German Foreign Policy: Navigating a New Era 9781626373501

Citation preview

German Foreign Policy

German Foreign Policy Navigating a New Era

Scott Erb

b o u l d e r l o n d o n

Dedicated to my son, Ryan Alexei Erb, born April 3, 2003.

Published in the United States of America in 2003 by Lynne Rienner Publishers, Inc. 1800 30th Street, Boulder, Colorado 80301 www.rienner.com

and in the United Kingdom by Lynne Rienner Publishers, Inc. 3 Henrietta Street, Covent Garden, London WC2E 8LU

© 2003 by Lynne Rienner Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Erb, Scott, 1960– German foreign policy : navigating a new era / Scott Erb. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 1-58826-168-9 (alk. paper) 1. Germany—Foreign relations—1990– 2. National security—Germany. 3. Security, International. 4. Germany—Military policy. 5. Post-communism—Germany (East). 6. Germany—Foreign relations—Europe. 7. Europe—Foreign relations—Germany. I. Title. DD290.3.E73 2003 327.43—dc21

British Cataloguing in Publication Data A Cataloguing in Publication record for this book is available from the British Library.

Printed and bound in the United States of America

∞

The paper used in this publication meets the requirements of the American National Standard for Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials Z39.48-1992.

5

4

3

2

1

2003041367

Contents

Preface

vii

2 The Double Consensus: West German Foreign Policy, 1945–1980

19

4 Uniting Germany and Ending the Cold War, 1985–1990

77

1 The Puzzle of German Foreign Policy

3 Missiles and Protests: The Early 1980s

5 Uniting Europe: Germany and Integration, 1985–2002 6 Security and Conflict After the Cold War: From Iraq to Macedonia

7 Terrorism and German Foreign Policy at the Turn of the Century

8 Foreign Policy in an Era of Globalization: The German Model Bibliography Index About the Book

v

1

55

111

147

183

217

233 251 262

Preface

it has evolved since the end of the Cold War is like attempting to hit a moving target. No sooner do President Bush and German Chancellor Gerhard Schröder celebrate the “unlimited solidarity” offered by the Germans to the United States after the terrorist attacks of September 2001, then the two find their relations chilled by Bush’s anger at how Schröder allegedly used “anti-Americanism” in his re-election campaign in late 2002. No sooner does Chancellor Schröder lay his job on the line by making parliamentary approval of Bundeswehr participation in the fighting in Afghanistan the equivalent of a vote of confidence, then he wins re-election in part by making clear his adamant opposition to a preventative war in Iraq. Earlier in the decade, solemn German declarations that the involvement of the German military in any action in Yugoslavia was impossible due to historical concerns (the behavior of the German Wehrmacht during World War II in Yugoslavia) gave way to Germany’s participation in missions in Bosnia and Kosovo and finally a leadership role in Macedonia. The evidence of the last decade might be said to allow a variety of interpretations of German foreign policy, but no clear signal about what drives that policy or where it is going. Nevertheless, in this book I argue that German foreign policy is more stable and predictable than it seems—that it is guided consistently by principles of multilateralism, cooperative institution building, the peaceful resolution of conflicts, and respect for human rights. I also put forth a proposition that is speculative, but potentially more important: German policy may be a model of how states can deal successfully with the turbulence and complexity of a world defined by globalization and interdependence. TRYING TO DESCRIBE AND UNDERSTAND GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY AS

vii

viii

PREFACE

Chapter 1 of the book sets up the framework for the analysis, considering the puzzle of post–Cold War German foreign policy and how scholars currently understand and explain it. I argue that Germany can be considered a state with a post-sovereign foreign policy identity that is based on the acceptance of multilateralism and institution-building as primary policy goals. In Chapter 2, I offer an overview of the years 1945 through 1980. During this period, Germany developed a dual path of integrating into Western institutions (Westpolitik) and cooperating with the East (Ostpolitik). The best method of balancing these two policies and the norms they reflected was a logic defined by multilateralism and institutionalized cooperation. By 1980, these tactics had become embedded as norms of German foreign policy. Chapter 3 focuses on the years 1980–1985, and particularly on the missile-modernization crisis that brought down the government of Helmut Schmidt, the growing Franco-German cooperation, and the difficulties in the European Community. In Chapter 4, concentrating on German security policy and the road to unification from 1985 to 1990, I consider the debates on NATO, the Gorbachev phenomenon, and the remarkable events of 1989–1990 that led to the birth of the Berlin Republic. Chapter 5 examines German foreign policy in the context of the process of European integration from 1985 to 2002, covering such topics as the Single European Act, European Monetary Union, and the efforts to build a common foreign policy and achieve political union. Chapter 6 traces the postunification transformation of German policy on the use of the military, and Chapter 7 focuses on current and future policy, including a discussion of the war against terrorism, the war in Afghanistan, and the debate over war with Iraq. In Chapter 8, I draw conclusions about the nature of German foreign policy identity, offer policy predictions, and reflect on Germany as a model for effective foreign policy in an era of globalization. *

*

*

Research for this book was done during a number of trips to Germany from 1998 to 2002. I am especially thankful for the help of Thomas Nielebock and his colleagues at the University of Tübingen Institute of Political Science, and to my friend Völker Börderling from Neuss who helped supply me with documents and materials when I was on my side

PREFACE

ix

of the Atlantic. Much of the information gathered for the historical sections came from research done in 1991–1992, when I lived in Bonn thanks to the assistance of the German Academic Exchange Service (DAAD). At that time Regine Mehl at the Bonn Arbeitsstelle Friedensforschung and Wolfgang Wipperman of the Freie Universtät Berlin were also generous in providing information, helping with contacts, and explaining the internal workings of German politics.

One The Puzzle of German Foreign Policy

of a unique art exhibition. The artists Christo and Jeanne Claude wrapped the German Reichstag with over 100,000 square meters of silver colored polypropylene and 15,000 meters of blue rope. Over five million people visited the site, observing how the shimmering surface shifted from grey in cloudy weather to blue in sunlight, even becoming a yellowish orange in the evening as the sunset and spotlights shined off the building. The hundred-year-old Reichstag, the center of parliamentary activity before World War I, during the tumultuous Weimar Republic, and on into the Third Reich, represents the paradoxical nature of German history. Philipp Scheidemann proclaimed the first German Republic from its balcony on November 9, 1918; Hitler became chancellor there in 1933; and a suspicious fire at the building shortly thereafter was the excuse used by Hitler to centralize all power to his office. After World War II the Soviets hoisted their hammer and sickle flag atop the Reichstag to symbolize the defeat of Nazi Germany, and since then it had stood, stripped of its past glory, on the banks of the Spree River, next to both the Berlin Wall and the Brandenburg Gate. Although Christo had the idea as far back as 1971, the wrapping came to symbolize the dawning of the new Berlin Republic, as the capital and the parliament were planning to move from Bonn to Berlin. Foreign papers marveled at the ability of the stoic Germans to allow their prestigious future house of parliament to be wrapped up like a postmodern Christmas gift, noting that the new Germany at least had a healthy sense of humor and fun. A carnival atmosphere prevailed as tourists gathered outside the building by the thousands, took pictures, FOR TWO WEEKS, STARTING ON JUNE 25, 1995, BERLIN WAS THE SCENE

1

2

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

and even were able to come right up to the building and feel the sturdy material that looked so delicate from a distance. Out was stuffy Prussian correctness; in was an entertaining irreverence. What did this symbolize for Germany? What would happen when the wrapping came off? For the Reichstag building itself, it meant major renovation as parliament prepared to move into its new seat. For Germany, it meant the renovation of a political system, as unification of East and West Germany turned the Bonn Republic into the Berlin Republic. In 1999, parliament’s move to Berlin meant the beginning of a new era in German politics. But the specter of German history is never out of view, as both the Germans and their allies wonder whether the new Germany will remain securely anchored in the West or rekindle old nationalist ambitions. In this book I offer an analysis of German foreign policy development since the end of World War II, emphasizing the period from 1980 to 2002. My goal is to chart how, over time, the tactical choices Germans made to deal with their difficult post–World War II situation slowly developed into a stable set of foreign policy norms. They learned that, lacking complete sovereignty and the ability to pursue their national interests aggressively, their best strategy was to form cooperative institutional arrangements within which they could earn the trust of allies and use “soft power” to pursue interests without appearing aggressive. They realized that by integrating into the West and stressing common values, they could achieve respect and policy success. This understanding combined with the lessons learned of history to create a political culture that stressed Western values, human rights, and cooperation over pursuit of national interest. The reasons it has survived as a part of German identity beyond unification and into the new century are that it has become a widely shared set of norms in German political culture and that it has worked. German foreign policy makers have been successful in handling difficulties and achieving results because of the kind of foreign policy they have undertaken. In this chapter I begin by asking what is meant by “the German Way,” a campaign slogan used by Chancellor Gerhard Schröder in the 2002 elections, and consider how scholars on both sides of the Atlantic understand and explain German foreign policy. Diverse sets of expectations exist, ranging from realist predictions of a Germany resurgent, to liberal views that Germans will continue their emphasis on cooperative institutions. I argue that in the last half century Germans have culturally adopted a post-sovereign foreign policy identity that provides guidance on how to analyze German

THE PUZZLE OF GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

3

policy and what to expect in the future. I conclude this chapter by defining what that identity means and how it could be a foreign policy model other states should take seriously. What Is “The German Way”?

German foreign policy made the headlines in the United States in late 2002. Chancellor Schröder of the Social Democratic Party (SPD) fought to victory in a hotly contested election by making his opposition to U.S. plans to launch a preventative war against Iraq the centerpiece of his campaign. This stand helped him erase a deficit in the polls, but it irked Washington. President George W. Bush felt personally insulted when Schröder’s justice minister, Herta Däubler-Gmelin, charged Bush with creating an international crisis to deflect from economic problems at home, noting this was something that Adolf Hitler had done as well. The idea that a German would compare the U.S. president to Hitler seemed unbelievable, and though Däubler-Gmelin would lose her job and even be seen as having cost the SPD votes in the election, the United States reacted by giving German diplomats the cold shoulder. Bush even refused to make the perfunctory congratulatory call after Schröder won a narrow victory in the election.1 That Schröder’s campaign slogan, “the German Way,” sounded much like it was promoting a Sonderweg (special path) or Alleingang (going it alone), something Germans had been avoiding for over fifty years, seemed to point to a changed and more aggressive Germany. Had the Cold War era merely been a break in German policy, a short period of inactivity forced by German division and the loss of World War II? Was Germany moving back into a position of using power politics and pursuing its interests in Europe with confidence and a desire for power? I believe such fears about a new and aggressive Germany are misplaced and that the German Way continues to be shaped by the norms of their Cold War era policies: multilateralism, cooperative institutionbuilding, skepticism of using military power to achieve political ends, and an emphasis on human rights and international law. However, these policy norms do not themselves prescribe specific policy behavior, and in different contexts they can be expressed in a variety of ways. The German Way has been to break from a realpolitik conception of foreign policy as a pursuit of national interest based on power, and to embrace instead ideals built on multilateral cooperation and institution-building.

4

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

This, I argue, represents a redefinition of sovereignty and gives Germany a distinct post-sovereign foreign policy identity. A quote from autumn 1991, when Germans were trying to cope with criticism for not being more active in the Gulf War and for being too assertive on Croatia, sums up the problem postunification Germany has had to deal with: “Bonn’s foreign policy appears hectic, uncertain and short-breathed . . . clearly the trusted recipe from the era of the cold war isn’t good any more. The supposed security and predictability of the old East-West conflict is gone. A self-critical member of the Genscher team of experts recognizes that it’s no longer enough to swim along in chorus with NATO and hide behind American leadership: ‘Until now we haven’t had to do any real foreign policy.’”2 Since unification, there has been a change in German foreign policy. From a Cold War pacifism in which all parties agreed that the German military should only be used for defense of the homeland or NATO alliance, Germans have emerged as front line troops in military action outside NATO territory, in Kosovo, Macedonia, and Afghanistan.3 The former anti-NATO peace movement party, the Greens, went along with these changes, supporting a NATO war in Kosovo and participation in the U.S. war in Afghanistan. Have the Germans abandoned their previous foreign policy principles in order to play a more active world role, or were these changes an attempt to adapt German policy to a new environment? Throughout the 1990s diverse opinions have been expressed as to where German foreign policy may be headed. Realist predictions tend to come primarily from U.S. scholars, while German and European scholars prefer either liberal-institutionalist approaches or other methods of delineating foreign policy roles. So far, realism has not proven a good predictor of German policy. For realists, the driving force in international relations is human nature. People are self-interested and, as history shows, prone to violence.4 The context in which this nature is expressed is an anarchical state system. With no central international authority to enforce law, states are required to defend and protect themselves, giving them an objective national interest: power. John Mearsheimer led the realist critique of the post–Cold War era, predicting a return to pre–World War II style power politics in Europe, including a resurgent Germany.5 Others look to history and the former balance-of-power relations and predict a return to a system much like that before World War I, with Germany seeking influence between East and West.6 Kenneth Waltz promotes a structural realist or “neorealist” approach that accepts realist assumptions and argues that

THE PUZZLE OF GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

5

capacity and position in the international system (structure) determine policy and interests. Germany’s new position in the system, freed from postwar constraints and more powerful than before, would cause one to expect a more assertive, self-interested Germany.7 For realists and neorealists, the nature of international relations means that in time new great powers will rise, nationalist antagonisms are likely, and that the post–Cold War era will be difficult in Europe.8 In the late 1990s, prior to the Kosovo conflict, Rainer Baumann, Volker Rittberger, and Wolfgang Wagner provided a detailed analysis of how realists and neorealists expect a more assertive foreign policy.9 They concluded that most of these predictions were off base, that Germany had not taken the kind of path realists anticipated. This does not mean that realists are wrong, at least not yet. It could be that the process of changing foreign policy takes a while, and it is certainly possible to interpret Germany’s recent military efforts or its break with the United States on the Iraq question as signs that it is slowly emerging from its shell. Furthermore, Germany’s multilateral path was not a rejection of national interest. Sven Papcke argues that the consensus of multilateralism with a Western orientation was actually based on German national interest, the best way to achieve the goals of improved security and welfare. In that sense, German self-interest was hidden under the protection of the West during the Cold War. Now that the Cold War is over, new interests stand out: concern about Russia and Eastern Europe, protecting the German economy from the challenge of globalization, and building a strong European Union.10 Will Germany best be able to achieve these by becoming more assertive, or will it remain committed to a cooperative, multilateral approach? By far the most accurate predictions come not from realists but from those who espouse a liberal or liberal-institutionalist view of international relations. These observers cite interdependence and the building of regimes and international institutions as significant aspects of the international system. They believe that German interests will continue to best be served through multilateralism and cooperative institutionbuilding. Robert Keohane and Joseph Nye posit that complex interdependence is a condition of international politics, as it makes it more difficult for states to act effectively on their own. They claim interdependence is an alternative to realism because military power is less important than economic relations for most states, and because the realist dichotomy of high and low politics is obsolete. 11 Among other things, interdependence means that nonstate actors are becoming more

6

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

powerful at the expense of nation-states. As a result, the international system is becoming confused; corporations, international organizations, and other nonstate actors are populating the world of international politics, making realist, state-centric analyses of limited value. According to Keohane and Nye, states benefit from giving up “bits” of sovereignty to nonstate actors.12 This leads to the building of institutions to mediate and promote cooperation.13 Cooperation and institutional structures are explained through the existence of norms and international agreements. Institutions are both “sticky” and expansive, meaning that they are likely to foster continued cooperation. This kind of liberal-institutionalist approach led to predictions that Germany would maintain its cooperative, institutional behavior and not assert itself in the manner the realists expected.14 Jeffrey Anderson and John B. Goodman, for example, argue that Western institutions have given Germany a different identity, a postmodern notion of sovereignty and a Europeanized way of defining interests.15 Klaus Goetz argues that German and European interests have merged as institutions have fused Germany to Europe in a way that makes separating German concerns from those of the rest of Europe impossible.16 Michael Staack directly presents the issue of national interest as an identity question. In pursuing its interests, will Germany endeavor to be a superpower or continue to be a trade state? Staack concludes that, even after unification, the basic premises of German foreign policy—multilateralism and cooperative diplomacy—still work best. 17 Similar to liberal-institutionalist approaches is Hans Maull’s idea of Germany as a Zivilmacht or a “civilian power.” 18 For Maull, a civilian power is one that tries to bring respect for human rights, international institutions, and peaceful conflict resolution to the international system. Germany’s role is to promote that sort of systemic development, with an emphasis on cooperation and institution-building. Maull, writing after the Kosovo conflict, argues that even German participation in a NATO-sponsored use of force without a U.N. Security Council mandate represents an evolution of Germany’s policy, maintaining its status as a civilian power while adapting policy to a new environment.19 These predictions show a commonality between both realism and liberal-institutionalist theory. Adherents to each believe states are pursuing self-interest, they just disagree on how states best do that. The realist looks to history and the primacy of the state and sovereignty; the liberal looks at interdependence and an institutional environment that alters the way the game is played. Nye himself notes this similarity: “A

THE PUZZLE OF GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

7

careful reading of Power and Interdependence indicates, however, that the transnational relations and interdependence paradigm does not reject realism. Instead, the concern of many of those working within it was with the conditions under which assumptions of realism were sufficient or needed to be supplemented by a more complex model of change.”20 The problem is that in jumping from either theory to a prediction about state foreign policy is problematic because it begs the question as to how the state itself understands and defines its interests. Other analysts see Germany as playing some kind of regional role as a “middle power,” a point of view that posits a number of possible futures for German policy. Adrian Hyde-Price, for instance, presents a number of competing “grand strategies” for German diplomacy, including a Carolingian Europe built on the Franco-German core, a “wider West” through enlarging NATO and the EU, a Mitteleuropa (Central Europe) strategy of unilaterally pursuing German interests in Central Europe, an attempt to become a world power, or a focus on GermanRussian relations. Currently, the “wider West” option appears to be the one preferred by most policy schools in Germany.21 Hyde-Price cites Gunther Hellmann as saying that five schools of academics, including pragmatic multilateralists, Europeanists, Euroskeptics, internationalists, and normalization/nationalists share the “wider West” view.22 Other scholars note that there are various roles Germany might play, such as a trading state (Handelstaat), a state oriented on power politics (Machtstaat), or the kind of civilian power Maull suggests.23 Elizabeth Pond argues that Germany has a niche as a regional power. The German question is still valid, as Germany is too small to dominate but too large to be led, only now German policymakers have found a role to play as a regional power in Central Europe.24 With Germany’s capital moved from the western city of Bonn on the banks of the Rhein to Berlin, just a half hour from the Polish border, German policy is likely to shift geographic emphasis back to Central Europe.25 Christian Hacke takes a somewhat different approach, describing German interests as a conglomeration of these possibilities. Germany has an interest in being a civilian power working to expand international cooperation and human rights, and it has an interest in being a trading power with policies designed to increase economic growth and well-being. It also has interests in European integration, in the promotion of the transatlantic alliance and pan-European cooperation, and in mediating between the East and West as a regional power.26 Through these and other analyses of German policy, a number of

8

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

factors are constant. First, those who expect a realist or resurgent Germany are for the most part non-Germans or those whose specialty is not specifically German politics or policy. Germans themselves speculate on the possibilities of power politics but tend to emphasize stability and cooperation as the most likely future. Second, German policy debates are intricately bound up with history and geography. Will Germany lean to the East or West, or will it became a Central European power? What are the lessons from history and how has Germany learned them? How will the need for a stable Russia impact Germany’s approach to European integration? Third, economic interests and domestic conditions are vital for understanding German foreign policy. European integration, Germany as a Handelstaat, and the interests Germany has in the East and Russia drive foreign policy. Some analysts even argue that, at least in terms of economic and trade relations, domestic interests and how they play themselves out within domestic institutions create the basis of foreign policy, an approach labeled “utilitarian liberalism.”27 Peter Katzenstein, by contrast, argues that interests cannot be separated from cultural norms. With both international and societal norms consistent, there is not likely to be a major change in German foreign policy.28 The thesis of this book is straightforward: Germany’s multilateral cooperative approach to foreign policy is likely to persist both because it rests on culturally shared values and because it works. German policy was adapting to the realities of the twenty-first century as early as the middle of the twentieth century. By fate of history, Germany has moved toward becoming a post-sovereign state, even as its leaders have struggled to regain sovereignty and its academics have debated issues of normalcy and nationalism. Germany underwent a complete transformation in how it confronts the world after the devastating defeat in World War II, which delegitimized its traditional beliefs about German identity and Germany’s role in the world. This new policy perspective allowed Germans to handle conditions of interdependence, uncertainty, and turbulence. These are conditions that now confront the entire international system, as we enter an era of systemic change in which the very foundations of international relations and world politics are called into question. Systemic change is often very difficult, as states cling to old conceptions of the world even as reality is being transformed by events beyond their control. This makes periods of systemic transition dangerous, especially when the very fundamentals of the system, such as sovereignty and national security, are at stake. Germany reflects a model of

THE PUZZLE OF GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

9

a foreign policy well suited to handle the realities of the emerging international system as it leaves the world of neorealist sovereign independent states and enters a world of semisovereign interdependent states coexisting with international, supranational, and powerful nongovernmental organizations. As Germany straddles the worlds of sovereignty and post-sovereignty, either it will act as an example that can help move other states toward the kind of transition it has undergone, or the logic of the system could lure Germany away from its successful postwar policy perspective. Germany’s Post-sovereign Foreign Policy Identity

A post-sovereign identity means that Germany maintains legal sovereignty but engages in policies that reflect the interdependent nature of both the international system and German national interests. It is an identity rather than merely a strategy because it encompasses the external form of German policy and the internal foreign policy norms and self-understandings within Germany. This concept of identity is similar to that used by Peter Katzenstein, who sees Germany as a semisovereign state inside a European Union defined by associated sovereignty.29 Katzenstein points out that Germans shun power politics and the balancing of power (Schaukelpolitik) in order to focus on political responsibility, even to the point that “power” is virtually eliminated from the political vocabulary.30 This is also similar to Maull’s characterization of Germany as a Zivilmacht, or Anderson and Goodman’s conception of Germany as having a postmodern form of sovereignty. The reason I choose “post-sovereign foreign policy identity” over the other possible labels is I want to focus less on German sovereignty being different from that of other states, and more on how Germans express their conception of sovereignty and its purpose in their foreign policy. In some ways my term is a blend of the semisovereignty and associated sovereignty discussed by Katzenstein, and it also has much in common with Maull’s idea of Germany as a Zivilmacht. By concentrating on postsovereignty as a foreign policy identity it is possible to conceive of this kind of identity, in part or in whole, being adopted by a variety of states and reflecting particular norms and understandings of foreign policy. Primary among them is an emphasis on multilateralism as a policy logic. Multilateralism is more than a method to achieve national goals, it

10

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

is a value in itself. Policies that are not multilateral are suspect; breaking from international norms or organizations is a rare act, and one that requires considerable justification. Simon Bulmer has called German policy “reflexive multilateralism,” as it is understood in Germany that purely national responses to problems are inappropriate and ineffective.31 Jeffrey Anderson has used the term “exaggerated multilateralism” to describe German policy on European integration.32 Many analysts and scholars evoke multilateralism in describing German foreign policy, but whether on the issue of early recognition for Croatia and Slovenia in 1991 or lack of support for a U.S.-led war against Iraq in late 2002, it is clear that Germany is willing to act against the consensus at times. Multilateralism is a general norm or goal of policy, not a universal prescription. An important part of defining the nature of Germany’s post-sovereign identity would be to understand the manner in which multilateralism is expressed in policy. When is Germany willing to break with a consensus and use its influence and power to persuade others to support its position? When can other norms or interests become more important than the principle of multilateralism? Multilateralism is the policy logic of a post-sovereign state, but there are limits to how and when this logic can operate, especially in a world of states that still define sovereignty in a realist sense. Those limits are related to how Germans define their interests and foreign policy objectives. Post-sovereignty suggests a particular way of understanding and identifying German national interests. Interests are defined not in a myopic, self-interested manner, but by seeing German interests connected to and interacting with the interests and goals of other states, which requires cooperative institutions to achieve results compatible with the interests of a group of states. Such a concept of national identity is akin to what Alexander Wendt describes as a “Kantian” identity, where other states are not primarily rivals but “friends.”33 As with multilateralism, Kantian identity cannot be seen as an absolute for all policies. Germany may perceive its interests in a collective context, but in some cases, particularly on issues of trade and finance, German pursuit of national interest may appear similar to that of any other state, including those still focused on traditional understandings of foreign policy. German policy shows a consistent set of attributes based on multilateralism and cooperative institution-building, but in certain cases Germans are willing to risk breaking with consensus and fight for their interests. A post-sovereign state is not an altruistic state, but it recognizes the

THE PUZZLE OF GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

11

interdependent nature of its interests and has a preference for cooperation over conflict. Finally, adopting multilateralism as a policy logic, and interdependency as a way to define and understand interests, creates an incentive to support international law and organization. For Germany, perhaps because of the past, this support is infused with a strong commitment to human rights and a desire for a moral and ethical foreign policy.34 This inherently puts limits on multilateralism or even cooperative institutionbuilding. Multilateral efforts that work against international law or support militarist approaches to foreign policy are much less likely to be embraced, as the goal of multilateralism is contradicted by the policy form that multilateral effort might take. Beyond that, if multilateral cooperation is causing a neglect of international law or human rights, post-sovereign norms could cause Germany to break from the multilateral consensus to protest that neglect. Multilateralism is not an end, but a means to an end. It matters which multilateralism is pursued—to what end and to what purpose. This creates difficulties for Germany, especially in dealing with a nation like the United States, which still emphasizes traditional thinking about self-interest and the usefulness of power politics to pursue goals. The Cold War subdued these contradictions, but in the post–Cold War world they cannot be avoided. A post-sovereign identity is a radical departure from the traditional realist emphasis on sovereignty, but it is not a complete break. In a world of sovereign states, expectations and diplomacy are built on traditional state defense of national interests, and German politicians have to deal with states that are more realist in their approach to politics. This could cause German policymakers to adapt to the dominant logic of the system and alter their norms to fit those of other major actors in the international system, a process Wendt calls “supervenience.”35 One reason this type of adaptation might not take place is that through globalization the international system is changing in a way that may make a post-sovereign identity more effective than a traditional approach to global politics. Post-sovereign Identity and Globalization

Globalization is a term used to cover a myriad of phenomena in world affairs. It is, however, only the most recent example of how technological and intellectual developments force politics to adapt and change.

12

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

Globalization can be defined as increased complex interdependence in the international system, accompanied by turbulence associated with cultural, economic, and political interactions among states of diverse social, political, and economic conditions. It is driven primarily by changes in information, communication, and transportation technology, alongside international norms welcoming trade and cross-border economic activity. Globalization weakens the ability of a state to act effectively on its own, as problems cross borders and states become increasingly interdependent. This creates conditions for states that are similar in effect to the kinds of limits Germans had placed on their sovereignty after World War II. Accordingly, the post-sovereign foreign policy identity developed in Germany in the decades since the war, if effective, could be a model to help states see how to overcome the dilemmas posed by globalization. The impact of globalization can be seen in the recent increase in production and prosperity, as well as in threats of terrorism and mass destruction. Trade has increased dramatically, linking world economies. In 1950 trade accounted for only 8 percent of GDP worldwide, but by 1998 the amount had risen to 26.4 percent.36 Foreign direct investment has been skyrocketing, as even finished goods have no clear national identity—as former U.S. labor secretary Robert Reich noted, it is becoming impossible to tell “who is us.”37 Multinational corporations and other transnational actors have proliferated, often finding themselves at cross purposes with state policies.38 This poses a threat to state sovereignty, as few states are disconnected from the world economy. In a sense, it is as if all states are slowly beginning to experience the kind of dependence on the international environment that Peter Katzenstein in 1985 attributed primarily to small states.39 Capital flows more quickly, labor is mobile, and economic regimes are decentralized, outside the control of nation-states.40 All these factors limit the ability of the state to act unilaterally to achieve its economic objectives and force states to recognize that national interest is often connected to the interests of other states in the system of trade. The world is undergoing a technological and ideational revolution that could very well alter the essential nature of global politics.41 The events of September 11, 2001, demonstrate that globalization creates vulnerabilities even for the United States, which, despite being the world’s preeminent superpower, was unable to identify and stop a major terror strike. The reaction of the American people and government to the attacks reflected insecurity and uncertainty about how to

THE PUZZLE OF GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

13

defend national interests in a world of weapons proliferation and terror threats. Terrorists operate in a manner that takes advantage of globalization, using anonymous e-mails to send coded messages, communicating by cell phone and text messaging, and operating across borders with various bank accounts and financial arrangements. One nation acting alone cannot handle these threats; it requires extensive cooperation. Germany’s post-sovereign foreign policy identity could be a model for how states can deal with the issues and crises likely to emerge in coming years. Germany’s foreign policy principles are especially relevant in conditions of globalization, where interdependence and turbulence bring traditional notions of sovereignty into question. Understanding German Foreign Policy Identity

It is one thing to note that Germany prefers to pursue multilateral policies, often sacrificing short-term interests for the long-term goal of developing stable cooperative institutions, but it is quite another to figure out what this means and under what conditions Germany might veer from this path. Models are useful, but politicians do not follow models, they simply act and react in rapidly changing circumstances. Attempts to predict foreign policy often fail because as conditions and leaders change, their ways of doing things vary. The most successful approaches are broad theories that allow the analyst to interpret what happens based on the expectations and assumptions of her or his theory. However, in most cases diverse theories can explain events equally well, given the multiple ways reality and human behavior can be interpreted. Explaining and predicting foreign policy is more art than science. Nonetheless, for analysts the goal is to be as objective as possible and to find ways to analyze data in a manner that provides a coherent and persuasive explanation of behavior, even if it is not possible to design tests to determine which theory is best. Recognizing that limitation, the aim in this book is not to attempt a scientific analysis that promotes a particular model or theory of foreign policy, but rather to undertake a constructivist analysis of the historical development of postwar German policy. This requires consideration of policy choices alongside domestic debates about policy options. Although mass public opinion will be alluded to, the most important debates are those among the educated political elites, focused on academics, political parties, and

14

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

public debates. The goal is to look at the construction of the German post-sovereign foreign policy identity in order to determine how much of it is based on tactical concerns of historical necessity (which would suggest it is a weak identity that could be altered quickly in the new post–Cold War world), and how much is based on a deeper set of shared principles and norms that shape how Germans understand their interests and calculate what kind of action is best. The second alternative could show a stronger post-sovereign identity. For instance, a deeply held norm on human rights and distrust of military power would lead a state to take civilian suffering and the human cost of destruction into account when determining if military action is a good policy. A state focused on power politics and national interest might dismiss those costs through an ends-justifies-the-means calculus, with the “ends” being related specifically to national interest. Understanding the positions and debates within and between political parties is especially critical, as parties are the nexus between the public and elites. They are the vehicle that individual politicians use to achieve power, and in Germany nearly all ministers and major government officials have party ties. This means party positions over time are an important indicator of the context and basic “battle lines” within German politics. Party leaders not only translate their positions into statements that can be understood and accepted by the public, but they also rely on the public for electoral support. One analyst claims that the German parties enjoy dominance in the German system based on their ability to build public opinion.42 The domestic political debates also provide clues as to the various possibilities that exist for future policy. Ann Swidler claims that a culture provides participants with a “tool kit” of resources that allows them to build strategies of action. Since any culture is complex, it offers people the means to design contradictory strategies from the same cultural resources. Participants take from their knowledge of their culture the bits and pieces they need to construct a particular course of action.43 Elites survey the range of transnational norms and domestic goals, seeking consistency as they try to satisfy both as much as possible. In West Germany, leadership by elites pursuing national interest in the constraints of the early postwar period led to an embrace of multilateralism and cooperative institutions as the best strategy to achieve their goals. Over time the success of this approach, and its ability to handle a number of Cold War and then post–Cold War dilemmas, has transformed it from a strategy of foreign policy to a set of resilient foreign policy

THE PUZZLE OF GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

15

ideals. Elites, however, act within a certain range of possibilities, even if they have the power over time to expand that range. This study unfolds as a story of how Germans have defined their interests and policy rationales by working through various foreign policy dilemmas. Since the early 1980s norms have been resilient, built on a double consensus of integrating with the West while trying to build ties to the East. Germans early on discovered that a multilateral policy logic focused on building cooperative institutions was the best way to pursue potentially conflicting goals while satisfying diverse domestic audiences. However, what this means in practice is shifting and points to assertive policies in some circumstances, particularly in issues involving military action, European integration, and the building of international institutions. Through each incident, and even between issues as varied as the economics of European monetary union and German policy in the Balkans, the fundamental interests and logic of German foreign policy remain consistent, though disputes between parties and domestic debates demonstrate internal disagreements that could alter the norms of German policy. This consistency is not self-evident even to seasoned observers of German policy. Those watching German military policy undergo a dramatic change from 1989 to 2002 are tempted to see Germany as a “different Republic,” one with an essentially different approach to military issues.44 As Adrian Hyde-Price notes: “Gone is the Bescheidenheit and Zurückhaltung (modesty and reserve) of the Bonn Republic. Gone too is the unwillingness to talk about ‘national interests’ and preference for a ‘European’ rather than a ‘national’ identity. In its place is the selfconfidence of the ‘sixty-eighter’ generation, and a recognition of Germany’s responsibility as a ‘large power’ (the current euphemism for ‘great power’).” 45 He goes on to note that this does not mean that Germany has a spirit of assertiveness or a “yearning for power projection,” but clearly the changes since unification are evident. My argument is not that such observations are wrong, but that if one looks at the historical construction of German foreign policy norms and understandings, a stable post-sovereign identity persists, defining the essential components of German foreign policy values. The changes in policy are better understood as a reaction of policy form to a new environment in order to preserve adherence to the underlying values of German policy. After 1989 it became impossible for Germany simply to continue its policies; the world and Germany had changed too much. Just as elite actors in the domestic system construct strategies of

16

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

action in existing circumstances, so do states (or governments of states) acting in the international system. German policy success and effective pursuit of post-sovereign policies could become a model for other states, especially if the traditional approach to foreign policy is found to be less effective in conditions defined by globalization. To understand the potential for such a model, it is important to analyze how this foreign policy identity came into being and to what extent it represents tactical concerns or deeply held policy norms and understandings. The lions’ share of this analysis focuses on German policy from 1980–2002, a period of transition in both the international system and German policy. However, it is important to first understand how postwar policy developed from the ashes of the Third Reich and evolved during the Cold War era. Notes

1. For more detail about this and the entire controversy involving the Iraq war, see Chapter 7. 2. “Aussenpolitik: Kleinkind mit Rücksack,” Der Spiegel, September 9, 1991, pp. 24–25. 3. The first German soldiers to Afghanistan left on January 8, 2002, almost two months after Bundestag approval of the German participation. 4. As Morgenthau notes: “Social forces are the product of human nature in action. Therefore, under similar conditions, they will manifest themselves in a similar manner” (Politics Among Nations, p. 18). 5. Mearsheimer, “Back to the Future,” and “Back to the Future Part III,” p. 222. 6. Examples include von Alten, Die Ganz Normale Anarchie, and a comparison of different possibilities can be found in Baring, Germany’s New Position in Europe. 7. Waltz, “The Emerging Structure of International Politics.” 8. For other examples, see Brzezinski, “Post-communist Nationalism”; Layne, “The Unipolar Illusion”; Mansfield and Snyder, “Democratization and the Danger of War”; and Snyder, “Averting Anarchy in the New Europe.” 9. Baumann, Rittberger, and Wagner, “Power and Power Politics.” 10. Papcke, “Zur Neuorientierung deutscher Außenpolitik.” 11. Keohane and Nye, Power and Interdependence, pp. 23–26. 12. Ibid., p. 9. 13. The process through which this is done is probably best explained by “regime theory.” For a basic definition of regimes, see Krasner, “Structural Causes and Regime Consequences,” pp. 1–2. For regime theory used to describe the persistence of free trade and liberalism despite national interest, see Ruggie, “International Regimes, Transactions, and Change,” p. 195. For

THE PUZZLE OF GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

17

more general information on regime theory, see Rittberger, Regime Theory and International Relations. 14. Keohane, Nye, and Hoffmann, After the Cold War. 15. Anderson and Goodman, “Mars or Minerva?” pp. 55–60. 16. Goetz, “Integration Policy in a Europeanized State.” 17. Staack, “Großmacht oder Handelsstaat,” p. 15. 18. Maull, “Germany and Japan.” See also Maull, “Zivilmacht Deutschland,” and Maull and Kirste, “Zivilmacht und Rollentheorie.” 19. Maull, “German Foreign Policy, Post-Kosovo.” 20. Nye, quoted in Kegley and Wittkopf, World Politics, p. 26. 21. Hyde-Price, Germany and European Order, pp. 128–130. 22. Ibid., p. 129. 23. For example, Schrade, “Machtstaat, Handelstaat oder Zivilstaat.” 24. Pond, “Germany Finds Its Niche as a Regional Power.” 25. Schwarz, Die Zentralmacht Europas. 26. Hacke, Die Aussenpolitik der Bundesrepublik Deutschland, see especially pp. 520–540. 27. Freund, “German Foreign Trade Policy Within the EU.” See also Freund and Rittberger, “Utilitarian-Liberal Foreign Policy Theory,” pp. 68–70. 28. Katzenstein, “United Germany in an Integrating Europe.” 29. Ibid., p. 4. 30. Ibid., pp. 2 and 9. 31. Bulmer, “Shaping the Rules?” pp. 66–67. 32. Anderson, “Hard Interests, Soft Power, and Germany’s Changing Role in Europe,” p. 85. 33. Wendt compares what he sees as the dominant “logic of anarchy” in the international system, a Lockean logic (states as competitive rivals), with the possibility of both a Hobbesian logic of anarchy (a war of all against all) and a Kantian logic (states as friends or partners, sharing common goals and identifying with each other). Although the world is now primarily populated by states whose governments have internalized the norms of a Lockean system, Germany’s post-sovereign identity reflects norms and understandings that would suggest a Kantian logic. For more on Wendt’s theory, see Wendt, Social Theory of International Politics, especially pp. 246–313. 34. For more on Germany’s rejection of militarism, see Berger, Cultures of Anti-Militarism. Berger compares Germany and Japan after World War II with an emphasis on understanding the role of antimilitarism in the political culture of each state. 35. Wendt argues that state governments adapt to the dominant logic of the international system, as the system “supervenes” on states and in essence shapes how decisionmakers understand the system and their place in it (Social Theory of International Politics, pp. 155–156). 36. “The Battle in Seattle,” The Economist, November 27, 1999, pp. 21–22. 37. Reich, “Who Is Us.” 38. Carnoy, “Multinationals in a Changing World,” pp. 47–48. 39. Katzenstein, Small States in World Markets.

18

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

40. Greider, One World, Ready or Not. 41. One example of this comes from Peter Dombrowski and Richard Mansbach, who note that the decreasing role of territory and the reshuffling of elite identities from the territorial state to connection with transnational organizations make political space multidimensional and overlapping. This threatens to, if not destroy, at least significantly alter the fundamental nature of the sovereign state. Dombrowski and Mansbach, “From Sovereign States to Sovereign Markets.” 42. Mehl, Bundestagsparteien und Sicherheitspolitik in der achtziger Jahren, p. 1. 43. Swidler, “Culture in Action.” 44. Such is the contention of one of the most prominent of German pundits on foreign affairs, Theo Sommer, who argues precisely that the change in military policy means that the Berlin Republic is a “different Republic” than the old Bonn Republic (“Deutsche Außenpolitik: Unterwegs”). 45. Hyde-Price, Germany and European Order, p. 220.

Two The Double Consensus: West German Foreign Policy, 1945–1980

William Shirer notes that the German people did not want war in the late 1930s and greeted military news at the onset of hostilities almost with apathy, unlike the excitement at the start of World War I. Shirer expresses amazement at how gullible the Germans were and how easily they were misled. On the other hand, observing the wreckage after the war, he notes: “Still, it was difficult in this wasteland to remember that these wretched Germans I had watched scarcely five years before come to this chancellery to help the dictator concoct his inhuman plans, were heroes in this nightmarish land. Crowds in the Wilhelmstraße cheered them as they arrived and departed. The whole German nation followed them, not only obediently but with enthusiasm.”1 Shirer’s observations suggest that the public had to be ready to be misled. Even if people were hesitant to accept war, there had to be certain culturally shared beliefs and understandings about war and violence that the Nazis could use to get the nation to support a conflict that nearly destroyed Germany’s ability to exist as a nation-state. These beliefs—love for the fatherland, fear of Bolshevism, disgust for the Versailles treaty, desire for a German “place in the sun,” and distrust of non-Germans—could be used to build on traditional beliefs of war as being virtuous, honorable, and at times necessary. Nazism was built on consistencies in German political culture that rendered such a system possible; Hitler used rhetoric and propaganda to twist these cultural attributes into a fascist ideology that allowed for the construction of a brutal, war-making regime. By 1945 all of that had been destroyed. In the three and a half decades after the war, West Germans develIN THE NIGHTMARE YEARS 1930–1940, JOURNALIST/HISTORIAN

19

20

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

oped a foreign policy identity that allowed them to cope with the past and achieve stability and acceptance in the international system. Germany was not a “normal” state, due to its history, but wanted to become a state with equal rights by rejecting the kind of behavior that had led to two major wars in the first fifty years of the century. Germans would have to reject the kind of foreign policy thinking that had been dominant since the establishment of the German empire in 1871. They would have to forge a new identity. Germany did this through the development of a “double consensus,” involving relations with the West (Westpolitik) and the East (Ostpolitik). For the former, West Germany would integrate itself into western institutions and define itself as part of a western alliance, a process known as Westbindung or Einbindung. For the latter, the West Germans would cultivate better relations with East Germany and the Soviet Union in order to minimize tension and deal with the reality of German division. In this chapter I analyze the development of each “consensus,” noting how their maintenance pushed Germans to the tactical use of policies that would, in time, come to define their post-sovereign identity. Although this broad overview of thirty-five years is meant primarily to set up the closer analysis of the 1980–2002 period, the debates and dilemmas of the early post–World War II era offer hints at questions facing German policymakers to this day. Moreover, while support for each side of the double consensus was broad among mainstream political elites, it was not uniform, and sometimes only surface deep. At times it was a loose consensus rather than a deep policy agreement. Understanding the development of this double consensus is a necessary starting point for analyzing recent German foreign policy and understanding its post-sovereign values. After the War: Dealing with Defeat

Before even thinking about foreign policy and the future of the German state, Germans had to deal with defeat in World War II, as well as the crimes committed in the Nazi era. In an illuminating essay Sabine Behrenbeck argues that memorials and monuments go a long way in showing how a society comes to terms with the shock and pain caused by a war. After World War I, most German monuments were dedicated to “heroes,” and “the fallen,” with scenes depicting “honorable” soldiers. After World War II, most memorials echoed Christian themes

WEST GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY, 1945–1980

21

emphasizing peace and regard for the war’s victims. The heroes were not the soldiers this time, but those who had been persecuted or who had resisted.2 At the same time, she notes that despite the change, the learning after the war was gradual. Behrenbeck’s argument is insightful and highlights some of the contradictions in post–World War II Germany. While the war had a devastating impact on German society, requiring an almost complete retooling of the civic culture of the state, the Cold War and quick moves to make Germany a stable member of the Atlantic alliance forced Germans to accept some of the logic that had driven German foreign policy in the past. Fear of the East, the need to militarize, and the idea of “us vs. them” (democrats vs. communists this time) coexisted with the idea that war should no longer be a means of politics. The result is a dualism in German politics: War is officially and publicly condemned, while circumstances make preparation for war, and implicitly the act itself, a fact of life. In these conditions, it is clear that building a new foreign policy identity would not be easy. This dualism can be seen in the postwar reeducation efforts. At first some of the Allies thought Germany nearly a lost cause; a member of the British Control Commission was quoted as saying that long-term change in German behavior could only come from changing the biological component of its people through intermarriage and an “extreme mixing of blood.”3 Ultimately, it was reasoned that German behavior could best be changed by “going for the mind” instead of the body. Realpolitik, philosophical idealism, and the notion that the state legitimized the individual would be replaced by rule of law, pragmatism, and the placing of the individual above the state.4 German mentality was considered different from the British and U.S. way of thinking, and thus had to be altered; the Germans had gone beyond normal sacrifice for the state and gave up their moral and ethical values in their attempt to dominate Europe. Reeducation was less to promote pacifism or virtue than to get Germans to think like the British and Americans. This naturally limited the scope of reeducation, with the focus being negative: demilitarization and de-Nazification. 5 Neither the British nor the Americans had a particularly peaceful past. The British empire, as well as the U.S. conquest of North America and growing influence elsewhere in the world, suggested that force, war, and even conquest was often acceptable. In fact, the Cold War caused reeducation efforts to shift toward teaching Germans to become a loyal ally, rejecting the more pacifistic post–World War II tendencies in some parts of the German population.

22

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

The impact of the Cold War can be seen by looking at the performance of the Deutsche Friedensgesellschaft Bund der Kriegsgegner (German Peace Society for Opponents of War). The society grew quickly after the war to 10,000 members in 1948, but by 1951 membership had fallen to 2,900, as many peace organizations died out as the Cold War took hold.6 Within the military, former officers not specifically involved in war crimes were absolved of any war guilt by a proclamation from General Eisenhower, and officers with pacifist tendencies were often accused of having communist sympathies.7 Although foreign policy elites considered a war of aggression an unacceptable means of achieving policy goals, they rejected moral arguments against war per se. At the same time, the German public became antimilitarist and opposed to the creation of a new German army.8 Germany’s postwar goals of achieving sovereignty and equality in the international system required conforming to the system’s norms and principles, including militarism. Pacifistic trends in domestic norms were counteracted by outside pressures to militarize in order to join the international system and reap its benefits. However, the domestic norms were not sacrificed to the outside pressures; instead, German leaders had to chart a course whereby they could satisfy both sets of demands. Westpolitik

Directly after World War II it was not by any means a certainty that the new Germany would cooperate with the West. The British feared a new Reich in Germany that might cooperate with Russia. U.S. diplomat George Kennan believed that Russia had plans to take all of Germany.9 Initial plans proposed by Secretary of the Treasury Henry Morgenthau called for the deindustrialization of Germany in order to make it an agrarian state. The British believed their occupation would last about twenty years and expected to exercise complete control in their sector.10 Cold War realities and a growing understanding of the German situation led quickly to a realization that some kind of German self-government was necessary. As early as September 1946 U.S. secretary of state James Byrnes gave a speech in Stuttgart where he hinted at U.S. friendship and future German self-rule. U.S. general Lucius Clay argued as well for an early rethinking of Allied policies given the humanitarian disaster of early post–World War II Germany. 11 In 1947 President Truman proclaimed the Truman Doctrine, which promised protection

WEST GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY, 1945–1980

23

for free peoples resisting subjugation from armed minorities or outside pressure. At the same time, the United States prepared to offer Marshall Plan aid to assist in the rebuilding of Europe, which ultimately would include Germany. The United States was convinced that it should not repeat the mistakes that were made after World War I, and it took a very different approach to Germany and Europe.12 The year 1948 would be a watershed leading to the solidification of Europe into blocs of East and West. In February a coup in Czechoslovakia made clear the Soviet intention to maintain an iron grip over the states of Eastern Europe, closing the door on hopes for multiparty democratic states in the East. In March 1948 the Soviets withdrew from the Allied Control Council, which effectively ended real efforts at joint control of Germany. On June 7, 1948, currency reform was introduced to the allied sectors of divided Germany, deepening the gulf between them and the Soviet sector. The Soviets responded with a blockade designed to force the West to give up its presence in Berlin, located deep in the Soviet sector of Germany. In late June the Soviets started cutting rail lines, and, by early July, General Clay was ready for war as 2.5 million Berliners living in the western sectors had their supplies blocked.13 For eleven months an Allied air lift overcame the Berlin blockade and kept the city fed, ultimately leading Stalin to back down. But the damage was done; by now the blocs had hardened, and the Cold War and a divided Germany were virtually inevitable. In 1949, when the U.S., French, and British zones were united to form the Federal Republic of Germany, the Allies severely limited the political power of the new West German state. Normal rights of sovereignty—to raise an army, develop an independent foreign policy, and control internal affairs—were curtailed or nonexistent. It was under these circumstances that Konrad Adenauer led a Christian Democratic Union (CDU) controlled coalition into government in 1949. 14 For Adenauer’s government, the postwar years were a struggle to regain sovereignty and achieve equality in the international system. By proving Germany a stable and trustworthy ally, Adenauer hoped to persuade the United States to pressure other European states to remove most restraints imposed on Germany after the war. In order to do that, Germans would have to adapt to what was expected of them in the U.S.led system. Coming from the western part of Germany, Adenauer considered the cause of Germany’s past problems to have been insufficient integration into the Western way of life and a lack of democratic ideals. The Germans, he believed, had a “false sense of the state, power, and

24

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

the role of the individual.”15 Adenauer confided to British officials that he believed the biggest mistake in British history was at the Congress of Vienna, when the British gave Prussia land on the Rhein in order to counter France.16 As a Catholic, he had little regard for the protestant Junkers of Prussia and put reunification goals second to affirming a place in the international system for the new state. Adenauer prematurely offered German rearmament as a counter to Soviet aggression as early as 1949.17 By embracing the creation of a military so soon after the war he was not attempting to revert to German militarism; rather, no state could be sovereign and an equal member of the system without a military. Adenauer’s strategy was one of Westpolitik, which in practice meant Germany’s integration into the Western system of political thought and institutions. This was not a completely new effort; Gustav Stresemann attempted in the late 1920s to integrate Germany into Western institutions in order to pursue German interests.18 Was it necessary for Adenauer to pursue integration with the West with such tenacity? Perhaps. Wolfram Hanrieder considers Germany a penetrated state during the early postwar period, a country unable to operate its own domestic and foreign policies without influence from outside powers.19 The term “penetrated” may be too strong; there were other policy options. One alternative was offered by the Social Democratic Party of Germany (SPD), led by Kurt Schumacher, a gruff uncompromising idealist who felt that the defeat of Nazism vindicated the Social Democrats and left only the SPD fit to govern.20 The SPD met in Hannover on April 19, 1945, to plan a reemergence after the end of the Nazi regime, which by that time had all but collapsed. The goal of the Social Democrats was to reestablish the Reich, but this time in freedom and democracy, with self-determination for the German nation.21 To Schumacher, a Prussian from the East, who had suffered ten years in Nazi concentration camps, the Christian Democrats were directly related to parties that had accepted Nazism. Feeling no personal war guilt, Schumacher, who led the SPD until 1952, believed that a Germany led by Nazi-persecuted Social Democrats should not have to conform to the wishes of outside powers, capitalist powers at that. Schumacher’s alternative was no more pacifistic than Adenauer’s, and in fact more nationalistic. He wanted a neutral unified Germany with the ability to defend itself. Schumacher stirred controversy by calling Adenauer “the chancellor of the allies,” suggesting that the Christian Democratic leader was neglecting German interests.22 The SPD thus

WEST GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY, 1945–1980

25

stood opposed to Adenauer’s integration efforts, arguing that West Germany should pursue reunification before worrying about how to achieve other goals. 23 Even after Schumacher’s personal leadership ended, the SPD was hesitant about an integration into the West that would hamper efforts aimed at reunification and intensify the division of Europe.24 They argued that this would deepen Germany’s division and make the postwar settlement a permanent rather than temporary condition.25 Adenauer and Schumacher represented contending views on how to achieve German interests. Adenauer believed that Germans basically had a sick view of the state, and European unification with German participation would be a way to keep militarism in check while allowing Germany to play a productive role. Schumacher believed that war was caused by bourgeois capitalism and that a Social Democratic Germany would offer a model for a peaceful alternative.26 Adenauer’s strategy to develop German sovereignty and equality required an emphasis on cooperative institutions, where Germany would yield leadership to others while Germans would pursue their interests and goals quietly, behind the scenes. For Adenauer, institutionalism and multilateralism were not values of foreign policy, but tactics. Schumacher did not recognize the need to integrate with the West, nor did he think that was the best path toward German unification. He had no love for the Communists, whom he had once called “red painted fascists,” but believed that integration in the West would hamper the cause of unification and would ultimately hurt the ability of Germany to act with equality on the world stage.27 Adenauer reasoned that anything other than this Westpolitik would lead to mistrust and further limits on German action. Perhaps the only truly pacifistic internationalist vision of a post–World War II Germany came out of the “Christian Socialism” movement associated with Jakob Kaiser. Kaiser (who was from the eastern zone) called for Germany to be something of a bridge between East and West, performing a peaceful and constructive role.28 He envisioned Germany actively working to alter the European system peacefully, but in the Cold War climate these ideas were quickly rejected. Schumacher and the Social Democrats expected to be the logical choice to govern the new West German state, given they were the only party other than the Communists who had stood to the end against Hitler. His strident approach turned off voters looking for stability and irritated the Allies. He chaffed at British controls after the war, complaining “Wir sind kein Negervolk” (“we are not a Negro people”),

26

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

reflecting his view that the British were treating Germany as it were an African colony.29 The British military official Noel Annan, who was involved in the occupation, describes Schumacher: “He was the sort of man intellectuals understand: very fierce, very pure, unwilling to compromise with truth as he saw it, hating his enemies, none too appreciative of his friends. Yet at the same time he suffered tortures rather than renounce his faith.”30 Schumacher rejected the idea of complete Western integration and instead advocated the “magnet theory.” Mediated Western integration would allow Germany to be a magnet to draw the East to emulate Western success and ultimately lead to the rejection of communism in the East and German unification.31 In a close election fought by multiple parties, Adenauer came out on top and forged a coalition government. In so doing he managed to assure that the chancellor would have control of foreign policy. There was no foreign minister until 1955, when Heinrich von Bretano took that role, and this allowed Adenauer to shape early policy.32 Adenauer wasted no time in trying to develop a web of relationships that would enhance the legitimacy of the new West German state. The strategy had two major components. Adenauer realized that one of the major tasks facing Germany was to rebuild the economy and convince Germans with results that Western democracy could work. Domestically, this would be known as the “social market economy,” designed in large part by Christian Democrat and future chancellor Ludwig Erhard, reflecting a compromise between socialist ideals and laissez-faire capitalist principles. Internationally, Adenauer supported efforts to link the economies of Europe in order to create a shared set of interests and policies, building on initial integrative requirements of the Marshall Plan. This would not only hasten German growth but would also give Germany the ability to pursue economic interests under the cover of a multilateral institution. The pressing issue was to convince the other European states that the new West Germany was not a threat, and in fact could be a partner. Germany enthusiastically supported the Schuman plan, put forth in 1950 by French foreign minister Robert Schuman, to develop the European Coal and Steel Community (ECSC), which would create a single authority in charge of coal and steel production in order to, in Schuman’s words, “make it plain that any war between France and Germany becomes not merely unthinkable, but materially impossible.”33 After World War II, French leader Charles De Gaulle put Jean

WEST GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY, 1945–1980

27

Monnet in charge of economic planning, a choice that fit in well with Adenauer’s desire to integrate Germany into the Western system. Monnet had long been a proponent of building economic ties between states in order not only to avoid conflict but also to achieve the benefits of trade and commerce. Before World War II such ideas seemed utopian, especially when France was confronted by a nationalist Germany. Now, Adenauer’s Germany was an enthusiastic supporter of economic cooperation. The happy congruence of interests meant that France and other Europeans looked to integration to keep Germany in check while Germany saw integration as a way to establish the legitimacy of the new German state and become an actor in the postwar system. The ECSC comprised France, Germany, Belgium, the Netherlands, Luxembourg, and Italy, beginning the development of what would later become the European Union. Adenauer’s staunch support of the Schuman plan was critical to its success.34 In Germany though, Westpolitik was by no means a consensus, even after Schumacher’s death in 1952. Schumacher’s replacement, Erich Ollenhauer, did say early on that he did not deny the “necessity to defend liberty and democracy,” and in fact agreed that Germany was “indissolubly linked with the West.” The SPD’s opposition to Westpolitik focused on the lack of equality for the Federal Republic and the importance of unification.35 While Adenauer guided German entry into the main postwar institutions such as the Council of Europe; the Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO); the World Health Organization (WHO); the World Bank; the International Labor Organization (ILO); the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO); the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade (GATT); and the International Monetary Fund (IMF) by the end of 1952, the SPD feared this integration was undermining efforts at unification. In 1952 when the Soviet Union dangled potential unification in exchange for neutrality in front of Adenauer in a series of two notes, he rejected the offer, even as some other Western diplomats were intrigued.36 In the first note, dated March 10, Stalin called on the four powers and Germany to arrange a peace treaty to end the state of war, grant Germany sovereignty, and allow a unified Germany to have forces for self-defense as long as it remained neutral. On April 9, he sent a second note, saying that all-German elections could take place to determine the nature of the new government. For the SPD, the proposal was something that should be negotiated, and they argued that Adenauer

28

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

was ignoring German interests in order to please the West. Adenauer remained adamant that only through a general détente would unification be possible, and Germany was in no position to cut a deal with the Soviets so soon after the war.37 Another point of opposition concerned plans about what to do with the Saarland region, an area of Germany under French control after the war. Adenauer pushed for passage of an agreement to internationalize the Saarland, causing some in his own party to reject what would have been a sacrifice of part of German territory. Ultimately, the Saarlanders voted against Adenauer’s will in a plebiscite, and rejoined Germany. Nonetheless, the willingness of Adenauer to push for internationalization showed the French that Adenauer’s desire to integrate was sincere.38 The Korean War broke out at around the same time the ECSC was being put together, convincing policymakers in the United States that German rearmament was a necessity. This was not a new idea. In January 1948 some British officials had talked openly about a West German contribution to European defense.39 In August 1950 Winston Churchill, who the next year would again become prime minister, signaled potential British acceptance for such a move by suggesting German participation in a European brigade in Korea, and by September the United States was actively supporting German rearmament.40 The rest of Europe, however, was cool to the idea. Germany had been defeated twice within a span of just over thirty years; why let them off the mat so soon? French foreign minister Robert Schuman said bluntly, “Germany has no army and should not have. It has no arms and will not have any.” Schuman’s pronouncement expressed a political view in France, but due to the French inability to meet commitments to European land defense, many on the French general staff had a different view, considering German rearmament necessary.41 One idea was to integrate the German military into a European Defense Community (EDC) consisting of the member nations of the ECSC. This plan from French prime minister René Pleven received approval from all the governments involved. The EDC treaty was signed on May 27, 1952, making it appear that a European army was going to be born. French domestic politics undermined the proposal, however. The French Communist Party opposed any German rearmament; and French nationalists opposed the creation of the EDC, fearing that as France defended her empire, Germany would become the dominant force within the EDC and use that to potentially control Europe. In the weak Fourth Republic, Prime Minister Pierre Mendes-France ulti-

WEST GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY, 1945–1980

29

mately had to choose between pushing to create the EDC or pulling out of French Indochina. To try to do both would have brought down his government. SPD opposition also played a role in torpedoing the EDC, as the party went to the constitutional court to try to stop German participation, with Schumacher noting “whoever approves this treaty ceases to be a German.” It is possible that the delays caused by the SPD opposition gave the French opposition to the EDC time to muster enough support to defeat the treaty.42 The EDC was therefore dropped by the country who proposed it, finally being defeated in the French National Assembly in August 1954. This defeat opened the door to a different sort of German military integration, as a new member of the U.S.-led NATO alliance. The development of a postwar Western alliance began with the Brussels treaty of 1948, an agreement by Britain, France, Belgium, the Netherlands, and Luxembourg to plan a coordinated defense system, originally designed to counter a potential German as well as Soviet threat. This ultimately became the West European Union (WEU), which took institutional form in May 1955 to complement German rearmament. The WEU never really took root, however, as it was subsumed by the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO). In April 1949 NATO came into existence with thirteen members, including the United States, Canada, and Turkey alongside ten European states (not including Germany). When the EDC failed and it became clear that regardless of European concerns the United States was committed to German rearmament, attention shifted to NATO as the vehicle to assure that German armament would not lead to a renewed German threat in the region. Opposition in France and Britain to German armament withered as it became clear this was the price of U.S. support for the defense of Europe. As Reiner Pommerin noted, Eisenhower “impaled the allies on the horns of a dilemma.” They had either to accept an expensive and untenable military burden or to treat Germany as a political equal.43 Germany joined NATO by promising to eschew the production of ABC weapons (atomic, biological, or chemical) and most other offensive weapons systems except at the request of NATO. Germany also promised not to use its military to try to reunify the country.44 On November 12, 1955, just over ten years after the fall of Berlin, the young West German state rearmed, creating the Bundeswehr, a federal army initially Germany in NATO

30

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

containing 101,000 volunteers, which would quickly grow to 400,000. Rearmament required a change to the constitution to both federalize homeland defense and later to authorize conscription. The debate on German rearmament was bitter and fierce during the first half of the 1950s.45 While the SPD opposed a rearmament they feared would lead to an antidemocratic military that would enhance the division of Germany, public opinion was generally appalled at the thought of a new German military so soon after the war’s end.46 West Germany’s minister of internal affairs, Gustav Heinemann, even resigned in 1950 as a protest to Adenauer’s plans, as Adenauer was predisposed to accept Churchill’s idea that Germany should participate in a European brigade in the Korean War.47 Heinemann, a devout Christian, believed that disarmament was God’s punishment for recent German actions.48 Nonetheless, thanks in large part to the Korean War, German rearmament became a reality. The war in Korea militarized the Cold War, which despite considerable mistrust had avoided massive arms buildups. In German eyes the conflict also represented a parallel to their own situation. Would East Germany consider attacking West Germany to unify a divided nation? Furthermore, with the British and French still engaged in an attempt to maintain the last remnants of their empires, U.S. leaders felt a German military could provide a balance to Soviet conventional strength in Europe. Though Konrad Adenauer insisted that every country had the right to defend itself, the choice was not easy for the Germans. 49 Erich Ollenhauer of the SPD argued that rearmament would be a barrier to unification and was unnecessary.50 Others claimed that it was unconstitutional, though Adenauer insisted that only a war of aggression (Angriffskrieg) and not a defensive war (Abwehrskrieg) would violate the constitution.51 To prevent a resurgence of traditional militarism, the new German army was planned to be “citizens in uniform” rather than a professional army. Distant from old Prussian traditions, the new army planned by Wolf Graf von Baudissin, a former military officer who had spent much of the war as a POW, stressed that soldiers should not be part of a separate clique with special status. In the past the German military had been an institution of exalted status, with utmost loyalty demanded from soldiers, who should not question orders and who were part of a military hierarchy. The new army, disliked by some traditionalists, did away with all that, and instead demanded that soldiers understand politics, question orders they see as immoral, and have all their democratic rights intact even within the military structure.52 This idea

WEST GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY, 1945–1980

31

of “citizens in uniform” transformed the German military, but it also required universal conscription in order to assure that the army reflected society at large and was not a professional clique. The idea of universal conscription was greeted with hostility and suspicion. Even Adenauer had originally rejected the idea, fearing that it might lead people to question the legitimacy of the new democracy.53 By 1952 Adenauer came to defend universal conscription, arguing that claims it was unconstitutional were ridiculous: “If there is a right to conscientious objection to military service (Kriegsdienstverweigerung), there must be a right for the state to demand military service (Kriegsdienstverlangen).” Citizens could, however, choose a public service alternative to military duty. In an odd way, rearmament could be seen as an antinationalist act. Hans Mommsen notes that the opposition of many to rearmament was not primarily out of antimilitarism, but rather nationalism and the belief it made unification less likely.54 Adenauer feared future German nationalism, and NATO subjected German troops to an international organization.55 Adenauer’s control over foreign policy was hardly questioned within his own coalition due to his dominating role in forging the new West German state, and, despite heated debate, Germans ended up supporting Adenauer’s plans due to concerns about the Soviet threat, doubts about the Social Democratic alternative, and simple deference to the fact that the nation was doing quite well economically. Led by rapid export growth under favorable market conditions, economic recovery was swift and surprisingly strong. Between 1948 and 1952 West Germany’s gross national product (GNP) rose by 67 percent in real terms, while production rose by 110 percent.56 Although only 20 percent of the fixed industrial capital had been lost due to war damage or dismantling, the sudden recovery impressed the war-weary German people. Since the alternative to Adenauer’s strategy of western integration might risk this growth and prosperity, acceptance of a military seemed a tolerable price to pay. Furthermore, by the 1950s the Cold War was a reality no one could ignore. The East German state with Soviet support had cracked down on East German protesters in Berlin in 1953, and three years later the Soviets put down uprisings in Hungary. The public and most West German leaders remained skeptical of militarism and any effort to look at war as an acceptable act of statecraft. Apathy toward politics after the tumult of Weimar and the Nazi era led many to adopt the attitude of “ohne mich” (“without me”). In 1950–1951 only 38 percent of men polled said they would become sol-

32

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

diers, even if Germany were attacked. By 1955 NATO support reached 45 percent, but opposition was staunch against the stationing of NATO nuclear missiles in Germany. In 1958, the year that such missiles were introduced to Germany, 71 percent of the CDU and 90 percent of the SPD were opposed.57 Public apathy may have helped Adenauer continue his policies, as few rallied against these moves. The economy was growing at rates of 7–8 percent a year, with wages rising rapidly.58 If Germany were to be a part of the Western system and reap its rewards, it had to accept military responsibility and embrace the Cold War. In the 1950s this dissonance between public opinion and foreign policy could be brushed aside rather easily. Besides the knowledge that the new German military was very different from the old, Germany wedded its military to the NATO alliance, and the U.S. strategy of massive retaliation meant that it would be hard to imagine German soldiers actually fighting. Germans had the luxury of being able to have a military they did not need to take seriously, and they could speak in terms of using it only for their own defense, as their partners were taking care of their security interests and other Cold War confrontations. German rearmament occurred despite antimilitarism in the population, and by 1963 the Bundeswehr with over 400,000 troops had grown to the largest land force in Europe after the Soviet Red Army. For the most part, the Paris treaties of October 1954, which brought Germany into NATO as a full member on May 5, 1955, meant that Germany had regained its sovereignty. Germany approached equality in the system by rejecting pure antimilitarism and rearming; moreover, rearmament was seen as less nationalist as it integrated Germany into the West. Adenauer had successfully used multilateralism and integration into Western institutions both to gain room to maneuver on the world stage and to balance emerging postwar domestic norms. The failure of the EDC meant that proponents of European integration, many of whom believed that a “United States of Europe” was a possibility, were disappointed. Sovereignty was alive and well in Europe, and so attention shifted back to economic cooperation. Shortly after the EDC initiative fell apart, negotiations began that would lead to the March 25, 1957, signing of the treaties of Rome creating the European Community (EC).59 The logic for European integration had changed. Rather than trying to merge the countries quickly into a unit that could Germany in the European Community

WEST GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY, 1945–1980

33

overcome sovereignty and nationalism, a “neofunctional” approach was chosen whereby European states would first build a customs union and enjoy the benefits of free trade across borders. Those benefits, it was expected, would encourage demands for further integration, a “spillover” effect that ultimately would lead to a union.60 All tariffs between the six original members, the same as those who signed the ECSC agreement, would be eliminated within fifteen years (this was accomplished ahead of schedule). This was truly a radical departure from traditional European politics. Tariffs had been a mainstay of policy for centuries, and to both eliminate them between the six and develop a common external tariff would have been seen as a utopian freetrade fantasy before World War II. The French, who had no desire to give up sovereignty, were joining the community primarily out of self-interest, rather than the Benelux countries (Belgium, the Netherlands, and Luxembourg) whose small size made it virtually impossible for them to compete economically without free trade. The French recognized the need to link Germany and its economy to the West but feared that Germany would come to dominate Europe’s economy, fears similar to the military concerns that led to the demise of the EDC. The French demanded and got agreement to form what would later become the Common Agricultural Policy (CAP), which on implementation would subsidize farmers by setting minimum target prices for most agricultural goods. Although it would take until July 1968 to completely implement the program, the CAP became very important to European farmers, especially the French who were in a position to benefit the most due to their large agricultural sector. They saw this as a fair compromise, given that Germany would benefit by having a free market for its industrial goods, enhancing its economic recovery. In a different historical context the Germans might have balked at the CAP, but the emerging EC fit in well with Adenauer’s desire to prove Germany a part of the West and would allow Germany to enhance its economic performance without being seen as a threat. The goal of the integrationists was to merge the states of Europe, but the motives of the political leaders were based on national self-interest. SPD opposition continued, but by the late 1950s the mix of Soviet repression in the East bloc and economic prosperity in the West made their message seem out of touch with reality. In 1957 the SPD suffered an election disaster, as the CDU and the Christian Social Union (CSU) for the first and only time had the opportunity to form a majority government without needing a coalition partner. The returns demonstrated

34

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

strong support for Adenauer’s policies. Although German foreign policy had not yet moved toward institutionalism and multilateralism as embedded policy norms, such a move was made possible by the redefinition of German national interest within a Western set of ideals, such as economic cooperation, free trade, and shared values. The economic success of the 1950s and 1960s helped solidify the belief that Western norms were indeed good for Germany, and once the Social Democrats joined the consensus on Westpolitik, Adenauer’s tactics began to take root as real foreign policy values. The First Consensus: Germany’s Western Identity

With the German economy booming, the European Community starting to function, and rearmament a fact, the Social Democrats were in disarray. The antipathy of the SPD toward Western integration was increasingly at odds with the views of West German society, especially among younger members of the party itself. Low vote totals in the 1950s demonstrated that the SPD was a secondary party, one apparently destined for eternal opposition. Analysts predicted that Social Democratic strength could never surpass 40 percent of the vote and would probably remain lower.61 When the CDU reached the pinnacle of its electoral success in the 1957 elections, the “reformist” wing of the Social Democratic party, led by Herbert Wehner, Willy Brandt, and Fritz Erler, garnered enough support to institute change in party positions. Still, as late as early 1959 the SPD’s official position was the Deutschlandplan, “Germany Plan,” which called for disarmament, reunification through détente, and a peace treaty with the Soviet Union that would help create a common European defense system. The plan, built in part on the ideas of George Kennan and Polish prime minister Adam Rapacki, appeared to suggest continued Social Democratic opposition to Western integration.62 However, it had been drafted by the younger leaders in part to demonstrate that the ideas of the older generation were based on idealistic illusions.63 Six months after unveiling the Deutschlandplan, the SPD passed the Bad Godesberg program of 1959, where the party jettisoned many of the Marxist aspects of its platform and adopted a reformist attitude to capitalist economics, while also supporting Germany’s rearmament and membership in NATO, a major reversal in positions. The result was that the SPD joined the Westpolitik consensus, completing the first phase of the Adenauer-inspired reconstruction of German iden-

WEST GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY, 1945–1980

35

tity. On June 30, 1960, Wehner gave a speech in the Bundestag giving total support to the policies of the previous decade; the SPD had acquiesced to Adenauer’s Westpolitik. It is not surprising that the Left was slower than the Right to jettison the perspective of the past, even though the Right is traditionally more nationalist. Adenauer’s CDU was a party that rejected nationalism and the extreme aspects of the old Right that had led to the rise of Hitler. Much like the Christian Democrats in Italy, the “new” Right in Germany was a centrist movement, as much of the “old” Right had been deemed illegitimate after the fascist experience. The Left, having fought against Hitler, was less inclined to change its approach, believing it had been correct all along. By 1959, however, a new generation of Social Democrat leaders embraced the norms of the post–World War II world. The revamped SPD, with charismatic West Berlin mayor Willy Brandt as its chancellor candidate, managed 36 percent of the vote in the 1961 election, five percentage points above its previous high. The Social Democrats also emphasized building ties with the United States. Party leaders like Fritz Erler traveled extensively in the United States and built relationships designed to assure the Americans that the Social Democrats were no longer opposed to Germany’s Western identity.64 In 1965 the Brandt-led party approached 40 percent for the first time, in an election The Economist described as a choice between “Tweedlewilly and Tweedleludwig,” a play on words emphasizing the similar positions of the CDU candidate Ludwig Erhard and Willy Brandt. The free-market British magazine complained that the SPD had become “hardly distinguishable from its opponents” due to its “hungry bid for power.”65 Brandt was not only an up-and-coming star for the SPD, but he had been mayor of Berlin in 1961 when the Berlin Wall was built. Berlin, like Germany, was divided into East and West, with the western zones enjoying not only freedom and a market economy but also considerable support from West Germany. In 1948–1949 Stalin had tried to destroy this enclave of Western ideals in the heart of East Germany, only a few miles from the Polish border, by blocking access to the West and demanding that Berlin be unified under Soviet control. This not only cut Berlin off from Western goods, but also meant that electricity, water, and other essentials would be in short supply, as the plants that provided them were primarily in the Soviet zone. The West, led by the United States, responded with a massive airlift, bringing supplies to keep West Berlin afloat throughout the winter, signaling to the Soviets that Berlin would not be surrendered. This had a direct benefit to the United States,

36

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

as suddenly it was not seen as an occupying power bent on keeping Germans down but a liberator helping West Berlin avoid Soviet domination. Though Stalin was forced to back down from his blockade, the issue of Berlin remained a crucial issue with the potential to launch World War III. As late as 1958 Soviet leader Nikita Khrushchev issued an ultimatum that Berlin be unified. Fearing that the United States might be tempted to deal with the Soviets on Berlin, Adenauer chose to develop a closer relationship with new French president Charles De Gaulle. 66 Khrushchev’s demand was ignored by both Presidents Eisenhower and Kennedy, but many in the Kennedy administration feared the Cuban missile crisis was a diversion to mask possible Soviet moves in Berlin. The reason the East Germans and Soviets demanded Berlin become fully part of the East German state is clear. In the 1950s, as it became obvious that West Germany was outperforming the East economically, as well as providing individual liberties, East Germans started to migrate to the West, using Berlin as an access point. With no barrier between the western and eastern portions of Berlin, people crossed daily to the other side to work, shop, or visit friends. This had always been a nuisance to the East Germans, but by the early 1960s it had become a crisis.67 Migration out of the East to the West was increasing dramatically, rising to more than 300,000 in 1961 (with more than a million having gone to the West via Berlin since 1949). Not only were people fleeing the “worker and farmer’s paradise,” but the people who were leaving were largely the skilled workers East Germany desperately needed to retain. If the emigration had kept up, the East German state might have collapsed twenty-eight years earlier, with repercussions throughout the Communist world. In August 1961, with Soviet approval, the East Germans erected a barbed wire barrier preventing movement between the two sections of Berlin, which later became a permanent barrier guarded by soldiers with orders to shoot to kill anyone attempting to cross over. U.S. president John F. Kennedy came to Berlin and made the wall a symbol for the differences between communism and democracy, noting that Communists had to use a wall to keep their people from trying to leave. In expressing his and the world’s solidarity with West Berlin in his famous ich bin ein Berliner speech, Kennedy made it easier for Brandt and the SPD to commit fully to Western institutions.68 This new consensus was so strong that it survived an attack from its architect. Konrad Adenauer upset many in even his own party by

WEST GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY, 1945–1980

37

embracing the principles of European cooperation enunciated by his fellow Catholic conservative, Charles De Gaulle. De Gaulle envisioned Europe as a third force between the two superpowers and saw FrancoGerman cooperation (under the leadership of France) as a way to build a confederal conservative European alternative to superpower politics. Adenauer’s Gaullism inspired considerable controversy within his own party, eroding his ability to control the Christian Democratic agenda.69 When the 1961 elections saw large gains for the FDP and SPD, causing the CDU/CSU to lose the absolute majority it had won in 1957, arguments against Adenauer’s Gaullist tilt increased. In order to form a coalition with the Free Democratic Party (FDP), Adenauer had to promise to resign in 1963. He also could not prevent the 1963 Friendship Treaty between France and West Germany from having pro-Atlanticist language added to the preamble in order to prevent the document from being read as support for a Gaullist version of Europe. After the coalition’s brief collapse in 1962, a result of the Spiegel affair, in which German officials broke into the offices of Der Spiegel magazine on orders from Defense Minister Franz Josef Strauss, Adenauer was a lame duck. Even within his own party he could not stop Ludwig Erhard, an avowed Atlanticist, from taking party leadership.70 The Atlanticists won because the Germans trusted the United States more than France to protect their interests. Furthermore, U.S. strength meant that Germans could feel secure without having to develop an enhanced military capacity, something which would not be the case in a Franco-German partnership. Atlanticism fit more easily than Gaullism with domestic antimilitarist norms. Adenauer’s conversion to Gaullism puzzles some analysts who attribute the move largely to the personal friendship between the two leaders. Adenauer’s emotional visit to France in 1962 included a prayer session with De Gaulle at the Reims cathedral, while two months later Germans treated De Gaulle to a hero’s welcome when he visited Germany. De Gaulle not only praised the German people, but went out of his way to memorize speeches in German, a significant act of respect given the importance De Gaulle put on language. The rapprochement was emotional, deep, real, and reflected the start of a Franco-German collaboration that would be central to the future development of European cooperation. Some think the elderly Adenauer was simply smitten with the drama of reconciliation with France and De Gaulle. Such a view underestimates Adenauer’s political acumen. Adenauer had been dismayed when France broke off negotiations on nuclear weapons

38

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

with Germany, and was furious when De Gaulle unilaterally blocked Great Britain’s entry into the EC just a week before the Friendship Treaty was to be signed. De Gaulle’s argument in the early 1960s nonetheless fit well with Adenauer’s beliefs about the future of Europe—De Gaulle called for an end to communism, future German unification, a Europe from “the Atlantic to the Urals.”71 It was unclear just how a future Europe would look, and Adenauer could honestly argue that De Gaulle’s vision explicitly did not preclude partnership with the United States, even if it saw a more independent role for Europe. Most importantly, Adenauer’s Gaullist tilt was a logical response to changes in the international environment that threatened the domestic consensus Adenauer had forged. As the Soviets became a nuclear power capable of threatening the United States, the Americans became willing to talk about arms control. The United States had pursued a policy of “massive retaliation,” which in essence threatened a nuclear strike against the Soviet Union should it attack Europe. Saying that a war with the Soviet Union must become an all-out nuclear war made less sense to U.S. policymakers once Soviet missiles could hit American cities.72 Both De Gaulle and Adenauer worried that the United States and the Soviet Union might decide to deal with each other, with European interests secondary to superpower concerns.73 The alternative was the doctrine of flexible response, which stated that a conflict with the Soviet Union did not necessarily have to entail a massive nuclear response. Rather, the United States would respond in the way most appropriate, willing to move up the ladder of escalation from conventional to nuclear war if necessary. Nuclear war itself would not necessarily have to entail annihilation but could be limited to theater or intermediate nuclear weapons. A limited war could pull Europe into a war over some other part of the world as escalation to nuclear weapons would most likely involve European-based systems; in any event, a limited nuclear war would certainly mean a lot of dead Europeans. Adenauer knew that this change, inevitable as it might be with nuclear superpower parity, could also enhance arguments for a neutral Germany outside the Western alliance. A more independent Europe would be able to represent its own interests in response to superpower strategies. While De Gaulle’s approach emphasized sovereignty and Adenauer was for deeper integration, the ultimate outcome was distant enough to allow both to see deeper European cooperation as a good first step. Rather than being an interesting sidelight, Adenauer’s flirtation

WEST GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY, 1945–1980

39

with Gaullism was a sign that the German postwar consensus was not as firm as it appeared. Not only was public opinion skeptical of some NATO military policies, but Adenauer still put German national interest and sovereignty first, even if he defined these in a more liberal Western manner than Germans had done in the past. He had not supported integration as a goal of overcoming sovereignty, but as a way to best pursue Germany’s interest in a constrained environment. He had much in common with De Gaulle besides their Catholicism and conservatism. Each went along with integration out of a belief that it was best for his respective country. European cooperation was necessary—internal European wars had to be avoided—but states were sovereign and cooperated out of self-interest. The victory of the Atlanticists also reflects less a norm of multilateralism than a belief that it was in Germany’s interest to have a strong American ally rather than rely on France. However, it is also telling that it was Ludwig Erhard, the architect of the “social market economy,” who led the Atlanticists. Erhard understood the fundamental importance of economics in the postwar era, and his desire to favor the Americans over the French was not just due to a belief that the United States could better deter the Soviets, but also a recognition that German economic interests were more easily achieved through close relations between the Europeans and Americans. Adenauer and De Gaulle reflected a preoccupation with the “high politics” of diplomacy and power. Erhard represented what was slowly coming to dominate German interests, the primacy of economics. De Gaulle’s policies did cause the United States to consider making the pot sweeter for the Germans to stay in the U.S.-led system. In late 1962, reacting in part to the De Gaulle–Adenauer meeting of the minds, U.S. national security adviser McGeorge Bundy revived an old Eisenhower administration idea of a multilateral nuclear force (MLF), which spoke of a “unified and multinational European force, effectively integrated with our own necessarily predominant strength in the whole nuclear defense of the alliance.”74 Bundy was vague and Secretary of State Dean Rusk said it was up to the Europeans to put forth a plan for a nuclear force “not so heavily dependent on the United States alone.”75 The first step toward a multilateral force was the U.S.–UK Nassau agreement, wherein each country committed a part of its national forces to a NATO force. The agreement was genuinely vague and apparently did nothing but put British nuclear forces under NATO and thus U.S. command. De Gaulle believed that the results of this agreement proved that talk of a multilateral force was just rhetorical sweet talk to make

40

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

U.S. control more palatable. It is likely that the Nassau agreement was the final factor in De Gaulle’s decision to veto British membership in the EC, although it is probable that De Gaulle was leaning strongly that way anyway. On January 14, 1963, nine days before the Franco-German Friendship Treaty was signed, De Gaulle vetoed British membership in the EC and announced in the same press conference that France rejected a Nassau-style multilateral force, stressing the need for an autonomous French force.76 When the MLF finally took shape as a concrete proposal in April 1963, Undersecretary of State George Ball noted that there would be collective decisionmaking over the use of the force, and each state would have veto power over the use of nuclear weapons within the force.77 The United States believed that the MLF was the only way to promote European collective defense within a framework that assured an active role to West Germany; it would supposedly cement the alliance and promote cohesiveness. However, for all but the Erhard government, the MLF looked like a farce. The United States would still control numerous nuclear weapons outside the force, and hence dominate nuclear strategy. The main impact of the plan would have been simply to legitimize West German participation in the nuclear defense of Western Europe by giving it a role in the planning of strategy and a veto of MLF use. In that regard, only West Germany had any real interest in seeing the MLF proposal reach fruition, and indeed only West Germany gave the proposal consistent support. In Britain, Harold Wilson had a hard time understanding how the proposal would enhance deterrence or help satisfy potential West German nuclear ambition, noting “if you have a boy and wish to sublimate his sex appetite, it is unwise to take him to a strip tease show.”78 By 1964 the United States had let the MLF plan die, but the episode demonstrated that the postAdenauer CDU was firmly Atlanticist in perspective. Erhard supported a program that had solid French opposition, recognizing that it increased the German role in determining defense strategy, without sacrificing anything substantial. The United States offered the plan primarily to assure that the Germans would be satisfied with their role in a U.S.-led system and would not be tempted by a Gaullist alternative. Though it failed, it reinforced the idea that Germans benefit most from cooperative multilateral arrangements. Though Adenauer’s legacy continued (especially with CSU leader Franz Josef Strauss who espoused an essentially Gaullist line and criticized the new leadership for rejecting the path Adenauer had set), the

WEST GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY, 1945–1980

41

identity of Germany as an Atlanticist western liberal state was complete.79 Nothing illustrates this better than the Grand Coalition formed between the CDU/CSU and SPD in 1966, with Kurt Kiesinger of the CDU as chancellor, and Willy Brandt as vice chancellor and foreign minister. Although vehemently criticized by the left wing of the SPD and the right wing of the CDU/CSU, the grand coalition symbolized the relative homogeneity in German politics by the late 1960s, especially in foreign policy.80 Even the brief rise of the neo-Nazi NDP in 1966 and the student protests of the late 1960s seem inconsequential when compared to the consensus in German politics during that era. Through it all, the German army grew to become the largest western land force on the continent, the backbone of NATO’s conventional defenses. Growth of the army was not accompanied by increased pro-militarism within the German public, however. In 1968 the German army had a major problem with keeping low-level officers. The reasons: lack of job security, lack of social prestige, and too little money. Public disdain for the military made such a career seem almost embarrassing.81 This complaint would remain common into the 1990s. In the final analysis, the failures of early SPD policy and the later Gaullist alternative reflected the emerging reality that Germany needed economic success and that the path toward that success required integration in the West and stable institutional structures. The same kind of institutional focus on multilateral cooperation helped Germany deal with the next major dilemma: what to do about East Germany’s continued viability as a separate state. Ostpolitik

Germany had always had trouble balancing its interests in the West with those in the East. That was one reason for Adenauer’s emphasis on the West; he wanted to solve the problem once and for all by defining Germany as a Western state. But that does not eliminate the impact of Germany’s geographic position in the center of Europe (Mittellage) or dismiss real German interests in the region. This problem, illustrated by East Germany’s growing viability as a separate German state, could be dealt with in a number of ways. At first, the Christian Democratic government tried denying the legitimacy of East Germany (GDR), refusing to have anything to do with any state granting diplomatic recognition to the GDR.82 This policy, known as the Hallstein doctrine, had been officially announced by

42

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

Foreign Minister Heinrich von Bretano in 1955.83 It was an attempt to isolate Eastern Europe, pressuring the Soviets to ease their control. In 1957 when Yugoslavia officially recognized East Germany, for example, the West Germans broke diplomatic relations with Tito’s state. The Hallstein doctrine was a logical result of adopting a totally Western/Atlanticist identity. The alternative to integration in the West— a Germany with interests in Eastern Europe—was rejected from the start. In essence, the Hallstein doctrine was an attempt to ignore the challenges facing the new foreign policy consensus. Interests in the East were defined as illegitimate by definition as long as German division continued, meaning the only possible focus for the new West German state would be westward. Breaks in the hardline strategy began when it became clear the East and West blocs were consolidating into a form that would not easily be changed. As more states began dealing with the East, the Christian Democratic strategy of defining the East bloc as illegitimate became nearly impossible to maintain. Adenauer had recognized that German policy toward the East had to change and had himself been moving toward the kind of Ostpolitik Willy Brandt would later follow, emphasizing an attempt to humanize affairs with “the zone” (East Germany).84 The Christian Democrats under Erhard and then Kurt-Georg Kiesinger recognized they needed to do something different and opened trade with Eastern Europe, with efforts intensifying after the Grand Coalition came to power. Ludwig Erhard tried a peace initiative with his 1966 “peace note,” but many in Eastern Europe saw it as more of a threat than an overture, especially with Kiesinger’s refusal to give in on the question of Germany’s proper borders.85 The Grand Coalition of the CDU/CSU with the SPD governed from 1966 to 1969, but it could not agree on how to deal with the East. In 1963 Egon Bahr, confidant of and adviser to Willy Brandt, gave a speech at the Protestant Academy in Tutzing, calling for Wandel durch Annäherung (change through reconciliation). Kurt Kiesinger, Christian Democrat chancellor during the Grand Coalition also thought that détente and arms control were necessary, though he saw this as a longer-term goal.86 The CDU/CSU reinterpreted the Hallstein doctrine slightly (defining East European states as not being directly in violation since they had no choice but to recognize East Germany) but refused to disavow it. This reorientation had an impact; trade went up 83 percent between East and West Germany in the 1960s, and travel increased slowly. The Soviets also pressured the Ulbricht regime of East Germany

WEST GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY, 1945–1980

43

to engage in a dialogue with the West, moving relations forward. 87 When the SPD called on Kiesinger to consider accepting the post-1945 borders he angrily argued that this would break with the legal and political basis of German foreign policy.88 Personally popular, Brandt decided in 1969 that the time had come for the SPD to lead Germany, and after the 1969 elections he engineered an agreement with the FDP that replaced the grand coalition with the SPD/FDP “social-liberal” coalition. The Free Democrats had earlier published a paper that accepted the post–World War II borders, called for disarmament of both states, and shifted toward the Social Democratic position.89 This was the first time since the founding of the FRG that the Christian Democrats were out of power.90 Brandt advocated closer relations with the East, based in part on his experiences as mayor of West Berlin. His advisers were more diverse than those of Kiesinger, with more originally from the East.91 His negotiations with East Germany in the early 1960s after the construction of the Berlin Wall had yielded positive results, convincing Brandt and Egon Bahr that it would be possible to work with East Germany while not giving up Western ideals. German opinion of the United States and the traditional nature of the alliance had been hurt by U.S. policies in Vietnam.92 Still, Brandt was determined that Ostpolitik should not be a challenge to Germany’s Western identity. Germans took note when U.S. president Lyndon Johnson stated that only East-West détente could lead to German unification. 93 The idea of building stronger relations between the two Germanies was not necessarily anti-Western. Once chancellor, Brandt initiated an ambitious set of policies popularly known as Ostpolitik, which significantly departed from Bonn’s earlier approach by creating a broad range of official contacts between East and West Germany, jettisoning the Hallstein doctrine, and finding a solution to the continual crises in Berlin.94 Understanding the causes of Ostpolitik and reasons for its success has been a daunting task for historians and political scientists.95 M. E. Sarotte argues that the small number of people involved at top levels are the reason it succeeded, and focuses both on the relationship that developed between Egon Bahr and East German negotiator Michael Kohl, and on the way U.S. détente was used to undercut any possibility that Brandt might go too far and either intentionally or unintentionally create a strong desire in both Germanies to overcome the East-West divide. 96 Brandt’s achievements were stunning, starting with the Moscow treaty in August 1970, which affirmed post–World War II bor-

44

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

ders and renounced violence and territorial ambitions. Brandt then signed a treaty normalizing relations with Poland (December 1970) and negotiated the Basic Treaty with the GDR to define the nature of intraGerman relations (1972). Although East Germany did not get the recognition it wanted, the two exchanged “permanent representatives” (rather than ambassadors) and set out a detailed list of cooperative endeavors. This also allowed each to petition to join the United Nations, which both accomplished in June 1973. The most important treaty reached in Brandt’s Ostpolitik era was the Quadripartite agreement (1971) codifying the status of Berlin and in essence removing it as a crisis area for the foreseeable future. West Berlin would not be part of the FRG, but the Soviets would allow nonpolitical (i.e., cultural, economic, and educational) involvement by the West Germans in the life of the city. The FRG could in turn represent West Berlin abroad. Finally, after Brandt left office in 1974 due to a scandal in which one of his staff, Günter Guillaume, was found to be an East German spy, Ostpolitik along with American détente led to the 1975 Helsinki accords at the Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe (CSCE). These agreements, in which the West accepted the postwar status quo in exchange for Soviet agreement on the importance of human rights, arguably set the stage for later German unification.97 The Moscow treaty showed Soviet concern that West Germany agree to East German borders with Poland, contradicting the East German contention that the FRG’s position on East Germany’s borders was irrelevant. The reason for this is clear. From the start, Germany was adamant that the land taken from them after World War II was German; Schumacher had been vigorous in refusing to accept the validity of postwar borders, and, as late as 1965, Social Democrat Fritz Erler was admonished for suggesting acceptance of the Oder-Neisse border with Poland.98 Moscow knew that this was one issue that could potentially cause Germans to believe they were justified in undertaking an aggressive foreign policy, and it wanted to get international legal agreements that would undercut that potential future threat.99 The enhanced human contact between East and West kept alive the idea that Germans were one people, with a common language and heritage. The social/liberal coalition also made an important shift in the discourse of inter-German relations. Rather than stressing German unity, cultural unity and a desire to improve conditions in the East dominated the political agenda. The idea of “one nation in two states” justified this move, which despite harsh criticism from the CDU/CSU on

WEST GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY, 1945–1980

45

legal grounds, gained widespread public acceptance.100 Increased travel between East and West Germany, along with other cultural exchanges and minor agreements on pollution and human rights issues, dramatically altered the nature of intra-German relations. For Brandt and Bahr this Wandel durch Annäherung was the best way to alter the stagnation in intra-German relations. The Christian Democrats mounted strong domestic opposition in order to, as they put it, “protect the idea of German unity.” The irony was not lost on the Social Democrats; when they opposed Adenauer’s Westpolitik in the 1950s they argued it was to keep the idea of unification alive. Now that rationale was used to counter their Ostpolitik. Just as external realities and policy success forced the SPD to join the consensus on Western integration, the same would ultimately bring the CDU on board for normalizing relations with the East. The consensus on Ostpolitik proved harder to build than the one on Westpolitik had, primarily because, unlike the SPD in the 1950s, the CDU in the late 1960s and early 1970s could mount strong and effective opposition.101 In the 1969 election Kiesinger’s Christian Democrats had almost grabbed a majority; it had been one of their best overall showings, earning Kiesinger a congratulatory phone call from U.S. president Richard Nixon. Although Brandt patched together a six-seat majority to form the first government not including the CDU—angering Christian Democratic leaders, who felt by then that they were entitled to a leadership role in any German government—maintaining that majority was difficult. As Brandt constructed his policies, his coalition wavered, with Kiesinger attacking Brandt for allegedly sacrificing the very principles of West German policy. The rhetoric made it appear that for the Christian Democrats a “double consensus” was not possible; Ostpolitik was a denial of the policies started by Adenauer. Opposition spread, with more defections from the coalition, taking the majority down to virtually nothing. Since the splits in the Bundestag were so intense, Brandt lacked the votes to ratify the hard won treaties, and the success of Ostpolitik was uncertain. In 1972, Christian Democratic leader Rainer Barzel tried to topple Chancellor Brandt with a constructive vote of no confidence, hoping to renegotiate the Moscow treaty after regaining power for the CDU.102 That attempt failed, thanks to two votes from CDU members in the secret ballot, allowing Brandt to win treaty ratification. Brandt, honored with the 1971 Nobel Peace Prize for his Ostpolitik efforts, called for early elections in 1972, which gave the coalition a comfortable majority; for the first time, the SPD was the

46

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

largest party in the Bundestag. By the late 1970s the second leg of the double consensus was all but complete. Helmut Kohl, who had become chairman of the CDU in 1973, took a pragmatic approach, but it was only after the Christian Democrats came to power that Kohl stymied residual opposition to what Brandt had accomplished. Ostpolitik has to be understood alongside both the consensus over Western integration and the German establishment’s rejection of Gaullism. External conditions made it impossible in the long run simply to ignore the East by denying the legitimacy of the GDR and German interests in the region. The West Germans could have handled this in three ways. First, they could have attempted to backtrack and undo the consensus on Western integration, pushing for German unification and an active German effort to curry favor in Eastern Europe. By the late 1960s, however, this approach was virtually impossible, given the nature of Soviet dominance in the East and the limits of history. Another possibility would have been to undertake a Gaullist policy, to see Europe as an actor between the superpowers and to attempt to carve out a set of European interests in the East that would at least in part reflect German national interests. De Gaulle had made efforts to open relations with the Soviet Union and Eastern Europe in the mid-1960s with such a goal in mind. This approach would have been a more hardnosed form of Ostpolitik, enhanced by independence from U.S. policies. That path had effectively been rejected in 1963, when Erhard replaced Adenauer and, with Germany firmly in the Atlanticist camp, De Gaulle decided to pull France out of the organizational component of NATO.103 Brandt’s policies did not just open up to the East; he complemented Ostpolitik by expanding West Germany’s institutional integration with the West. Less than a month after he took office in late October 1969, Germany agreed to sign the nuclear nonproliferation treaty. Germany had initially opposed the treaty because it tied the hands of future German foreign policy and suggested collusion between the Soviet Union and the United States on nuclear weapons issues.104 Brandt in essence agreed that Germany was not the same kind of country it had been and that it did not need to have nuclear weapons. Germany became a vocal supporter of Britain’s entry into the EC after De Gaulle resigned as president of France, and in general supported any move to strengthen the EC. Brandt reasoned that if Ostpolitik were to be successful, he would have to deepen Westpolitik in order to prevent allies from thinking Germany was reverting back to the power games of the old

WEST GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY, 1945–1980

47

Reich. 105 Brandt made it clear that Germany wanted to expand European integration, and the French went along, perhaps seeing Britain as a potential counter to Germany’s opening to the East. 106 Brandt also supported the Werner plan offered by Luxembourg’s prime minister to create a common European monetary system. This plan promised a dramatic move forward in integrating the economies of the EC, although the oil crisis and breakup of the Bretton Woods system of fixed exchange rates caused the plan to disintegrate. Henry Kissinger, reacting to Brandt’s policies, stated that there was a “latent incompatibility between Germany’s national aims and its Atlantic and European ties.”107 Western integration had been a rejection of a Germany straddling the worlds of East and West, but Brandt’s policies required closer ties with the East. The only way to look to both the East and West without creating internal contradictions was to focus on institutionalism and multilateralism as the policy logic. Ostpolitik did, of course, include bilateral treaties with a number of states. The aim of those treaties (with Poland, Czechoslovakia, the Soviet Union, and of course East Germany, which was not officially considered “bilateral”) was to normalize relations and pledge adherence to the status quo as a first step toward building wider cooperative structures such as the CSCE. By reaffirming Western integration at the same time, Brandt could plausibly argue that Ostpolitik was an attempt to help bring Western institutional arrangements to the East, which would ultimately undo tensions and make the Cold War unnecessary. Once again, an institutional approach whereby West Germans defined their interests as “western interests” or as “values of peace and cooperation” worked. The Double Consensus: A Balanced Cold War Foreign Policy

After Brandt’s departure, his replacement Helmut Schmidt shifted the focus of policy, downplaying Ostpolitik and emphasizing the importance of superpower détente. Quiet cooperation continued. In 1975 the West German government took no action against East Germany when it expelled Der Spiegel and the ARD television station; in fact, that December the FRG and GDR signed a comprehensive travel agreement.108 The Christian Democrat response to Ostpolitik, however, continued to be vocal and often harsh. Granting legitimacy of any kind to the East German government was viewed as akin to treason at worst, or

48

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

coddling dictators at best. Perhaps if the CDU had displaced the Social Democrats in 1972 or 1976 they might have taken a different course, but by the time they came to power in 1982 they continued Brandt’s policies, even after the United States rejected détente. The reason was quite simple: Ostpolitik worked, and no feasible alternative could achieve the same ends. Normalizing relations with the East allowed Germany to maintain its adherence to the Western alliance, even when many Germans feared that the United States would be too quick to draw Europe into a war that would destroy Germany. Part of this effort was domestic, convincing a skeptical public that they were working to make sure that the feared war would never happen. Part was international, simply dealing with the reality that Germany could not define the Eastern bloc as off limits for any substantial length of time. Staying loyal to the West allowed the FRG to build relationships with the USSR, East Germany, and other East European states without being accused of reverting to Germany’s old position of straddling East and West. Beyond that, the success of Western integration and the economic benefits it brought provided a model for German relations with the East. By the late 1960s it was evident that the workers’ and farmers’ paradise was an economic clunker. Germany had embraced democracy and markets in no small part due to the economic success that cooperation and openness had brought. Trying to expand such thinking and results eastward would arguably weaken rather than strengthen the Communists’ hold on power, which could open the door to slow reforms, or at the very least a situation in which neither side saw it even remotely in their interests to fight a European war. At first glance, this “double consensus” appears contradictory, and tensions occurred until the end of the Cold War, causing some to doubt the stability of NATO. The double consensus functioned best when it coincided with U.S. détente, when Germany was clearly within the Western consensus of how to treat the Soviet Union and the Communist world. Even when in the 1980s that consensus was challenged first by renewed East-West hostility, and then by the Eastern bloc crumbling, the path of multilateralism and institutional cooperation provided Germany with a means to balance potential contradictions, using institutionalism not just as a method but ultimately as a goal itself. It is hard to pinpoint precisely when this transformation from tactic to foreign policy value took place, but it was no doubt seeping into the consciousness of German elites and citizens through-

WEST GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY, 1945–1980

49

out the 1960s and 1970s. What began as a strategy to achieve German interests in a world where Germany was divided, sovereignty was not fully granted, and allied approval was needed for most initiatives, later became its own set of goals and interests. Perhaps the most compelling explanation as to why this happened is that nothing succeeds like success. These strategies worked, helping Germans navigate two major sets of issues—integration with the West and rearmament on the one hand, opening to the East and developing a stable relationship with East Germany on the other—without arousing undue fear from the outside or internal unrest. The basic principles on which Germany’s post–World War II foreign policy identity was built were chosen out of tactical necessity, not a deep desire to move toward a multilateral, cooperative “Kantian” international system. However, the efficacy of these principles in balancing German Cold War concerns and pursuing national interests via the use of soft power in institutional settings slowly came to define the norms and shared understandings guiding German foreign policy, a post-sovereign foreign policy identity. Over the next twenty plus years, the strength and resilience of this double consensus and Germany’s emerging post-sovereign foreign policy identity would be tested. Notes

1. Shirer, The Nightmare Years, 1930–1940, p. 629. 2. Behrenbeck, “Heldenkult oder Friedensmahnung?” 3. Annan, Changing Enemies, p. 160. 4. Pronay, “To Stamp Out the Whole Tradition,” p. 1. 5. See Kettenacker, “The Planning of Re-education During the Second World War,” p. 63. 6. The DFG was grounded in 1892 and had 30,000 active members in the 1920s. As late as July 31, 1929, 150,000 demonstrators marched through Berlin saying “nie wieder Krieg” (“never again war”). Grünewald and Riesenberger, “Die Friedensbewegung nach den Weltkriegen,” pp. 96–121. 7. Wette, “Die deutsche militärische Führungsschicht in den Nachkriegszeiten,” pp. 59–63. 8. For a detailed analysis of German pacifistic norms since World War II, see Berger, Cultures of Anti-militarism. 9. Steininger, “The German Question,” p. 10. 10. Annan, Changing Enemies, pp. 139–140. 11. McAllister, No Exit, pp. 76–77. 12. Gimble, The Origins of the Marshall Plan, p. 56. 13. Annan, Changing Enemies, p. 221.

50

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

14. The CDU can trace its roots back to the Katholischer Klub or “Catholic Club” of 1848, and first as a political party with the Catholic Zentrumspartei in 1871. In the first elections of the Weimar Republic the Zentrumspartei received nearly 20 percent of the vote, but by the early 1930s its total had fallen to around 12 percent, and the party capitulated in the vote to grant Adolf Hitler dictatorial powers through the Ermächtigungsgesetz. After World War II they moved away from their Catholic exclusivity to become a mass party based on Christian principles but not a confessional or religious party. In Bavaria the Christian Social Union (CSU) formed an alternative party to the CDU, and reached an agreement with the CDU wherein the CSU runs only in Bavaria, while the CDU eschews participation in Bavarian elections, and the two cooperate on federal issues. 15. Banchoff, The German Problem Transformed, p. 37. 16. Annan, Changing Enemies, p. 172. 17. Paterson, The SPD and European Integration, p. 25. 18. Düffler, “Supranationalität und Machtpolitik im Denken deutscher politischer Eliten nach den beiden Weltkriegen,” p. 89. 19. Hanrieder, West German Foreign Policy 1949–1963, pp. 228–243. 20. The SPD can trace its party roots back to 1863, making it the oldest party in Germany, though banned by Bismarck from 1871 to 1891, and by Hitler from 1933 to 1945. The party can trace its roots back to Marx and Engels, and separated from the Communists after the Russian Revolution when the SPD pursued democratic reform in the Weimar Republic while the KPD demanded a revolution like that of the Soviet Union. With the KPD banned by Hitler, the SPD was the only party to actively oppose and vote against Hitler’s Ermächtigungsgesetz. 21. Kistler, Bundesdeutsche Geschichte, p. 65. 22. Paterson, The SPD and European Integration, p. 30. 23. For general information on early German policy toward the EC, see Feld, West Germany and the European Community. 24. Hanrieder, West German Foreign Policy 1949–1963, pp. 200–206. 25. Keesing’s Contemporary Archives, April 30–May 7, 1955, pp. 14, 169–170. 26. Düffler, “Supranationalität und Machtpolitik im Denken deutscher politischer Eliten nach den beiden Weltkriegen,” pp. 79–80. 27. For more on Schumacher, see Buczylowski, Kurt Schumacher und die deutsche Frage. 28. Doering-Manteuffel, Die Bundesrepublik in der Ära Adenauer, pp. 36–46. For more on Jakob Kaiser’s interesting approach, see Kaiser, Wir haben Brücke zu sein. 29. Annan, Changing Enemies, p. 157. 30. Ibid., p. 225. 31. Brechtefeld, Mitteleuropa and German Politics, p. 64. 32. Paterson, “The Chancellor and Foreign Policy,” p. 127. 33. Robert Schuman, Official Statement from the French Foreign Ministry, May 9, 1950, cited in Diebold, The Schuman Plan, p. 1. Although the plan was named for the French foreign minister Robert Schuman, it reflected

WEST GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY, 1945–1980

51

the ideas of Jean Monnet, whose efforts at promoting economic integration after the war led to the later development of the European Community. 34. William Paterson, “The Chancellor and Foreign Policy,” p. 143. 35. Keesing’s Contemporary Archives 8, no. 2, 1950–1952, pp. 12 and 257. 36. Dean Acheson, for instance, believed it might be useful to hold talks with the Soviets on the issue, at least to force their hand. Adenauer believed it would destabilize his tactic of integrating into the West. See Steiniger, “The German Question,” p. 13. 37. Hiscocks, The Adenauer Era, pp. 260–263. For Adenauer’s own thoughts, see Adenauer, Erinnerungen, pp. 65–130. 38. For details on the Saar dispute, see Freymond, The Saar Conflict, 1945–1955. 39. Pommerin, “The United States and the Armament of the Federal Republic of Germany,” p. 19. 40. Doering-Manteuffel, Die Bundesrepublik in der Ära Adenauer, p. 55. 41. Pommerin, “The United States and the Armament of the Federal Republic of Germany,” p. 24. 42. Hiscocks, The Adenauer Era, pp. 78–80. 43. Pommerin, “The United States and the Armament of the Federal Republic of Germany,” pp. 26–29. 44. Kay, NATO and the Future of European Security, p. 55. 45. See Drummond, The German Social Democrats in Opposition, 1949–1960. 46. Cooper, Paradoxes of Peace, p. 55. 47. Kistler, Bundesdeutsche Geschichte, p. 127. 48. Cooper, Paradoxes of Peace, p. 40. 49. Keesing’s Contemporary Archives 9, no. 2, 1954, p. 13772. 50. Banchoff, The German Problem Transformed, pp. 52–53. 51. “Nicht im Grundgesetz,” Der Spiegel, February 13, 1952, p. 6. 52. For a full description, see von Baudissin, “The New German Army.” 53. “Wehrpflicht: Argwöhn, Furcht, Verbitterung,” Der Spiegel, January 30, 1952, p. 5. 54. Mommsen, “Nationalismus and transnationale Integrationsprozesse in der Gegenwart,” pp. 3–14. 55. Hacke, “Die CDU und die Deutsche Frage,” p. 91. 56. Hardach, Contemporary Economies, p. 221. 57. Cooper, Paradoxes of Peace, pp. 71–72. 58. Ibid., p. 28. 59. Officially, the treaties of Rome set up three communities: Euratom, the European Economic Community (EEC), and the continuing ECSC. In 1967, when the first round of integration was complete, the three were merged into the European Community (EC). After the 1991 agreement at Maastricht setting up the move to a common currency and monetary policy, the name was changed yet again, this time to the European Union (EU). To avoid confusion I

52

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

use the term “European Community” to refer to the pre-1991 organization, and “European Union” for post-1991. 60. For a good early account of integration theory, see Haas, Beyond the Nation-State. 61. Sani and Sartori, “Polarization, Fragmentation, and Competition in Western Democracies,” p. 331. 62. Cooper, Paradoxes of Peace, p. 61. 63. Orlow, “Ambivalence and Attraction,” pp. 43–44. 64. Ibid., p. 44. 65. “Tweedlewilly and Tweedleludwig,” The Economist, September 18, 1965, pp. 1082–1085. 66. Craig, “Konrad Adenauer and the United States,” pp. 8–10. 67. Before the Berlin Wall was built, East German leadership continually tried to find ways to ensure that East Berliners would be satisfied with life on their side of the city. This included following them to the Western section and watching which movies they preferred and where they shopped, hoping to use that information to improve their own options. The construction of the Wall made such an emphasis on keeping the people happy unnecessary. 68. Kennedy is often chided for his grammar, with the myth being that he should have left out the indefinite article “ein,” making it sound like he was calling himself a Berliner pastry, or a jelly donut. In fact, Kennedy’s grammar was correct. In German, to express solidarity with a group one must use the indefinite article; if Kennedy had left it out he would be saying he was literally a native of Berlin. See Jürgen Eichhoff, “‘Ich bin ein Berliner’: A History and Linguistic Clarification,” Monatshefte für den deutschen Unterricht, deutsche Sprace und Kultur 85, no. 1 (spring 1993): 71–80. 69. This is not to deny the nationalism of De Gaulle or to claim that Adenauer and De Gaulle had the exact same agendas for European cooperation. On the other hand, their Catholic backgrounds and basic conservatism did give them a lot in common. 70. Hanrieder, West German Foreign Policy 1949–1963, p. 207. 71. Andreani, “The Franco-German Relationship in a New Europe.” 72. Hanrieder, Germany, America, and Europe, pp. 86–87. 73. In 1958, the year in which Charles De Gaulle became president of the new Fifth Republic of France, Adenauer even suggested that Germany should possess nuclear weapons (Hanrieder, West German Foreign Policy 1949–1963, p. 206). 74. McGeorge Bundy, “Building the Atlantic Partnership: Some Lessons from the Past,” Department of State Bulletin, September 27, 1962, pp. 604–605. 75. Dean Rusk, “News Conference on December 10, 1962,” Department of State Bulletin, December 31, 1962, p. 995. 76. De Gaulle, Major Addresses, Statements and Press Conferences of General Charles De Gaulle, p. 216. 77. Deporte, Europe Between the Superpowers, p. 191. 78. Kelleher, Germany and the Politics of Nuclear Weapons, p. 252. 79. Strauss argued in 1965 that the

WEST GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY, 1945–1980

malaise of the Western world could be resolved by a massive drive to achieve, step by step, a European political federation. A United States of Europe with its own nuclear deterrent under supranational control would form the second essential pillar of a Western defense community in alliance with the U.S.A. It would exercise a powerful attraction on those Eastern European countries now under Communist domination. Above all, it would provide the framework which would make possible the reunification of Germany and avoid all its latent dangers.

53

Cited in Pridham, “The European Policy of Franz Josef Strauss,” p. 316. 80. “Where Did We Go Wrong?” The Economist, May 4, 1968, p. 33. See also Carr, Helmut Schmidt, p. 106. 81. “Der Dritte Mann: Armee ohne Rückgrat,” Der Spiegel, December 9, 1968, pp. 35–44. 82. The Soviet Union was an obvious exception to this policy, an exception justified by the West Germans as necessary due to the status of the Soviet Union as a victor in World War II. 83. See Booz, Hallsteinzeit. 84. Brechtefeld, Mitteleuropa and German Politics, p. 66. 85. Ibid., p. 69. 86. Cooper, Paradoxes of Peace, p. 91. 87. Plock, East German and West German Relations and the Fall of the GDR, pp. 12–15. 88. Banchoff, The German Problem Transformed, p. 48. 89. Brechtefeld, Mitteleuropa and German Politics, p. 71. 90. The Christian Democrats gained 46.1 percent of the vote in 1969, with the SPD behind at 42.7 percent. Kiesinger even received a congratulatory phone call from President Nixon, as the CDU appeared to have won the election. Brandt was able to convince the FDP, which had received only 5.8 percent of the vote in its first election after losing power—down from past elections— to join him rather than the CDU in a coalition. 91. Brechtefeld, Mitteleuropa and German Politics, p. 68. 92. Cooper, Paradoxes of Peace, p. 94. 93. Brechtefeld, Mitteleuropa and German Politics, p. 69. 94. After the building of the Berlin Wall, Brandt (along with Egon Bahr) worked out agreements on relations between the two Berlins, convincing each that there was something to be gained by negotiating with the East Germans. Bahr was Brandt’s primary negotiator (Bahr, Zu meiner Zeit). 95. For examples, see Jahn and Rittberger, Die Ostpolitik der BRD; Griffith, The Ostpolitik of the Federal Republic of Germany; and Plock, The Basic Treaty and the Evolution of East-West German Relations. 96. Sarotte, Dealing with the Devil, p. 44. 97. A good summary of the Brandt years and its successes and problems can be found in Bracher, Jäger, and Link, Republik im Wandel 1969–1974. 98. Banchoff, The German Problem Transformed, p. 85. 99. In 1990, as negotiations for unification proceeded, Kohl was chided for his unwillingness to proclaim that any unified Germany would accept

54

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

Poland’s borders. That concern was symbolic; Kohl not only knew he would have to accept the borders, but the Moscow treaty made it impossible for even an enlarged Federal Republic of Germany to make any new territorial claims. 100. The CDU/CSU claimed that increased contacts amounted to de facto recognition of the German Democratic Republic and therefore threatened to render West Germany’s claim to represent all Germans illegitimate. They argued that unless they remained steadfast in rejecting relations with East Germany the Western allies would decide that German division was not necessarily something to overcome. 101. An excellent English language description of how the CDU/CSU came to join the consensus on Ostpolitik can be found in Clemens, Reluctant Realists. For a good description of the early years of Christian Democratic opposition, see Hacke, Die Ost- und Deutschlandpolitik der CDU/CSU. 102. After the disasters of the Weimar era, the constitution of the FRG stipulates that a government can only be removed through a constructive vote of no confidence—a new chancellor has to be voted for, rather than just the old one voted against. This succeeded only once, in October 1982, when Helmut Kohl ousted Helmut Schmidt. Even then it was a very controversial act, and Kohl felt he needed elections in March 1983 to legitimize the change of power. 103. De Gaulle also boycotted the European Community for a time, arguing that all states should have veto power over any action, an attempt to assert the supremacy of sovereignty. This, alongside the French withdrawal from NATO, reflected De Gaulle’s annoyance at the way European politics was evolving. 104. Hanrieder, Germany, America, and Europe, pp. 91–95. 105. Pinder, European Community, p. 132. 106. Urwin, The Community of Europe, p. 139. 107. Sarotte, Dealing with the Devil, p. 174. 108. Plock, East German and West German Relations and the Fall of the GDR, p. 23.

Three Missiles and Protests: The Early 1980s

rockets in the 1970s, West German chancellor Helmut Schmidt (SPD) promoted the idea of what would come to be known as the dual-track decision: NATO should negotiate with the Soviets to have the SS-20s removed, but at the same time would be ready to install Pershing II and cruise missiles as a balance should negotiations be unsuccessful. In doing so, Schmidt reopened the national debate on foreign policy and exposed domestic political tensions. The result was a wave of protest and an outpouring of antimilitary feelings that went beyond even the debate over rearmament. A new political party, “the Greens,” a mixed bag including radical leftists with communist sympathies, pacifists, and environmentalists, emerged to embody a sense of disenchantment with the politics of both the SPD and the CDU. Germany’s public reaction looked dangerous to outsiders; the premise for the U.S. film Red Dawn, an early 1980s Cold War standard that found the Soviets conquering the United States, was first that the Greens took power in West Germany, decimating the alliance. More reasoned voices in the West remembered the historical German position of straddling East and West, and wondered if this was a start of a German move toward neutrality and a more Eastward orientation. Inside Germany there were fears that the political consensus developed after World War II might itself collapse and bring instability. At the time, few seriously considered this a healthy episode in a country with a foreign policy based on a stable and effective set of beliefs and principles. In hindsight, 1980 and the rise of the missile controversy represents the point where German foreign policy “grew up” and WHEN THE SOVIETS MODERNIZED THEIR MISSILE SYSTEM WITH SS-20

55

56

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

exhibited the resiliency of West Germany’s post-sovereign foreign policy identity. The Dual-Track Decision

Chancellor Helmut Schmidt ran a successful election campaign in 1976 with the slogan Modell Deutschland, meaning the “German model.” Germany’s economy was outperforming most others in difficult times, and the SPD had forged a stable ruling coalition with the Free Democrats. Confident he could handle the potential dilemmas involved in pursuing Ostpolitik while maintaining concern for the Soviet threat, Schmidt forced the Carter administration to deal with the nuclear balance of power in Europe. Of concern to Schmidt and other Europeans were intermediate nuclear weapons, or weapons with a range of 500 to 5,500 kilometers (300 to 3,300 miles). With strategic weapons (longrange or intercontinental nuclear missiles) canceling each other out due to mutual assured destruction, the key for deterring a nuclear war would be if the Soviets believed that the West could launch an effective assault from Europe. 1 The Soviets were modernizing their force with new medium-range SS-20 missiles, suggesting that the Western intermediate nuclear force needed to be upgraded in order to maintain its deterrent value. As early as 1977 Schmidt started pressuring the United States to modernize the intermediate nuclear force, and on December 12, 1979, NATO agreed to the dual-track decision, whereby NATO would deploy Pershing II and cruise missiles in Europe, though at the same time it would try to negotiate with the Soviets to reduce the overall level of intermediate nuclear weapons. About a third of the more than 550 new missiles would be deployed in Germany. If such a decision had been made in the days of détente, it may not have created the kind of reaction that developed in Germany. Absent significant fear of a real armed conflict emerging in Europe from the Cold War, the issue might not have captured the public imagination, and a negotiated settlement with the Soviet Union would have been possible. Certainly while Schmidt was arguing for NATO action in 1978, it appeared that it was a rational, manageable step in maintaining the deterrence regime in Europe. But in 1979 the world changed. In January the Shah of Iran fell, and suddenly the top U.S. ally in the Persian Gulf, the largest military power among the oil states of the Middle East, became an enemy. The Carter administration feared that this could lead

MISSILES AND PROTESTS: THE EARLY 1980s

57

to the spread of Islamic fundamentalism in the Middle East, potentially choking off oil supplies and severely damaging the Western economy. Then, at the end of the year, just two weeks after the dual-track decision was reached, the Soviet Union invaded Afghanistan. Although it was an act the Soviets thought would assure stability on the southern border of the USSR, the Carter administration entertained the more ominous possibility that the Soviets were ready to strike Iran and potentially use their position in the Gulf to threaten Western oil supplies. On January 23, 1980, President Carter announced the “Carter doctrine,” stating that the Persian Gulf was of vital national interest to the United States. All of this sparked fears of a potential conflict with the Soviet Union, and gave intermediate missile modernization new meaning. In November 1980, Ronald Reagan defeated Jimmy Carter to become president of the United States. To many Germans, especially those on the left, Reagan appeared to be a trigger-happy cowboy who yearned to fight the Soviets. Though Americans feared nuclear war during the Cold War era, the possibility seemed much more real in Germany. Germans constantly saw NATO troops and tanks on maneuvers, and the area near the “Fulda gap” was seen as a likely Warsaw Pact attack route should war break out. With the Reagan administration’s talk about “winnable nuclear wars” and being able to fight a “limited” nuclear war, many Germans— and not just those on the left—became concerned. Voices in the U.S. administration were talking about a protracted war that could be extremely bloody, noting that the early 1980s was no longer a “postwar” but actually a “pre-war” era.2 In Germany people realized that regardless of how “limited” a nuclear war might be, Germans both East and West were on the front line, and no matter the result of the larger conflict, Germany would be left in ruins. After a 1977 press leak that the United States was considering a strategy that would sacrifice a large section of West German territory in case of a war in order to concentrate defenses on the Weser and Lech Rivers, some wondered if the United States was really committed to defend Germany, despite U.S. assurances that it did not want to sacrifice any German territory.3 Missile modernization, coming during a time of renewed East-West tension, thus became a symbol of the possibility of a nuclear confrontation between NATO and the Warsaw Pact. Opposition began as soon as the dual-track decision was made, and grew in the early 1980s in Schmidt’s own Social Democratic party. At the same time, people with more radical ideas, dismayed by the Social Democrats’ centrism and

58

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

emphasis on economic growth over environmental concerns, formed the Greens (Die Grünen), which espoused an antigrowth, anti-NATO, pacifist form of environmentalism. 4 Many Greens came from the peace movement, which had been gaining steam in Germany since the late 1960s and had recently been mobilized by the 1977 neutron bomb controversy. President Carter’s plans to deploy the neutron bomb, which would kill people but do minimal damage to property, aroused furor in Germany, and Schmidt took a long time to grudgingly accept it—just weeks before Carter himself dropped the plan.5 The Greens envisioned Germany as part of a Mitteleuropa that would be a confederation of neutral states.6 They rejected the agendas of both superpowers. Not only did the Greens want a nuclear-free Europe with Germany out of NATO, but they also supported anticommunist movements in Eastern Europe, such as Solidarity in Poland and Charta 77 in Czechoslovakia.7 Within the SPD, reaction to the missile modernization plan was also negative. Herbert Wehner, an icon of the Social Democratic party and one of the architects of the shift in policy at the 1959 Bad Godesberg conference, complained that missile deployment would turn West Germany into a kind of “stationary aircraft carrier.”8 Also opposed to Schmidt’s plans were the Socialist Youth (Jusos), led by the young and ambitious Gerhard Schröder who argued in 1979 that the Soviets could not really threaten Germany with the SS-20s.9 The missile modernization plan awakened the German peace movement that had been dormant throughout most of the 1970s as Social Democratic leadership and the promise of Ostpolitik and détente had convinced Germans war was unlikely. The missile controversy was reminiscent of the 1950s debates and protests over the stationing of nuclear weapons, except that the 1980s opposition was more vocal and broad.10 This reaction to missile modernization, especially within the SPD itself, surprised the chancellor. He remarked that “these young men have no understanding of world politics,” and degraded the “new German pacifists” as “infantile.”11 Reacting to the growing East-West tensions, Schmidt said that Germany would work to keep the superpowers talking, using its geographical position and advanced relations with East Germany to play a mediating role.12 Schmidt was given little help by the Reagan administration. Originally the U.S. bargaining position was the “zero option,” wherein NATO would cancel its deployments in exchange for Soviet agreement to eliminate SS-20, SS-4, and SS-5 missiles from Europe. Though the Soviets agreed to freeze their

MISSILES AND PROTESTS: THE EARLY 1980s

59

deployment levels if no U.S. missiles were deployed, negotiations found little common ground between the two sides. The only glimmer of hope was the potential “walk in the woods” compromise on intermediate nuclear missile levels reached by Paul Nitze and his Soviet counterpart Juri Kvitsinsky in a private conversation during a break from official negotiations. The Reagan administration rejected this idea, convincing many that Reagan did not want any kind of deal, though the Soviets also officially rejected the potential agreement. Compromises that could have helped avoid or limit missile deployment did not seem to be seriously considered. Schmidt was extremely critical of the Reagan administration and did not believe it wanted real arms control, but he was stuck having to support the U.S. position since the United States would shape how the dual-track decision would be implemented.13 The resulting controversy tore the party apart. Members of the SPD questioned whether the stationing of missiles was even constitutional, as Article 26 of the German constitution stated that there could be no preparation for offensive warfare in Germany, and arguably nuclear missiles that could hit the Soviet Union were not purely defensive.14 Helmut Schmidt stressed the need to show solidarity with the United States and was embarrassed by the strength of the U.S. nuclear freeze movement, something other Social Democrats pointed to as a sign that it would not be “anti-American” to reject missile deployment, especially from the Reagan administration, which appeared bent on pursuing an adversarial relationship with Russia.15 In June 1982 Ronald Reagan visited Germany and was met by organized protests and obvious public disapproval for the course of U.S. policy. By the end of the summer, protests were spreading, with NATO bases being blockaded by peace movement activists, the Greens growing in strength, and Schmidt increasingly isolated within his own party.16 The chaos in the SPD lead to the breakup of the social-liberal coalition in October 1982, when the Free Democrats decided that conflict between the Social Democrats (as well as concerns about the economy) made an effective partnership impossible. By November 1983, delegates to an SPD party conference would vote 389–5 against stationing the missiles, with Helmut Schmidt one of the five still supporting it.17 New Social Democrat rising stars included Oskar Lafontaine, who spoke for many in the party with his 1983 book Angst vor den Freunden (Fear of our Friends), in which he argued that NATO was obsolete and a new strategy was needed.18 The double consensus appeared on the verge of breaking down. The

60

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

consensus had been broad, but not deep, especially when German antimilitarism and concerns about a possible nuclear war became salient. In dealing with this apparent crisis, and the risk of a breakdown of the basic understandings of postwar West German policy, Kohl discovered there was one way to maintain the balance: to emphasize cooperation and multilateralism. A deepening of Germany’s post-sovereign foreign policy identity would allow Kohl to overcome the challenge missile modernization posed. When the new CDU/CSU/FDP coalition under Helmut Kohl took office on October 1, 1982, it continued support of the dual-track decision and deployment of Pershing II and cruise missiles in West Germany. This led to an outpouring of protest and emotion remarkable in its scope and societal breadth. Unlike 1968, which found students from California to Paris to Bonn protesting, this time Germans were virtually alone in their level of activity.19 The government tried in late 1982 and early 1983 to dissuade the protesters by arresting them en masse and fining them hundreds of marks when they did things such as block U.S. bases, but the efforts were to no avail.20 By the summer of 1983, when installation of the Pershing missiles was announced for that fall, the peace movement was mounting a major protest campaign. They received support from the German Federation of Unions (DGB) and the Public Transportation Union (ÖTV), whose leaders Ernst Breit and Monika Wulf-Mathies called for worker participation in the demonstrations around the country, though they refused to call for a general strike. Even the press seemed to support the peace movement challenge, as Der Spiegel editorials by Rudolf Augstein amounted to a campaign against missile deployment.21 In academia, state-funded peace research projects, started in the late 1960s and early 1970s with the goal of investigating alternatives to militarism to solve disputes, gave the peace movement a variety of experts who would argue against missile modernization not just with emotional appeals but with alternate models and theories of how best to deal with Cold War disputes.22 Estimates that summer were that 3 million people were in some way active in the peace movement, and polls showed that Germans opposed the stationing of missiles by a margin of 70–30. Even among CDU/CSU supporters, 60 percent opposed installing the Pershings.23 Under the banner of nonviolent civil disobedience, the peace movement, buoyed by such support, confidently went into battle with the new Kohl government, culminating with a march of 500,000 on Bonn in October. Throughout Germany that week over 1 million demonstrators

MISSILES AND PROTESTS: THE EARLY 1980s

61

in four cities protested, and a human chain linking 400,000 expressed solidarity against missile deployment.24 At that point, public opposition to the stationing of the Pershing and cruise missiles had grown to 74 percent and represented a direct challenge to Kohl’s ability to lead his country. When Helmut Kohl took office he was not the political giant he would become; most Germans considered him rather unintelligent compared to the urbane economist Helmut Schmidt, and many believed he was not up to the job. Stating clearly that deployment of the missiles would take place, Kohl made the issue the first real test of the new chancellor’s leadership. The Kohl government responded to critics of the missile deployment by arguing that it was impossible for Germany to refuse to deploy the missiles without betraying the alliance. Kohl appealed to NATO loyalty and Western values, as well as to the importance of deterring the Soviet Union. By doing so, he used the logic that defined German foreign policy, that of institutionalism, multilateralism, and identification with Western values. Germany was part of an institution (NATO) that entailed responsibilities to the alliance partners. This was a matter not just of national interest, but of honor and trustworthiness. Unlike Reagan, Kohl did not concentrate on painting the Soviet Union as a threat but stressed instead Germany’s need to be a loyal member of the Western alliance. Kohl’s argument did not convince the protesters, but it resonated with a public that, despite a dislike of the policies of the new U.S. president, did not want Germany to thumb its nose at the alliance. On November 22, 1983, the Bundestag approved the missile deployment, and as soon as the missiles were installed as planned, support for the peace movement died out.25 The pace at which the mass movement lost steam surprised almost everyone. At first glance, this appears a victory for Atlanticism and the U.S. position that the Soviet Union had to be countered aggressively. By all accounts, Helmut Kohl was developing a warm relationship with President Reagan, and U.S.-German relations appeared much better than the rocky relationship Schmidt had with both Carter and Reagan. On closer examination, Kohl had managed to shore up the double consensus with the kind of political acuity that would define his style. Rather than following the U.S. model and choosing the missiles over Ostpolitik, he found a way to combine both. The Kohl government mixed acceptance of the missiles with a continuation of the policies of Ostpolitik, rejecting in substance the U.S. emphasis on confrontation, even while rhetorically pledging solidarity with the U.S. cause. This

62

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

emphasis on improving relations with the East allowed most Germans to feel confident that the missiles did not greatly increase the chance of war. Important in this effort was the role of Hans Dietrich Genscher, FDP foreign minister since 1974, who retained that role under Kohl after having engineered the coalition switch in 1982. Genscher was seen as a stabilizing force and a true believer in better relations with the East, helping convince many Germans skeptical of Kohl that foreign policy was in good hands. In the early days of Kohl’s administration, Genscher had considerable power to shape the foreign policy choices, though Kohl would in time come to dominate.26 Rather than abandoning Ostpolitik and joining in Reagan’s new Cold War, the Kohl government expanded contacts with the East. 27 Hardcore conservatives such as Franz Josef Strauss became converts to Ostpolitik, arranging business deals and loans to the East German government. 28 In July 1983 Strauss announced that he had helped put together a 1 billion DM ($380 million) credit to East Germany, stunning the right wing of his own Bavarian party. A year later (July 1984), he would help guarantee another loan of equal value.29 Kohl worked as well to offer loans and make deals with the East Germans, creating arrangements that increased visits and legal migration from the East to the West. In 1984 East Germany would allow 45,000 to leave the country, often in exchange for some kind of payment from West Germany.30 This amounted to an island of détente in a Cold War–dominated world, irritating both Moscow and Washington. Moscow expressed its annoyance by canceling a planned trip by East German leader Erich Honecker to West Germany in 1984, believing that it would be an inappropriate reward to Kohl after he allowed missile modernization. In their rhetoric, Kohl and the CDU connected peace and freedom, persuasively arguing that the two concepts were bound and should not be separated.31 This allowed the Christian Democrats to argue that maintaining freedom through a strong deterrent made it easier to work to build peaceful relations with the East. Also telling is that despite the turbulence, the NATO alliance in general was widely supported by the German people, wavering little in the 1980s and reaching 80 percent support by 1989. Opposition to missile modernization was not rejection of NATO.32 One reason the SPD did not do well in elections is that their skepticism about NATO policy was a step away from the consensus on Westpolitik. As hesitant as Germans were to accept missile modernization, they did not want to question the viability and necessity of a strong NATO alliance.

MISSILES AND PROTESTS: THE EARLY 1980s

63

The lack of resiliency for the peace movement reflects the fact that while the movement itself was, as David Gress notes, driven by “utopianism, anti-authoritarianism, and a political moralism derived from the political ideas of liberation and autonomy,” most of the public did not share those views. Opposition to missile deployment reflected fear that Germany was supporting the kind of Cold War policies the Reagan administration was pursuing.33 Once it became clear that was not the case, the depth of opposition to missile deployment evaporated. Conservatives accepted the missiles while at the same time criticizing Germany’s position as a potential superpower battleground. Alfred Dregger (CDU) summed up this attitude with the phrase “the shorter the range, the deader the Germans.”34 The missiles were accepted, but Cold War II (the period of increased East-West tension from 1979–1985) was not. Despite continued chills in East-West relations, intra-German relations improved during the 1980s, culminating in a visit by East German leader Erich Honecker to the FRG in 1987.35 Theo Sommer, in the popular left of center newsweekly Die Zeit, discussed the symbolic implications of the visit in detail, and the SPD’s top specialist on East Germany, Wilhelm Bruns, echoed the idea that the GDR was the FRG’s equal on the international scene.36 In short, just as the SPD accepted integration in the West, the CDU accepted Ostpolitik. While the Pershing issue exposed the contradiction between German policy goals and cultural attitudes toward military conflict, the policy of Ostpolitik continued to assuage German fears of a potential conflict. By continuing a multilateralist policy logic that emphasized building cooperative institutions with both the East and West, Germans could maintain a societal consensus behind a policy that might at times annoy, but not threaten, the superpowers. Franco-German Economic Cooperation and the EC

Although the missile controversy dominated headlines in the1980s, the development of Franco-German cooperation on economic and then security matters created conditions that would reshape Europe. In the early 1980s, however, things seemed on the verge of breakdown in the European Community. In 1973, Great Britain, Denmark, and Ireland joined the EC, making it a nine-member community. That same year the oil crisis and monetary instability in the wake of the collapse of the Bretton Woods system created problems for the community. From 1973

64

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

on, the European Community had been in a funk, and by the early 1980s talk of “Eurosclerosis” and even collapse of the EC could be heard. A number of things had happened to put Europe in a bind. Britain’s membership, welcome as it was, brought a state with a very small agricultural sector into a community where the largest part of the budget was the common agriculture policy (CAP), built on subsidies to farmers (well over 60 percent of the EC budget at the time). This meant Britain’s net payment to the EC was considerably higher than the others’, something Margaret Thatcher, who became prime minister in 1979, was determined to change. The plans for European monetary union had been washed away by the collapse of the Bretton Woods system and subsequent energy crisis in 1973, with France and Italy pursuing inflationary monetary policies while Germany and the Netherlands focused on keeping inflation low. Despite the gains from free trade, the continent was rife with divergent economic and political policies. In the 1970s Chancellor Helmut Schmidt, who had replaced fellow Social Democrat Willy Brandt in 1974, worked closely with French president Valery Giscard d’Estaing to maintain progress on building cooperative ventures and to keep European integration alive.37 The two were both former finance ministers with a nose for economics. Schmidt’s focus was on what would later become known as globalization—interdependence of states in the world economy and the need of the domestic economy to reflect and react to external conditions. 38 Their most important success came in 1978, when they convinced the European Council to embrace a new European Monetary System (EMS). 39 European Commission president Roy Jenkins, a former finance minister in Great Britain, called for a European Monetary Union in a speech in 1977, arguing that this would be the only way to help bring the economies of Europe to a healthy state. For Helmut Schmidt, who had been thinking along similar lines, Jenkins’s speech created an opportunity for action. Schmidt was angry that the United States was pursuing a “weak dollar” policy, making it more difficult for German exporters, as the deutschmark was driven higher in currency markets. He did little to hide his contempt for the lack of understanding of economics shown by U.S. president Jimmy Carter.40 The best solution would be to tie the deutschmark to other European currencies to stabilize it against the dollar. For Giscard, this meant the potential to move France to a course of more fiscal discipline in order to maintain the EMS, and to have a leadership role in the European economy. The French had wanted fixed exchange rates, but

MISSILES AND PROTESTS: THE EARLY 1980s

65

recognizing that divergent monetary policies would make that difficult to maintain, Germany insisted on managed floating exchange rates.41 The EMS came into operation in March 1979 and was to be the first step in what Giscard and Schmidt envisioned would lead to a common monetary policy, common currency, and a European central bank. These were the stuff of fantasy in 1979. Even attempting monetary cooperation had been seen as a long shot. This victory, which started a process that would eventually lead to the Maastricht agreement, was wobbly at first. The EMS had an exchange rate mechanism (ERM) that allowed currencies to float within a range of 2.25 percent from their starting point, which was based on the European Currency Unit (ECU), an accounting unit reflecting the value of all EC currencies weighted by the size of the economy. Italy, Great Britain, and later Spain each had a 6.0 percent fluctuation range due to their special circumstances. Not every state joined the ERM, and revaluations were common, as the monetary policies of the various states diverged dramatically. Germany and the Netherlands were stalwarts against inflation and kept the money supply tight, while France and Italy tended to accept expanding the money supply in order to assure employment, leading to inflation and devaluation of their currencies. Initially, the euphoria from the initiation of the EMS gave way to fears that it could not function. From 1979 to 1983 exchange rate values were adjusted seven times, making it seem like a pointless exercise. After being elected president of France in 1981, François Mitterrand took a hard left turn in policy, leading to inflation and capital flight. In 1983 his volte-face shifted French policies to ones of deflation and stability, making it easier for Germany to improve economic cooperation with France.42 Adjustments became less frequent after 1983, and exchange rates less volatile. Germany supported the French effort to stabilize its economy. In March 1983, Germany agreed to a 5.5 percent revaluation of the deutschmark, while France only had to devalue its franc by 2.5 percent. However, in exchange for Germany bearing more of the revaluation cost, France promised to pursue fiscal discipline.43 Without intense Franco-German cooperation, it is unlikely that the economies of Europe would have been in a position to achieve real monetary union by 1999. Schmidt and Giscard established a rapport that in many ways seemed contrary to the supranationalism and federalism that institutionalists preferred in the EC. They launched their idea of the EMS at a summit meeting of the European Council and used one-on-one persua-

66

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

sion to convince other heads of government to go along with the plan. This intergovernmentalism contradicted the desire of most integrationists to see supranational decisionmaking supersede cooperation between states, and it appeared to many as something more akin to De Gaulle’s Europe des patries than Monnet’s idea of a United States of Europe. Schmidt and Giscard both considered national interests to be part of the deliberation, and they approached the issue as one of trying to achieve agreement between sovereign states. What the integrationists missed was that this was the only way to build the institutions that would be necessary to create a unified Europe. National politicians would never simply give in to the demands from the European Commission or the European Parliament (which after 1979 would be directly elected rather than appointed). But Giscard and Schmidt each had a goal of building a stable, workable institution that would last beyond this initial negotiation, something that the success of the EMS would convince even the hardcore supranationalists by the late 1980s. Concern for national interests is not a sign that a country is pursuing a realist policy; nor is it the opposite of a multilateralist integrative policy. Schmidt’s policies also reflected Germany’s willingness to use its position as a powerful economic actor to advance policies in Europe and even to pressure the United States. Modell Deutschland was something that could be put to good use, and since it was economic rather than military, it would avoid arousing the same kinds of concerns that an independent German foreign policy on security affairs would create. When Schmidt left office in late 1982, Helmut Kohl, while lacking Schmidt’s sophistication on economic issues, would prove a devout and stubborn Europeanist, determined to see Germany fulfill a role in bringing Europe together, even to the point of sacrificing some German interests. Kohl and Genscher had two goals: stabilize monetary and economic cooperation while advancing on the goals of political union and true integration. But before progress could be made, the persistent budgetary problems within the EC had to be solved. Foremost was British prime minister Margaret Thatcher’s demand that Britain not have to pay more than its fair share of EC expenses. In 1980 Germany paid 30.1 percent of the EC budget while receiving only 23.5 percent back in payments. For Great Britain the ratio was even worse, as it got only 8.7 percent of the receipts while paying 20.5 percent of the budget.44 This discrepancy clearly shows the different attitudes to European integration in Britain and Germany; for the British,

MISSILES AND PROTESTS: THE EARLY 1980s

67

the issue was to pursue British interests within the EC context; for Germany, sacrifice of short-term interests to build a stronger European Community was most important, though not at the expense of a complete sacrifice of German short-term interests. Germany had accepted the cost as the price of an integration it saw as necessary for Europe, though as late as 1981 Schmidt resisted the plan put forth by his own foreign minister, Genscher, and Italy’s foreign minister, Columbo, to move ahead on political integration, due in large part to concerns that Germany would remain the Milchkuh (pay master) of Europe. Thatcher was more adamant, threatening to leave the EC if the situation was not resolved. In 1984 at the European Council Summit at Fontainebleau, an agreement was hammered out whereby the British would get a rebate from their net contribution in order to offset the imbalance. The rebate, originally agreed to in 1983, was mired in disagreement in early 1984. The Italians and the French refused to pay their share of the rebate costs, and Kohl said Germany would not make up the difference, which was set to reduce Britain’s share of CAP costs by over 60 percent. Frustration over the British demands and Thatcher’s personality led many to think that the EC should be divided between fast- and slowtrack states, with Britain losing status within the community. 45 At Fontainebleau the leaders stepped back from the crisis; Mitterrand and Kohl each agreed to make up much of the revenue lost in the rebate, and the agreement led to a collective sigh of relief from those fearing disaster for the EC. As this was primarily a settlement for Britain, it did not address Germany’s budgetary concerns, but it did put aside a crisis that had threatened to rip the EC apart. The surprising successes in building the European Union cannot be separated from the care Germany and France took to preserve the European Community and build institutional economic and political arrangements in the troubled times of the late 1970s and early 1980s when it appeared progress on a European political identity had stalled. Germany’s commitment to European integration was deep, and rooted in more than national self-interest. As Helmut Kohl stated in 1984, “Who is prepared to follow us on the way to European union with the stated objective of a United States of Europe?”46 Even as the acrimonious debate about the British rebate raged, the Fontainebleau summit started work on the project of creating a true single market, something that Margaret Thatcher accepted on free market grounds and the others thought necessary to enhance the economic efficacy of the EC. These

68

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

discussions yielded the first steps of what would be a dramatic move forward in the integration process in the coming years.47 German experiences in the EC in the 1970s and early 1980s demonstrate that despite the focus on multilateralism and institutionalized cooperation, German policy was not one of simple altruism. Germany pursued its goals and interests, sometimes in hard-nosed fashion, while taking the multilateralist path. If Germany had chosen an altruist course out of a moral imperative simply to cooperate and work with other states to pursue common goals, rejecting any consideration of direct self-interest, it is unlikely that the public would have accepted the path, and certainly multilateralism would have been hard pressed to survive after Germany gained full sovereignty. Within institutions Germans could exercise “soft power,” bargaining and negotiating over issues, with recognition that German economic clout provided leverage. The use of soft power, however, starts with an assumption that everyone involved is committed to finding a cooperative solution, rather than looking at every issue as a clash between rivals. It is the alternative to an untenable altruism on the one hand, and a blunt pursuit of myopic national interest on the other. This employment of soft power is in line with liberal institutionalist theory, which claims that multilateralism and institutional cooperation make it easier to pursue self-interest, even if they require compromise and an occasional sacrifice of short-term national interest. Germany could accept paying a higher portion of the EC budget in order to gain the short- and long-term benefits of the EMS and other EC institutions. In an interdependent world where economic cooperation benefits all, an ability to pursue interests in an institutional setting requiring compromises ultimately leads to better results than acting solely out of short-term, myopic self-interest. That is why German policy has been stable and effective. Franco-German Security Cooperation

Though the missile controversy and the Christian Democratic acceptance of Ostpolitik dominated the foreign policy debates of the early 1980s, other strains in the NATO relationship existed that created potential challenges for German foreign policy. As the Reagan administration pursued a more confrontational approach to the Soviet Union, the French and Germans moved toward greater cooperation on economic and military issues. The foundation for their collaboration was the

MISSILES AND PROTESTS: THE EARLY 1980s

69

changes in the political environment in Europe in the early 1980s. When the decade began, the Soviets were on the move in Afghanistan, the United States was bogged down in a hostage crisis with Iran, the world economy was sliding downward due to an oil crisis caused by the Iraq-Iran war, and in Poland the labor union “Solidarity” was standing up to the Communist government and spreading protests that potentially could disrupt the Eastern bloc. Schmidt tried to balance German policy by continuing to work with East Germany and Eastern Europe to improve relations while at the same time siding with the United States on all major issues, including a difficult decision to boycott the 1980 Olympic Games in Moscow. The year 1981 was especially troublesome for Schmidt, as he tried to satisfy the various wings of his party, fend off the Christian Democrats who were starting to smell blood, and keep Ostpolitik alive as the Soviets and Americans entered the post-détente phase of their relationship that became known as “Cold War II.” Schmidt’s navigation of the choppy environment was deft, but he could satisfy neither the superpowers nor his domestic audience. In 1981 Soviet leader Leonid Brezhnev visited West Germany, meeting with Schmidt at a time when tensions in Poland were rising. A month later, on December 12, 1981, the Lech Walesa–led Solidarity movement in Poland was crushed as Polish general Woijciech Jaruzelski clamped down on his country with martial law, no doubt necessitated by Soviet pressure. At the time, Schmidt was in East Germany for talks with Erich Honecker on intra-German relations, a trip he refused to cut short, leading to heavy criticism from the Christian Democrats. The reaction in the United States to events in Poland was severe. Even before that, the Reagan administration had been ratcheting up the war against communism in Nicaragua and El Salvador, and significantly increasing the amount of aid to Afghan rebels trying to displace the pro-Soviet government. Martial law in Poland convinced the United States that the West had to cease cooperation with the Soviets until they changed their policies. This went much farther than the Europeans wanted to go and helped inspire more foreign policy congruence between the Germans and French. The thing that irked Schmidt and new French president Mitterrand was a U.S. call for the Europeans to suspend a project to build a natural gas pipeline from Siberia. The contracts had already been signed and the deal was underway, an effort seen in Europe as an important way both to build interdependence between East and West and to lower energy costs in the wake of recent oil shocks.48 The Europeans, including

70

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

even hawkish Margaret Thatcher, refused to accept the demand, and the United States went so far as to rule that subsidiaries of U.S. firms operating in Europe could not participate in the pipeline project, even to fulfill existing contracts. Such a requirement would have violated many European laws and perhaps run afoul of international law, arousing further intra-NATO tension. Schmidt and later Kohl remained adamant; they could not adhere to the U.S. demands. The tension over this issue helped cast a pall on alliance relations in 1982, as it was clear the Europeans were not as eager as the Americans to confront the Soviets on all fronts. In November 1982 the United States finally dropped its demands on the pipeline issue, though many in the Reagan administration were miffed at the European reaction.49 The divergence of interests between the United States and Europe, as well as their different perceptions of the Soviet threat, led to questions about the future of NATO and whether the alliance could persist over the long run. The United States was not the only country creating difficulties within NATO. In early 1982 the British got into a war with Argentina over the Falklands, a small chain of British-controlled islands near the Argentinian coast. In December 1981 a new military government took power in Argentina and the leader, General Leopoldo Galtieri, perhaps trying to solidify his position, challenged the British on their right to continue ownership of what the Argentines referred to as the Malvinas. Germans found the idea of a NATO ally going to war to protect a colony discomforting. Using the European Political Cooperation network (begun in 1970 as an intergovernmental cooperative arrangement separate from EC institutions), the countries of the European Community agreed on sanctions against Argentina, an agreement that devolved into voluntary sanctions when Italy and Ireland questioned British policy. Germany managed to steer clear of major controversies, choosing instead to take the conflict as a sign that political cooperation, while on the right track with better communication and coordination between the member states of the EC, still needed to be enhanced. Perhaps remembering the importance his mentor Konrad Adenauer put on good relations with France, Helmut Kohl worked hard to develop a productive relationship with Mitterrand, beginning with a meeting in October 1982 directly after Kohl took power.50 The meeting had a dramatic result. The defense clauses of the 1963 Franco-German Friendship Treaty, which had been mostly ignored due to both Germany’s Atlanticist policy perspective and France leaving NATO, were revived. The two countries’ foreign and defense ministers would meet regularly,

MISSILES AND PROTESTS: THE EARLY 1980s

71

and working groups were set up to deal with political and military issues affecting the two countries. The next year, as the missile deployment controversy raged through Germany, Mitterrand made a historic visit to the Bundestag in Bonn to call for German support for missile deployment. He said that the issue should not “decouple” Europe from the United States, a powerful signal to the Germans that France was no longer following the Gaullist line of wanting to separate the United States from European security. That Mitterrand was a socialist was not lost on the German Left, either. Associating the missiles with Reagan was one thing; Mitterrand, however, was not seen by the Left as a dangerous reactionary. Mitterrand had been alarmed by the strength of the German peace movement and feared that if it were not checked Germany would choose a Sonderweg. 51 The peace movement contained within it a twinge of German nationalism and exceptionalism, expressed primarily as anti-Americanism, but which could potentially threaten Germany’s Westbindung.52 Mitterand recognized that Kohl came from the tradition of Adenauer, committed to Western integration and a strong relationship with France. Though Kohl was not invited to participate in the 1984 ceremonies in Normandy to celebrate the anniversary of D-Day, frustrating his desire to show how Germans had also been liberated by the allied invasion, Kohl and Mitterrand did share an emotional moment hand in hand at Verdun, in tribute to the fallen of World War I.53 By 1984 Kohl and Mitterrand were discussing revival of the old West European Union (WEU), whose creation had been meant to facilitate German rearmament, but which had been mostly ignored after NATO took over the job of planning and coordinating European defense. The French had failed in their effort to revive the WEU in 1973, as it had been then seen as a challenge to NATO. This time, Mitterrand stressed that it should be a complement to NATO and agreed to remove restrictions on German conventional armament. Perhaps most important symbolically, the two agreed to create a rapid reaction force of 47,000 troops to respond to crises.54 Cooperation between Kohl and Mitterrand, which built on economic cooperation between the previous leaders Giscard and Schmidt, is important because it represented the solution to a problem dogging German foreign policy since the early 1960s. How could Germany develop a close working relationship with France without embracing Gaullism or weakening the Atlantic alliance? The Kohl-Mitterrand approach reflects both a German desire to develop a stronger European

72

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

policy not tied to the United States and the French recognition that NATO and the Atlantic alliance was an essential part of European security arrangements. The solution was less a compromise between France and Germany than a reflection of how institutional arrangements in Europe were developing. Early Gaullism focused on France and Germany cooperating to counter the United States. At that time the French did not accept the idea of a strong European Community, especially one that could threaten sovereignty and develop deep institutional roots. The only place to confront U.S. dominance was in the realm of high politics—diplomacy and security policy. By 1982, the European Community, despite its problems, had evolved to embrace foreign policy cooperation (under the EPC), which worked to develop European positions on issues such as the Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe (CSCE), Israeli-Palestinian relations, and the Falklands crisis.55 These efforts created a European opening with promise, something both Germany and France considered useful. Since such cooperation did not necessarily duplicate or contradict NATO, Germany did not see building it as a threat to its Atlantic identity. However, Germany did keep options open should transatlantic relations weaken in the future. Those dilemmas minimized, France and Germany could develop closer ties and enhance European institutions. The path of institutional development led to a nascent European foreign policy and a way to deal with traditional French concerns without requiring that Germany choose between France and the United States. Western Interests and a Multilateralist Policy Logic

By the mid-1980s Germans had redefined their foreign policy interests from being an expansion of national power and prestige to being one of promoting Western values and cooperative institutional structures built on principles of democracy and markets. The economic success of the post–World War II era convinced Germans that market economies were synonymous with prosperity and that freedom leads to a higher quality of life. The redefinition of interests away from national power and prestige, toward Western values was not a move away from national interest as a motivation for policy but a change in understanding what that national interest is, a fact evidenced by how Germany was even in the early 1980s willing to pursue its direct interests in the EC, so long as that pursuit did not threaten the institutional integrity or limit the future

MISSILES AND PROTESTS: THE EARLY 1980s

73

development of the European Community. In that sense, Germany’s interests reflected the general state of an international system defined by John Gerard Ruggie as one of “embedded liberalism.”56 The policy logic Germans chose was clearly multilateralist, focused on building cooperative institutions. This logic allowed Germany to undertake what earlier would have been seen as a contradictory policy, both conciliatory and provocative. How could one introduce new missiles, yet build bridges of cooperation? How could one ally with a man who sees the East as an “evil empire” and at the same time try to build closer ties and work on deals to, among other things, import natural gas and make the USSR a supplier of important natural resources? Such policies had a disconnect that left Western analysts scratching their heads, perhaps remembering Otto von Bismarck’s overlapping and contradictory promises and treaties. The reality was more straightforward. By using a policy logic that did not emphasize power and national interest, but instead focused on cooperation, institution building, and working toward common goals, West German leaders could cooperate with the West to make a positive contribution to an alliance dedicated to peace while working to develop better relations with the East in order to make that peace more likely. Such logic fits into the kind of worldview expressed in the programs of all three major parties in the Cold War era and reflects a postsovereign foreign policy identity, promoting collective and mutual interests rather than just individual state interests. Germany still pursued its national self-interest, but it did so using soft power within an institutional framework. A post-sovereign foreign policy identity does not mean a state simply sacrifices national interest for the good of the whole; nor is it a complete rejection of power politics and the kind of greed and desire for gain that seems an inherent part of human nature. Such an extreme interpretation of German foreign policy would be inaccurate. In the early 1980s German policy displayed attributes demonstrating that their policy had “grown up.” It exhibited a strong and resilient post-sovereign identity, based on shared norms and understanding about what German foreign policy should be, rather than just as tactics to achieve German interests. It was consistent, sometimes bold, and built on a firm consensus shared between elites and the public. It was, however, clearly a Cold War foreign policy. Questions about the potential use of the military were never clearly dealt with, as the military was considered an unfortunate necessity for deterring what would have been

74

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

an absolutely devastating nuclear war. At the time, Germany remained divided, on the front lines of the Cold War conflict. There was arguably little that Germans could do but try to find a balance in a world where the big decisions rested with the superpowers. The test as to how strong this post-sovereign foreign policy identity actually was would come when the sudden end to the Cold War transformed European politics and the international system. Notes

1. De Rose, “Nuclear Forces and Alliance Relations,” pp. 123–137. 2. Barnet, “Annals of Diplomacy: Alliance-II”; and Hanrieder, Germany, America, and Europe, p. 115. 3. Rowland Evans and Robert Novak, “Conceding Defeat in Europe,” Washington Post, August 3, 1977, p. 19. 4. For a general statement of early Green philosophy, see Bahro, Building the Green Movement. For other analysis of the rise of the peace movement in historical perspective, see Cooper, Paradoxes of Peace. 5. For a good general discussion on NATO and the neutron bomb, see Wassermann, The Neutron Bomb Controversy. 6. Brechtefeld, Mitteleuropa and German Politics, p. 85. 7. Die Grünen, Entrüstet Euch; and Die Grünen, Friedensmanifest, both short pamphlets published by the Greens in Bonn, 1983. 8. Paterson, “The Chancellor and Foreign Policy,” p. 151. 9. Cooper, Paradoxes of Peace, p. 157. 10. In the 1950s the high point of peace movement protests was a march involving about 325,000; by 1983 the missile controversy would generate protests involving 2–4 million people in a one-week period. Mushaben, “Grassroots and Gewaltfreie Aktion,” p. 143. 11. “Nicht Mehr Viel Freunde,” Der Spiegel, March 8, 1982, p. 25; and “Friedensbewegung in der Weimarer Republik,” Der Spiegel, June 7, 1982, p. 72. 12. Pittman, From Ostpolitik to Reunification, pp. 101–110. 13. Schmidt, A Grand Strategy for the West. Schmidt’s book is a brilliant and foresightful reflection on foreign relations written shortly after he left power. 14. “Pershing II Verfassungswidrig?” Der Spiegel, March 22, 1982, p. 30. As strong as the argument appeared on its face, the government could claim that there was absolutely no intent to use the missiles to start a war and their existence was to both defend Germany and deter the Soviets from starting an armed conflict. 15. “Nochrüstung: Vorstoß der Rechten,” Der Spiegel, April 19, 1982. 16. Wilhelm Bittort, “Blockader des NATO Atomwaffenlagers Großengstingen,” Der Spiegel, August 6, 1982, p. 16.

MISSILES AND PROTESTS: THE EARLY 1980s

75

17. Gress, Peace and Survival, p. 27. 18. Lafontaine, Angst vor den Freunden. Lafontaine develops an argument throughout the book that offers a peace movement alternative to alliance policies, to some extent questioning the consensus that had defined German policy, though doing so carefully, trying to maintain multilateralist norms. 19. Groups such as the nuclear freeze supporters never had the kind of mass support German opponents to missile modernization enjoyed. The number of arrests rose throughout the year; in the fall, 380 were arrested in Tübingen, and it appeared that the antimissile forces were gaining strength. “Friedensbewegung zweifellose verwerflich,” Der Spiegel, October 4, 1982, p. 101. 20. There were a number of reports in the German media of such actions. Some of the most significant include 380 arrested in Tübingen (Der Spiegel, October 4, 1982, p. 101); a number in Großengstingen (Der Spiegel, December 6, 1982, p. 120); and 292 arrested near Stuttgart (Der Spiegel, April 11, 1983, p. 108). 21. For more detail on coverage in Der Spiegel, see Donsbach, Matthias Kepplingen, and Noelle-Neumann, “West German Perceptions of NATO and the Warsaw Pact.” 22. Cooper, Paradoxes of Peace, pp. 136–137. For information on the development of peace research in the late 1960s and early 1970s, see Kühnlein, Die Entwicklung der Kritischen Friedensforschung in der Bundesrepublik Deutschland. 23. “Nachrüstung ohne Historische Parallele,” Der Spiegel, June 13, 1983, p. 29; and “Heißer Herbst: Diesmal wollen wir nicht schweigen,” Der Spiegel, August 29, 1983, p. 25. 24. Cooper, Paradoxes of Peace, p. 213. 25. “Nachrüstung: Warten auf den Advent,” Der Spiegel, October 24, 1992, p. 19. By November and December, cynicism and calls for more radical behavior echoed through the peace movement as it died out. See “Wird die Friedensbewegung Radikaler?” Der Spiegel, November 13, 1983, p. 56; and “Zerstörungswerk in Schwäbisch Gmünd,” Der Spiegel, December 12, 1983, p. 66. 26. Paterson, “The Chancellor and Foreign Policy,” p. 136. 27. Clemens, Reluctant Realists, pp. 277–313. 28. Just as the SPD’s drift to the right helped spur left-wing counter movements, Strauss’s acceptance of Ostpolitik infuriated right wingers, especially in his home state of Bavaria, and led to the creation of a right-wing party called Die Republikaner, led by a former SS officer. 29. Plock, East German and West German Relations and the Fall of the GDR, p. 48. 30. Ibid., p. 71. 31. Mehl, Bundestagsparteien und Sicherheitspolitik, p. 20. 32. Clemens, “Changing Public Perceptions of NATO,” pp. 23–53. 33. Gress, Peace and Survival, p. 151. 34. Betz, “Mitteleuropa and Post-modern European Identity,” p. 182. 35. That visit had been planned for quite some time, with Soviet pressure

76

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

on East Germany delaying Honecker’s trip. See Stent, Russia and Germany Reborn, p. 37. 36. Theo Sommer, “Deutschland: Gedoppelt, nicht getrennt,” Die Zeit, September 11, 1987; and Bruns, “After the Honecker Visit—And What Now?” Interestingly, Bruns delivered a paper as late as June 1989 stressing the lack of responsibility of anyone still harboring dreams of unification. Bruns, a scholar on East European and especially East German affairs, should not be chided for his lack of prescience. Rather, this highlights the apparent normalcy that had developed in relations between East and West Germany. 37. For a good discussion on Franco-German relations through the early 1980s, see Simonian, The Privileged Partnership. 38. Paterson, “The Chancellor and Foreign Policy,” p. 148. 39. The European Council was inaugurated in 1974 as an intergovernmental addition to the institutions of the European Community, made up of the heads of government of the member states who would meet in regular summits two or three times a year. 40. Paterson, “The Chancellor and Foreign Policy,” p. 149. 41. McCarthy, “Condemned to Partnership,” pp. 17–19. 42. Allin, “Germany Looks at France,” pp. 31–32. 43. Boche, “Franco-German Economic Relations,” p. 82. 44. Wallace, Britain in Europe, p. 32. 45. For more on Britain’s policies and difficulties, see George, An Awkward Partner. 46. Urwin, The Community of Europe, p. 227. 47. See Taylor, “The New Dynamics of EC Integration in the 1980s,” pp. 3–26. 48. A good discussion of this issue can be found in Jentleson, Pipeline Politics. 49. See Shultz, Triumph and Turmoil, pp. 135–145. Shultz was more receptive to European concerns than others in the administration, notably Caspar Weinberger who as secretary of defense was actively talking about a winnable nuclear war. 50. For a good discussion of Franco-German relations, see Friend, The Linchpin. 51. Allin, “Germany Looks at France,” pp. 53–55. 52. Diner, “Die nationale Frage in der Friedensbewegung.” 53. Friend, “U.S. Policy Towards Franco-German Cooperation,” p. 164. 54. Gordon, “The Franco-German Security Partnership,” p. 144. 55. The CSCE was a forum that began in July 1973 where European states, Canada, and the United States worked with East European states and the Soviet Union to discuss ways to stabilize relations. The result was the Helsinki accords, signed by 35 states in 1975, codifying the status quo in Europe, seeking to promote human rights, and fostering cooperative diplomacy. 56. Ruggie, “International Regimes, Transactions, and Change,” p. 195.

Four Uniting Germany and Ending the Cold War, 1985–1990

tary of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union in early 1985, the idea of German unification was as far from the agenda as it had ever been since 1945. The Cold War showed no signs of abating. Official Soviet policy made it clear that Germany was a potential threat to the USSR. The conventional wisdom in the West, including inside Germany, was that if German unification ever were to happen, it would be decades in the future, only after the two blocs overcame their acrimonious relationship.1 The world in early 1985 did not appear to be on the verge of a major transition. That same year, Helmut Schmidt, not yet three years out of office, published a book, A Grand Strategy for the West: The Anachronism of National Strategies in an Interdependent World. Coming from a former leader rather than a university scholar, his argument for a multilateral strategy and the obsolescence of foreign policy nationalism was significant, suggesting that Germans at high levels had indeed embraced a new conception of foreign policy. The changes that would take place in Europe and Germany from 1985 to 1990 were in part shaped by the kind of foreign policy West Germany pursued. Analysts at the time understandably emphasized the policies of the Reagan administration and Gorbachev’s glasnost and perestroika, but Germany’s policies had helped make such developments possible. Gorbachev’s dilemma in 1985 was how to reform the Soviet Union to avoid economic collapse while not being stymied by the military establishment, whose interests up to that point had precedence over economic concerns. The best way to do this, Gorbachev discovered, was to follow the kind of multilateral, cooperative approach WHEN MIKHAIL SERGEYEVICH GORBACHEV BECAME GENERAL SECRE-

77

78

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

embraced by West Germany. Multilateralism created an opportunity for Gorbachev to craft a policy designed to stress a “common European home” that was neither overtly Western nor Communist in nature. Without Ostpolitik and Germany’s emphasis on cooperation, it is unlikely Gorbachev could have held on as long as he did with his policies. German success in the late 1980s not only shows the efficacy of German foreign policy but also demonstrates that Germany’s emphasis on multilateralism and cooperative institution-building worked, achieving outcomes improbable within the power-politics paradigm that has dominated foreign policy analysis for the past century. An analysis of German foreign policy and diplomacy demonstrates that a major reason for Germany’s success at achieving unification without significant constraints is its foreign policy style. A Germany focused on national interest and power politics would likely not have been able to achieve these results, or even to have created the conditions where events could unfold as they did. Simply, Germany’s post-sovereign foreign policy identity worked. Nuclear Dilemmas and German Security Policy

When Gorbachev came to power, few knew what to expect. At his first meeting with Western leaders at the funeral of Konstantin Chernenko, Gorbachev treated Helmut Kohl with less respect than he did Margaret Thatcher and François Mitterrand, warning Kohl that Soviet security interests, as well as respect for existing political and territorial realities, were decisive for the development of the Soviet-German relationship.2 This admonition reflected traditional Soviet concerns about German policy and was reinforced by Soviet actions during the first two years of Gorbachev’s rule. Back in 1977 Soviet foreign minister Andrei Gromyko had dismissed talk about German unification, noting that “We certainly don’t need a united Germany, not even a Socialist one. A united socialist China is enough for us.” 3 Though Gorbachev met with Social Democrats such as Willy Brandt and talked about a new détente, Gorbachev’s policy style was similar to that of the Soviets during the missile controversy: to try to pressure the government while warming up to more friendly Social Democrats in hopes of decoupling Germany from U.S. policy, thereby improving the USSR’s strategic position. Only after Kohl emerged victorious in the 1987 elections, making clear

UNITING GERMANY, 1985–1990

79

that the Soviets would not get an SPD government to deal with, did they start significantly improving bilateral ties. Despite cool relations with Moscow, intra-German détente continued, often to the irritation of both the United States and USSR. The period from 1985 to 1987 had no major breakthroughs, but Gorbachev’s ideas were resonating within Germany because he was using the same kind of rhetoric that had accompanied German policy. His “new thinking” was in essence an argument that interdependence and the unacceptability of war made it imperative that states build cooperative ties and overcome disputes. Gorbachev’s ideas were similar to those of the Germans. The hope Gorbachev inspired also led to a sudden and dramatic decline in the strength of the peace movement, as war no longer seemed imminent.4 Though Gorbachev did not reject socialism as a system of government, he rejected using socialist ideology to guide the formation of foreign policy.5 The Soviet economy was sick, and in a world where technological advances were increasing at an unprecedented rate, making it impossible for the USSR to isolate itself from the success of the West, the policies of old simply would not work. The Soviet economy had grown until 1971, but after that there followed years of stagnation. By the mid-1980s the economy actually started to shrink.6 In the West the opposite was happening; the information revolution and the ease of cross-border trade and commerce allowed the proliferation of multinational enterprises using foreign direct investment (FDI). Between 1985 and 1993 FDI tripled worldwide to reach $4.2 trillion per year.7 With barriers to trade and investment disappearing, the technological revolution was fueling a growth spurt in the West.8 The Soviet Union could not compete, and though its military arsenal could for a time assure its status as a superpower, the quality of life in the East bloc continued to disintegrate. These realities made it impossible for Gorbachev to continue Brezhnev-era policies if he wanted to achieve his goal of reviving the Soviet Union. The task for Gorbachev was, if not to end the Cold War, at least put a halt to the animosity that had reigned since the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan. Jump-starting relations with the United States was difficult. Reagan and Gorbachev met in Geneva in 1985 and agreed to have a summit in the United States the next year. Progress was slow, however, and on October 11–12, 1986, the two met in a “pre-summit” at Reykjavik, Iceland, to set an agenda for the proposed future summit. The world was shocked when the two adversaries nearly reached a his-

80

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

toric agreement to reduce offensive nuclear arsenals on both sides. While the failure to reach that agreement made what had been a near breakthrough seem yet another Cold War disappointment, both President Mitterrand and Chancellor Kohl were stung by the fact that it had occurred without their consultation. Both the French and German foreign policy establishments feared that the U.S. guarantee of European security could be supplanted.9 The issues being discussed involved European-based weapons and were essential to the question of how to defend Western Europe, yet the U.S. president was apparently on the verge of deciding unilaterally on a deal that would have had a profound effect on European security and NATO policy. When the Intermediate Nuclear Forces (INF) agreement was reached in 1987, formalizing much of what had almost been accomplished at Reykjavik, Kohl initially opposed the arrangement, which required eliminating all intermediate range weapons from Europe. Ironically (and irritatingly for the Reagan administration), the Germans had gone from wanting more action on arms control than the United States was willing to undertake to thinking the Americans were moving too quickly. The reason for Kohl’s hesitancy was the same as the reason why Schmidt had proposed modernizing intermediate missiles in the first place. As long as the United States had missiles that could reach the Soviet Union, it added weight to the guarantee that the United States would risk war to protect the West Europeans. According to the logic of deterrence, actual war would be less likely if the Soviets knew that such a war would involve a major superpower confrontation. In other words, the clearer it was that conflict in Europe would lead to a nuclear war, the more likely it was that there would not be armed conflict in Europe. Not only that, but Kohl had withstood a torrent of political turmoil to install the missiles; now he would have to turn around and see them removed. At the same time, battlefield nuclear weapons remained, creating the continued impression that the United States thought nuclear war could be limited and that in such a case it would be limited to Europe and specifically Germany. Kohl had stood by the alliance despite domestic pressure, but the United States did not consider Germany’s voice important in determining nuclear arms control strategies. This concern was compounded by unease over the Strategic Defense Initiative (SDI). On March 23, 1983, in a nationally televised speech, President Reagan told Americans that he was committing the United States to the project of building a missile defense shield based in space that would supposedly protect them from incoming intercontinen-

UNITING GERMANY, 1985–1990

81

tal ballistic missiles. Reagan believed the doctrine of mutually assured destruction (MAD) was immoral, as it rejected efforts to defend citizens from a nuclear attack. A few things about SDI disquieted an already concerned German foreign policy establishment. SDI offered no protection to Europeans. Strategic nuclear weapons are long range, and the time it would take to target and stop a missile meant the system would be ineffective against intermediate- or short-range missiles, the kind threatening Europe. That would add to the possibility that Europe could be seen as an “acceptable sacrifice” for winning the war against communism. If the United States could reasonably believe that a war could be limited and, absent that, that an SDI system would nonetheless protect them from Soviet strikes, then they would be more likely to engage the Soviets in a manner that might bring about a conflict. Though the United States promised that their invulnerability would strengthen deterrence, Germans feared that it could also make the Americans more likely to pursue a unilateralist policy without regard to European interests. In short, SDI had the potential to break up the Western alliance.10 It took nearly a year for Germany to respond to the proposal, and only in December 1985 were German firms allowed to participate in SDI research.11 The issues SDI raised were precisely the kinds of concerns that had caused De Gaulle to question U.S. dominance of the alliance two decades earlier, and the growing rift between Washington and Bonn over policy was real. However, it did not lead to the kind of split in NATO that some expected, as Kohl and his foreign minister Hans Dietrich Genscher remained committed to preserving the primacy of integration into Western institutions over a specific focus on national interests. Though public opinion was opposed to SDI and even the most pro-American Germans generally cool to it, Germany agreed to participate in SDI research, recognizing that it would be folly simply to refuse. They participated less out of true support than a desire to influence U.S. planning.12 SDI also helped convince Germany to reconsider the importance of its strategic partnership with France, strengthening those bonds as a positive response to U.S. policy rather than actively opposing or even aggressively lobbying against U.S. proposals. As noted in Chapter 3, cooperation between Schmidt and Giscard helped launch the EMS, and Franco-German cooperation was seen as essential for the future of the European Community. By the mid-1980s, that collaboration extended to security issues as well. After German rejection of the Gaullist alternative and the subsequent French with-

82

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

drawal from the NATO organization in the 1960s, Germany and France had minimal security policy integration. It was not until 1982 that toplevel foreign and defense officials started to meet regularly to work on issues of coordinating military affairs, forming the Franco-German Commission for Defense and Security. Mitterrand decided by the early 1980s to break from the Gaullist notion that Franco-German collaboration was an alternative to U.S. leadership of the NATO alliance, as evidenced by his 1983 speech favoring missile deployments. FrancoGerman cooperation began to pick up speed, as Germany could pursue it alongside its commitment to NATO without fearing a contradiction between the two. In February 1986 joint military school participation, consultation, and military cooperation increased, including the establishment of a Paris-Bonn hotline to allow the French to confer with the Germans before any use of tactical nuclear weapons.13 This development was followed in 1987 by operation Kecker Spatz/Moineau Hardi (Bold Sparrow), a joint maneuver involving 55,000 German and 20,000 French soldiers under German command. French defense minister Andre Giraud called it “a concrete manifestation of the common will of France and the Federal Republic of Germany to reinforce their cooperation in the matter of security and to promote the true European pillar of defense that the Atlantic Alliance requires to preserve the peace.”14 What made this operation unique was that it involved the French rapid reaction force in operations in Bavaria and Baden Württemberg, outside France’s usual zone of operation. In deference to French wishes, the NATO SACEUR (Strategic Commander in Europe) was not invited to attend and observe.15 Also in 1987, Helmut Kohl first voiced the idea of a Franco-German brigade, something that became a reality in 1990. This demonstrated not only closer cooperation between the two nations, but also the ability of the French to participate actively in the defense of Germany. 16 Mitterrand stopped short of stating that France would defend Germany with its nuclear force, which demonstrated that he was keeping his options open: As symbolically powerful as the military cooperation was, France was obligated to nothing more than before. What Mitterrand lacked in new commitments, he made up for in support of German positions on arms control and nuclear policy, supporting Kohl’s March 1988 effort at the Brussels summit to ban shortrange missiles and stating that France was not preparing to fight a war if Germany was forward territory.17 Coming at a time of French modernization of its entire nuclear arsenal, Mitterand’s statements at least hint that in the future France might come to see an interest in protecting Germany with its nuclear weapons. In January 1988 the initiation of the

UNITING GERMANY, 1985–1990

83

Franco-German Defense and Security Council further institutionalized consultation and cooperation, helping lead to the agreement to create the Franco-German brigade. This and the Economic Finance Council were aspects of the 1963 Elysée Treaty that were finally being implemented.18 In September 1989, 5,000 German and 25,000 French troops participated in maneuvers on the World War I battlefield of the Marne, another symbol of a new cooperative spirit.19 Although it appeared that the French had simply given up the Gaullist notion of a separate Europe between the superpowers, its military cooperation with Germany also could be seen as the emergence of a possible alternative to NATO, should U.S. commitment to Europe diminish. The changes can also be read as a victory of Germany’s post-sovereign foreign policy. The Germans caused the French to play the game on German terms, by institutionalizing cooperation, and avoiding a zero-sum definition of interests (Franco-German cooperation did not necessitate a decreased German-U.S. partnership). To be sure, France took part based on a calculation of its national interest and not a commitment to any kind of post-sovereign foreign policy identity. But even in Germany, the initial steps toward a post-sovereign policy identity resulted from efforts to promote German interests. Now, Germany and France were redefining their own policies within an institutional framework. By 1989 Germany and France had concluded nearly a decade of productive and unprecedented cooperation, both on economic and military matters. The joint ventures between the two continued, as each success deepened the trust and acceptance of closer ties. Germany was slowly gaining acceptance throughout the European Union for its postsovereign foreign policy norms, even in the traditionally nationalist and independent France. While the improved ties between West Germany and France were impressive, more dramatic were the changes in the mid- to late 1980s in the relationship between Germany and its other former wartime enemy and continued Cold War rival, the Soviet Union. Mikhail Gorbachev brought to both the Soviet Union and GermanSoviet relations a new and exciting dynamic. The relationship started slowly, but by the end of the decade, cooperation between Germany and the Soviet Union helped assure a peaceful end to the Cold War. The Gorbachev Phenomenon

In the rough and tumble leading up to the January 1987 election in West Germany, Kohl compared Gorbachev with Hitler’s propaganda chief,

84

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

Joseph Goebbels, arguing that the new Soviet leader was simply packaging the old communist product in more palatable rhetoric. 20 Gorbachev reacted by refusing to allow East German leader Erich Honecker to visit West Germany and by attacking “German militarism,” a stock-in-trade of Soviet rhetoric during the missile modernization crisis of the early 1980s. Three years later, West Germans would be lavishing more praise and adoration on Gorbachev than would anyone else in the West. Between 1987 and 1989 Gorbachev’s popularity increased until he achieved something akin to rock star status in Germany. The emotional appeal of “Gorbi” was obvious: He represented the best hope in a long time of overcoming the Cold War and the fear Germans had that an accident or crisis could escalate into a war that would decimate Germany. The idea that the Soviet Union could change reflected the first whiff of not only a possible return to the days of détente but even a profound change in the nature of the Cold War. Despite Kohl’s comment, the German policy elite found Gorbachev to be emerging by 1987 as a man with the potential to alter the form of Cold War politics. Hans Dietrich Genscher raised eyebrows in Davos, Switzerland, in a speech before the World Economic Forum, by saying that Gorbachev had to be taken at his word and taken seriously.21 At the time, despite the promise of Reykjavik, most Western leaders were still dubious about Gorbachev, and many in the Reagan administration shared the view expressed by Kohl, convinced Gorbachev was just a more charming and subtle kind of Communist. When the CDU/CSU won the 1987 election, however, Gorbachev realized there was no alternative but to deal with Kohl, and Kohl responded. Beginning in 1987 Germany and Russia would move toward what would become a very important relationship in an era of transformation no one imagined was about to begin. Starting with Genscher’s January Davos comments, the year progressed with the long-delayed visit by East German leader Erich Honecker to West Germany, a meeting between Kohl and his Communist counterpart that seemed to indicate that not only had the CDU accepted Ostpolitik but that there was general acknowledgment of the reality and persistence of the East German state.22 Short of actual recognition of East Germany, which was simply out of the question for West Germany, this acknowledgment was about as good as Gorbachev could hope for, and perhaps it is one reason why Gorbachev did not realize just how disruptive and dangerous East European reform would be for the East German state. His opening with

UNITING GERMANY, 1985–1990

85

Western Europe required stability in East-West relations in Europe, and the most important component of that stability seemed to lie with intraGerman relations. In July of that same year West German president Richard von Weizsäcker visited Moscow, striking up a friendly dialogue that was a marked contrast to the problems the Soviets were having with France. The Soviets believed the French position on its nuclear force was making it difficult to cement an INF agreement, and in early 1987 the French had expelled Soviet diplomats, accusing them of spying. Weizsäcker’s July visit was more pleasant than Mitterrand’s trip to Moscow two months earlier. Finally, in December CSU archconservative Franz Josef Strauss visited Moscow and had a remarkably productive meeting. He was surprised that Gorbachev did not rebuff the pointed Strauss claim that Germany was one nation and its division unnatural. With Strauss on board for the new détente, Soviet-German relations were better than they had been since negotiations on Brandt’s Ostpolitik treaties. Gorbachev learned that German attitudes were open to the kind of reforms he wanted to accomplish and that Germans welcomed his “new thinking” with less suspicion than either Mitterrand or Thatcher did. An odd event in May 1987 offers a surreal symbol of how the relationship was changing. A West German citizen named Mathias Rust flew a small aircraft from West Germany to Moscow, landing in Red Square. The Soviets were embarrassed at how their domestic air defenses had been shown too ineffective to track a small aircraft to the most important spot in the Soviet capital, and though Rust’s star would fade, Germans initially were amused by an act of such absurd audacity. In a bizarre way, Rust’s trip managed to defy traditional images of the two blocs separated by military and political forces forming what Churchill had called an “iron curtain.” Perhaps the blocs were not so entrenched, and maybe it just took some audacity to defy the conventional wisdom and try something new. In 1988 and 1989 the German-Russian relationship blossomed, as highlighted by dozens of accords, with economic cooperation agreements involving credits worth billions of dollars, accompanied by dozens of joint ventures between the Soviet Union and West German businesses. German-Russian contacts increased, as once-rare official meetings became commonplace. These included a frank talk between the Russian leadership and the old architects of Ostpolitik, Social Democrats Willy Brandt and Egon Bahr, touching on many issues

86

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

including Gorbachev’s domestic difficulties in trying to bring change to his country. All of this paved the way for a series of two major summits between Kohl and Gorbachev, the first in Moscow in October 1988, and the second in Bonn the next June. Kohl’s travel party in 1988 showed the nature of the emerging relationship. Besides the usual core of foreign policy experts he brought more than seventy business representatives, and the resulting agreements focused as much on economic and cultural matters as on traditional foreign policy. This mirrored the approach taken by Brandt with Ostpolitik, although in the 1970s Brandt was dealing with another German state, one whose existence the West did not recognize. Here the agreements were between opponents in a forty-year Cold War. Two months later at the United Nations, Gorbachev announced that he was cutting Warsaw Pact forces in Central Europe by over 500,000, with the lion’s share of cuts from potential offensive forces, something that did not sit well with the Soviet military.23 This “new détente” was not just a repeat of the 1970s détente, when the superpowers agreed that it was in their interest to keep the system stable. This time Gorbachev was suggesting a real change in thinking about East-West relations. While declaring the reduction of troops, he also announced that 10,000 tanks would be withdrawn (six divisions from East Germany) and that the Soviet Union would pass laws against the persecution of people based on political or religious beliefs. 24 Rather than following the lead of the United States, Germany actively embraced the Soviet Union in a manner designed to deepen cooperation and economic interdependence without raising the ire of the NATO allies. In the early 1980s a relatively minor Siberian natural gas pipeline deal had caused an emotional rift between the Reagan administration and Europe. Now growing economic links and political ties between Germany and the Soviets were complementing U.S. efforts to produce arms control agreements like the December 1987 INF treaty. In the past, Soviet leaders had used the potential for closer relations with Europe in order to play a zero-sum power-politics game of decoupling Germany or Europe from the United States and gain a strategic advantage. Now Gorbachev was pursuing closer ties with methods that did not require Germany to weaken its commitment to the West. When Gorbachev visited Bonn in June 1989, he was greeted with the kind of enthusiasm Germans showed their Wimbledon tennis champions Boris Becker and Steffi Graf. He was more a superstar than a politician—and certainly not an enemy—and he received the kind of hero’s welcome De Gaulle

UNITING GERMANY, 1985–1990

87

had enjoyed in 1962; Germans claimed they trusted Gorbachev more than both Ronald Reagan and their own chancellor. 25 For West Germans, the Cold War was becoming passé; the key was now to assure that Gorbachev received enough aid and foreign policy success to prevent conservative forces in the USSR from overthrowing his regime. For those versed in history, the German response to Gorbachev raised some eyebrows. The idea of Germany again straddling East and West, this time smitten by a charming Soviet leader who captured the public imagination, had to be taken seriously. British prime minister Margaret Thatcher noted that history suggested a danger that Germany might be lured to neutralism by Gorbachev, who could hint at the prospect of reunification. She thought this danger evident in Kohl’s unwillingness in 1989 to support short-range nuclear force modernization.26 The Lance missile, decades old, was to be replaced by one with greater range (450 kilometers) and new nuclear artillery shells. With the 1990 elections looking too close to call, Kohl resisted the change, arousing accusations of “Genscherism,” as the United States blamed the foreign minister for wanting to move too quickly to strengthen relations with the Soviets.27 Kohl’s position on short-range missiles reflected German willingness to take Gorbachev seriously and to avoid NATO acts that might hurt efforts at creating a new framework for policy between East and West. The issue was boiling over in early 1989 as the United States argued that short-range missile modernization was a matter of loyalty to the alliance, claiming the decision had been made before the INF agreement was signed and that it was essential to NATO security.28 The controversy was similar to the dual-track issue of the early 1980s, except that, thanks to Gorbachev, German perceptions of Cold War politics had changed by 1989. The Left argued that the missiles were not needed, since perestroika and changes in Eastern Europe meant that neither side had a possible aim in a war in Europe.29 The CDU also sensed the importance of changing conditions and started to take U.S. threats to remove troops less seriously.30 The new détente reflected a changed world, one that was moving away from a focus on nuclear deterrence and a balance of power toward an attempt to link East and West into institutional arrangements that could potentially foster true cooperation. Helmut Kohl had stood up to public opinion in the 1980s on intermediate missile modernization, but he was balking at U.S. plans for doing the same for short-range missiles. In her memoirs, Margaret Thatcher recalls heated exchanges with Kohl on the issue of

88

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

short-range nuclear weapons, saying Kohl got agitated, complaining that he was either being attacked as a vassal of the Americans or as a traitor.31 In the end, Kohl convinced the United States to put off deployment of short-range missiles, disappointing Thatcher and reflecting the importance of Germany to the Bush administration in early 1989. While Thatcher accused Germany of defeatism, fearing that the Germans wanted to be a “bridge to the East,” even raising the “specter” of unification, the Bush administration was worried that not adhering to Kohl’s desire to negotiate would simply give the SPD more ammunition for what at that time looked like a very close election for 1990.32 Events in late 1989, of course, would render the short-range missile issue moot. Unlike the Germans, many in the West were suspicious that Gorbachev was continuing the policy of trying to “decouple” Europe and the United States, this time focusing on Germany.33 Perhaps that is one reason President Bush made a point in May 1989 to offer Germany a “partnership in leadership” with the United States.34 In Britain, many feared that Gorbachev was “wooing” the Germans away and that the Soviets could destroy NATO by allowing German unification.35 Given the strengthening relationship between Gorbachev and U.S. presidents Ronald Reagan and George Bush, as well as the difficulties the INF agreement caused for the European allies, it is unlikely that this was the primary motive for Gorbachev’s policies. Gorbachev’s new thinking centered on his economic restructuring, or perestroika, which required he show success in improving Soviet relations with the West, with increased economic cooperation. This emphasis on cooperation was not only a comfortable fit with German policy, but the price of cooperation with the Soviet Union was no longer to decouple from NATO and the West. As with France, the Germans had convinced the Soviets not to view German cooperation with the Soviet Union as an alternative to German cooperation with NATO. In retrospect, the remarkable thing about German policy in the late 1980s is that the Germans, more than anyone else, had it right. Gorbachev was in a position to change the world, and this required creative reactions from the West. 36 Gorbachev talked of a “common European home,” and his book about the subject spoke in the kind of cooperative institutional language of interdependence and mutual destinies that dominated German thought.37 Germans began to feel optimistic that a process was in place that could slowly reduce tensions and ultimately lead to real peace in Europe. But even the most optimistic among them could hardly have imagined what would come next.

UNITING GERMANY, 1985–1990

A Dream Come True—The Fall of the Wall

89

November 9, 1988, was a special day in Berlin. It was the fiftieth anniversary of Kristallnacht, and West Berlin mayor Walter Momper lead a commemoration of the events of November 9, 1938, when synagogues and Jewish shops were burned, marking the start of organized mass violence against the Jews in Nazi Germany.38 In one of history’s ironies, a year later, the day of Kristallnacht would also become the day when the Berlin Wall fell; a day associated with German shame would become a day associated with German joy and renewal.39 A year later Momper would go on West Berlin television to welcome a misstatement by East German spokesman Gunter Schabowski, igniting the events of the evening of November 9, 1989. These events caught everyone by surprise. As late as August 1989 the conventional wisdom was that unification was only possible at the end of a long process of improved relations between East and West, a cap to a successful culmination of a European transition likely to take decades. The East German economy looked reasonably stable, even strong when compared to other Eastern bloc states. Yet intra-German trade had fallen after 1986, a sign that the economy was weakening and nearing collapse.40 In other policies, the East German state looked secure. The memory of Martin Luther was no longer seen as dangerous; the Sozialistische Einheitspartei Deutschlands (SED, Socialist Unity Party, the governing communist party of East Germany) gave up its claim that Luther had been a reactionary force, and embraced his memory. Travel and communication between the two Germanies increased dramatically. The visit of East German leader Erich Honecker to West Germany in 1987 convinced many analysts that East Germany was now being treated as an equal by the West Germans, fully entrenched as a sovereign state.41 In July 1987 Gorbachev made a statement to President Weizsäcker carried in Pravda, the official newspaper of the Soviet Union, that “history would decide” what would happen in the next hundred years to solve the German question. The quote, itself rather bland given that history at one level decides everything, surprised a lot of people (including those in East Germany) as for the first time it suggested that Moscow did not see the division of Germany as necessarily eternal.42 Alexander Yakoviev, a member of the Soviet Politburo close to Gorbachev, was quoted as saying that the Berlin Wall was “not our wall. That was a creation of the GDR.”43 Although the changes in 1989 were primarily the

90

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

direct result of internal developments in East Germany and Eastern Europe, the ability for domestic populations to undertake a revolution in 1989, and to make it both peaceful and successful, required an international environment in which they would be allowed to act effectively. Much of the credit for making conditions ripe for peaceful change goes to the style of German foreign policy over the previous decades. Their new détente with Gorbachev and the Soviet Union was a logical continuation of the Westpolitik of Adenauer and the Ostpolitik of Brandt. Germans had gone from enemy to friend of the West and had recognized gains that a zero-sum power-politics focus on international relations would not have allowed. If such a policy identity would work for them, why not for the Soviet Union? Though most dismissed the idea of German unification, Kohl and Genscher often probed Gorbachev on the issue and were surprised by his willingness to consider that the future could open new pathways for redefining intra-German relations, perhaps even leading to unification.44 To the Communist leadership in East Germany’s ruling SED, Gorbachev was definitely not the hero he was to the West. When his new thinking developed in the mid-1980s, stressing the need for reform and greater openness, SED leaders remained skeptical. The SED had been proud of East German economic and political performance and felt that it should not be forced to reform just because the Soviets had problems.45 In 1988 the SED banned the distribution of Sputnik, a Germanlanguage digest of Soviet articles, which included a more open than usual discussion on the shortcomings of the Soviet system. As Gorbachev attacked Stalinism, he was indirectly attacking the style used by the East German government to stay in power. 46 After the SED’s fall from power, former Volkskammer president Horst Sindermann recalled in an interview with the magazine Der Spiegel how initial reaction to perestroika and the new thinking had been very negative. Rather than think about the practicalities of the policy, they studied it in terms of Marxist-Leninist theory and found it wanting.47 Furthermore, perestroika had unique dangers for the East German system. Unlike their East European counterparts, East Germany defined itself as a separate state only by its socialist institutions. The leadership was coldly aware that reform could cause the state to lose its raison d’être. East German officials hoped that Soviet reform would be limited to internal and not international affairs, but Soviet foreign minister Eduard Shevardnadze disappointed them when he echoed what had become

UNITING GERMANY, 1985–1990

91

known as the “Sinatra doctrine”: Eastern Europe could do it “their way.”48 With this apparent green light, Hungary took the lead in paving the way for change. In March 1989 Hungary signed the UN Convention Relating to the Status of Refugees, stipulating that no refugees be returned against their will to a country where their life or liberty would be threatened.49 Angry denunciations from the GDR followed, but the Soviets refused to limit the Sinatra doctrine to purely internal affairs, and Hungary took another step in May when it normalized relations with Austria, removing sections of barbed wire from the AustroHungarian border. This was the first real crack in the iron curtain as Austrians and Hungarians could now travel relatively freely between their respective states. In the FRG, politicians were slow to react. Gearing up for the June 1989 European Parliament elections, they focused on Western unity rather than intra-German possibilities. As dramatic as the events between Austria and Hungary were, they were seen as part of the reform process gripping the East, rather than the first step in a total transformation of the European system. Most analysts noted that Austria and Hungary had long historical ties, meaning that their travel agreement would probably have only a limited impact on East-West relations. While the NATO short-range nuclear missile controversy received most of the press, the symbolic wire-cutting on the AustrianHungarian border was a minor sidebar, receiving, for example, a onepage story on page 173 of the May 8, 1989, issue of Germany’s most important newsweekly, Der Spiegel. Throughout May and June the West German media more or less ignored the situation in East Germany. Other than reports of the May 7 elections in East Germany (the SEDbloc received 98.75 percent of the vote, according to election officials), West Germans focused their attention on the June European Parliament election and Gorbachev’s visit to Bonn. Perhaps in response to pressures for reform, East German leader Erich Honecker announced in June 1989 possibilities for increased travel between East and West and suggested that the border could become menschlicher (more humane).50 As the summer wore on, East German fears mounted as to what changes elsewhere in Eastern Europe might mean for the viability of their state. A psychological campaign to discourage East German citizens from moving West began even before things started to unravel.51 The SED also cracked down on influences from the Soviet Union that might encourage reform. When West German television showed the Soviet movie Repentance, it was

92

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

denounced in the GDR. The East Germans confiscated several issues of the Soviet paper New Times and again stopped distribution of the youthoriented journal Sputnik.52 In West Germany people were optimistic about the possibility of noncommunists joining the government in Poland, and many hoped for progress in the Vienna Mutual and Balanced Force Reduction (MBFR ) talks. Although George Bush visited Germany in the summer, noting again that the Germans were “partners in leadership,” and saying “let Berlin be next,” in a call for the iron curtain to come down, it did not seem likely it would happen soon. Despite recognition that times were changing, the mood in West Germany was not one of a nation on the brink of transformation, but rather of guarded optimism for future progress in improving East-West relations. Spending the summer of 1989 in Germany engaged in research interviews, I sensed no optimism that German unification or even East German reform was likely in the near future. One SPD-leaning academic dismissed the possibility of reform, since “the East German state would lose its reason to exist,” while a CDU official predicted retrenched “East German Stalinism.” There was more excitement about the reforms in Poland and Hungary, with hope that Gorbachev’s policies would make some sort of Central European peace possible in the not-so-distant future. The West German elite had accepted the post–World War II status quo as legitimate, in at least the middle term. The political parties had reached a consensus on the nature of the German division, accepting that the goal of overcoming it was only long term, if not rhetorical. No one completely renounced the hope for eventual unification, though left-leaning officials tended to consider such talk as either naive or politically irresponsible.53 Analysts leaning to the CDU/CSU suggested that nationalistic statements sometimes uttered by Christian Democrats were meant to take the wind out of the sails of Die Republikaner, a right-wing fringe party with neo-Nazi overtones, which did well in the June 1989 European Parliament elections. Stephen Brockmann notes that the concept of reunification had been taboo in German intellectual circles for decades before the transition: “Particularly on the left but even on the right there was a broad consensus that détente, a policy of tiny steps, cooperation and mutual respect were the best policy toward a GDR that simply would not go away.”54 Even Helmut Kohl admitted as late as 1988 that he would likely not live long enough to experience reunification.55 The suddenness with which the collapse of the GDR thrust itself onto the German scene can be illustrated by considering the August 7

UNITING GERMANY, 1985–1990

93

and August 14 issues of Der Spiegel. The August 7 issue had no stories about German migration west, or potential threats to the East German system. The issue on August 14 had the migration as a title story: “Explodiert die DDR?—Massenflucht aus Honeckers Sozialismus” (Is the GDR Exploding? Mass Exodus out of Honecker’s Socialism). During the week before August 14, 1989, almost 100 people occupied the West German embassy in Budapest, demanding asylum. Others attempted to cross the Hungarian border into Austria, and the number of East Germans heading to Hungary was increasing. Despite talk about “reunification in the Federal Republic” (i.e., reunification by everyone moving west), most West German press organs treated the crisis as being of the same sort as past East-West crises. Pundits criticized Kohl for refusing to deal directly with Honecker on the issue, a strategy that Der Spiegel contrasted unfavorably with former Chancellor Schmidt’s ability to work with East German leaders to avert crises in the past. For a while the situation remained stable, and the crisis seemed to wane. Kohl remained aloof from talks with the SED on possible solutions, and GDR leaders put pressure on Hungary to crack down on those trying to leave the country. East German travel to Hungary was suspended for a time, and the government recommended Albania as an alternative vacation site for GDR tourists. By late August, the SED decided to allow those holed up in West Germany’s Budapest embassy to go west, but declared it a “one time” decision. The crisis was apparently averted. Although the migration dominated West German media sources, the world directed its attention to changes taking place in Poland. For the first time, the opposition was allowed to share power with the Communist Party in a way that suggested real influence. Although not directly related to events in Germany and Hungary, it was another indication of what Gorbachev would allow in Eastern Europe. In East Germany, however, things were not stable. East German refugees also occupied the Prague embassy, requiring another series of negotiations to secure their right to migrate to West Germany. In order to maintain the fiction of legal immigration, the East German government demanded that these dissidents travel through East Germany so it could claim to have expelled them. The train carrying them from East to West became a spark for protests as it crossed the southern part of East Germany, increasing public pressure on the regime even as it seemed that external pressure might subside. The CDU remained cautious, due to what one analyst noted was a

94

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

government interest in keeping the GDR stable so as not to threaten European unity.56 East Germany joined Czechoslovakia to put pressure on Hungary not to allow East Germans to use the Hungarian border as a means of immigration. For a while, this pressure worked. The Hungarian government delayed travel to the West, and it looked as if the SED had dodged another bullet. East German officials were critical of the Kohl government’s refusal to work to defuse the crisis and again allowed travel to Hungary. The apparent calm was broken when Hungary finally allowed migration to continue unhindered and pressure mounted for Poland and Czechoslovakia to do the same. Officially, the Hungarians noted that the United Nations agreement on the status of refugees they had signed earlier that year left them no choice. Practically, they realized that such a move would help secure Western economic aid and investment, and they only needed to be sure the Soviet Union would approve of their decision. In a meeting on August 25 between Kohl and Hungarian premier Miklos Nemeth near Bonn, the Hungarians informed West Germany that they had made a “sovereign decision” to allow the travel and that the Soviet Union, having been informed, did not say no. The decision was publicly announced on September 10. The result was a massive movement of people West via Hungary, and then later from Czechoslovakia. Despite the joy in West Germany over the turn of events, the influx of people produced problems. No one had expected so much migration; as late as 1988 people were saying that an opening of the wall would not cause an outpouring similar to the pre-1961 levels.57 SPD chairman Hans-Jochen Vogel called on the CDU government to hold the course and continue all possible contacts with East German officials. Ostpolitik’s architect in the 1970s, Egon Bahr, supported Vogel’s call to hold steady, arguing that 99.5 percent of GDR citizens would stay and that it would be wrong to question East Germany’s existence.58 By October, the hardliners in East Germany began to crack. In the first week of the month the country celebrated its fortieth birthday, a surreal event where for one last time the tanks, military columns, and brigades of Communist Youth marched through the capital to show the strength and endurance of German socialism. Yet as Mikhail Gorbachev, guest of honor at the event, greeted East German citizens, he heard calls of “Gorbi, Hilfe!” (“Gorbi, Help!”) from the crowds demanding reform. Warning that “life punishes those who are too late” to accept necessary change, Gorbachev made clear that the Soviets wanted a new policy from the East German leadership.59

UNITING GERMANY, 1985–1990

95

On October 9, 1989 a mass protest of 70,000 peaceful demonstrators in Leipzig led the government to contemplate a police crackdown, something unofficially called the “Chinese solution,” referring to the violence used by China against protesters at Tiananmen Square on June 4, 1989. But the crackdown did not happen. Stasi agents and militia were ready to respond, but Berlin officials were divided as to what to do, and local leaders were hesitant to attack their own citizens, especially as the protesters remained peaceful despite provocation. The victory of the protesters spelled the end for Honecker. On October 17, 1989, he was replaced by Egon Krenz, who promised reforms. Despite the change in leadership the situation continued to unravel for the ruling Communists. On November 4, more than 500,000 protesters gathered in Berlin’s roomy Alexanderplatz, the city’s main square, calling for change and reform. People were continuing to migrate to the West, as the borders in Czechoslovakia and even Poland (via ship) became more porous. It was too late for perestroika. The public had lost patience. At about 6:55 P.M. on November 9, 1989, near the end of his daily press conference in East Berlin, Politburo spokesman Günter Schabowski was asked a question by an Italian journalist about whether travel restrictions on East Germans would be eased. As a Politburo member, he had been given a draft of a plan to be discussed that evening at a Politburo meeting outlining how travel restrictions between East and West would be eased. It was to be implemented at the earliest the next day, and only after procedures had been detailed and border crossings prepared. The measure was an attempt by the new regime of Egon Krenz to convince East German citizens that the new government was bringing glasnost and perestroika to East Germany. They had reason to think that loosening travel restrictions could work. As late as 1987, 1.2 million of East Germany’s citizens had traveled to the West, and all but 0.3 percent of them had returned.60 Allowing travel would hopefully stop the exodus of East Germans through the suddenly porous borders of Czechoslovakia and Hungary. It was not even clear that this would include intra-Berlin travel, since Berlin affairs required approval from the four powers. Schabowski had only glanced at the plan, and when asked the question, remembered he had been given something about that very issue. He answered the journalist by reading from the draft stating that visas would be granted unconditionally to East Germans who wanted to visit the West as long as they had a valid passport. The journalists were stunned and skeptical; surely he couldn’t mean completely free travel between East and West? One puzzled cor-

96

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

respondent asked when this would start. Schabowski glanced at his papers, puzzled, and then found a sentence that said “unverzüglich” (“immediately”). The changes, he assured journalists, would take place immediately. Despite Schabowski’s carelessness, East German citizens did not rush for the border, having learned that what the government says did not always reflect what it did. West Berlin mayor Walter Momper understood the importance of the moment, however, and went on West Berlin television, which could be received by nearly everyone in East Berlin, praising Schabowski’s statement and calling it a historic day for Berlin. Goaded on by Momper’s air of celebration, East Berliners tried to use their new right, crowding border crossing points and demanding access to the West. Not only were the border guards not yet prepared for such crowds, they had not been informed of any change in policy. Most border stations had a normal complement of guards who had expected a quiet night simply making sure that no one tried to cross the wall. They were in no position to deal with demands for travel visas and had no idea how to react to the growing mobs demanding access to the other side of the city.61 They tried to get instructions, but no one knew what to do. With the Politburo locked away in a meeting that lasted until 11:00 P.M., none of the top leaders were informed about events on the street until it was too late to prevent them. In this confusion, guards got word to let the citizens pass, with or without valid passports and visas, and within hours the people of East Germany had accomplished what many had thought impossible—they brought down the iron curtain, and dramatically signaled that the Cold War was over. Within weeks, the Communist states of Eastern Europe would fall like dominos. What the arms race and threat of nuclear annihilation could not do, some careless words by a government press secretary and bold actions by a public accomplished. As this started to unfold, Bundestag deputies in Bonn were shocked to be called into an emergency session early that evening. As they gathered, some fearing perhaps the death of the chancellor or some other crisis, the news was given about the events in Berlin. One member of parliament described to me the reaction of those present. Older parliamentarians of all parties were swept with emotion, unable to hold back tears, hardly daring to believe what was happening. As they sang the national anthem, younger members were more subdued, some uncomfortable about the sudden display of nationalism. Furthermore, this kind of event had not been anticipated. There had been plans to deal with a

UNITING GERMANY, 1985–1990

97

Soviet attack, the eruption of riots in East Germany, border skirmishes, and coups in Moscow, but nothing to deal with the possibility of a peaceful, bloodless, and sudden revolution. It simply had not been considered a possibility. The Birth of the Berlin Republic

Within half a year, a plan was set to give the two Germanies one currency, and on October 3, 1990, forty-five years of division ended and Germany was again one state. The rapid pace of these events took nearly everyone by surprise. A month after the fall of the wall, 71 percent of East German residents still supported maintaining their separate state; only 27 percent said they wanted unification.62 The working assumption was that the Soviets would balk at any attempt to move forward on German unification, and the initial steps Kohl took were slow. The danger was real that this would be seen as an utter failure by Gorbachev to secure Soviet interests in Europe and that the forces opposed to perestroika and the new détente would sweep Gorbachev from power and implement a hard-line regime.63 While Thatcher and Mitterrand, each worried that a unified Germany would upset the balance of power in the EC and the continent as a whole, put their hopes on Gorbachev to slow any moves in that direction, Kohl and Genscher knew that Gorbachev was in reality more open to questioning the existing structure than most realized. If they could get both Bush and Gorbachev to acknowledge the legitimacy of German unification, it could be done. Kohl took his first tentative steps in that direction in late November, offering a ten-point plan to build a German confederation.64 Although events would make the proposal look exceedingly modest in hindsight, at the time it was criticized as going too far too fast.65 Thatcher and Mitterrand were extremely skeptical of German unification, for obvious reasons. Besides the lesson of history that a powerful Germany is often a dangerous one, the European Community rested on a subtle balance of interests between the various states, and each believed a shift toward Germany would upset that balance and harm the process, perhaps tilting it to one of German dominance. Thatcher quotes Mitterrand as saying that “in times of great danger” France and Britain historically work together, and that this was one of those times.66 Philip Zelikow and Condoleeza Rice note that Mitterrand was constantly worried that German unification could lead to a return to pre–World War I

98

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

conditions and ultimately war, and that Mitterrand and Bush discussed that possibility as early as May 1989 in Kennebunkport, Maine.67 This made 1990 a bad year for Franco-German cooperation. Mitterrand withdrew French troops from Germany despite German pleas they remain, and the French continued work on the short-range Hades missile, which, for all practical purposes, could only be used against German territory.68 For seasoned politicians like the British and French leaders, the pace was simply unimaginable. They had grown used to what Wolfram Hanrieder described as a “double containment” in Europe: containment of the Soviet Union through the NATO alliance and containment of Germany through its division.69 That each foundation of European politics could collapse was unthinkable and even frightening. Though Thatcher wrote in January that long-term European interests held precedence over Kohl and Genscher’s “narrow nationalistic aspirations,” the United States realized that moving fast would best integrate a unified Germany into NATO, and Helmut Kohl’s foreign policy adviser Horst Teltschik dismissed Thatcher’s perspective as being “stuck in nineteenth-century ideas about Europe.”70 If German policy had been built on the same kind of traditional national interest foundation as that of British and French policy, events might have been messier. Kohl’s surprise announcement of the tenpoint plan in fact caused some to fear just that; it was a rare bit of unilateral posturing from a committed multilateralist regime. Was this a sign of things to come? The plan itself was built on the premise of European unity and collaboration across borders, but German foreign policy activism had until this point been rare. Beyond that, Kohl waffled on Germany’s borders, a diplomatic gaffe apparently committed out of fear that right-wing fringe parties would get too much of the vote in the December 1990 elections. From the German perspective, it was the French and British who were behaving poorly, not welcoming the goal of German unity.71 Kohl had a number of things going for him, however. President Bush had a Wilsonian approach to international relations and saw selfdetermination of the German people in a Western democracy as a longterm goal of U.S. policy that could not reasonably be called into question. As with German rearmament in the 1950s, the United States downplayed historical concerns in favor of ideological advances. Furthermore, Kohl was not the driving force pushing for quick unification; the German people were. In November over 130,000 people moved to the West, and the pace continued.72 In March 1990 elections

UNITING GERMANY, 1985–1990

99

in the East brought the pro-unification eastern CDU to power, a surprising result as most expected the more hesitant SPD to win.73 As East Germans continued to flock toward the West, the situation seemed untenable, and unification of some sort would be the only way to stabilize things on the ground. The key would be Gorbachev, and here Kohl and Genscher were able to reap the rewards of the trust and mutual friendship that had developed over the three previous years. The task for Kohl was to determine a process whereby negotiations between the victors of World War II could lead to an agreement that would grant Germany full sovereignty, end Soviet occupation in East Germany, and settle the question of whether Germany could belong in NATO. Kohl accomplished this by a mix of personal diplomacy and compromise designed to assure both the United States and the Soviet Union that they had nothing to lose and a lot to gain through German unification. Lacking the historical bias of Thatcher and Mitterrand, the U.S. policy establishment recognized Germany as a loyal partner whom they could trust. U.S. support in principle for German unity was tempered by the fear that moving too fast would force the Soviets to react, perhaps clamping down on reforms in the rest of Eastern Europe. Early sounds out of the Soviet Union were negative, as Gorbachev stressed that premature moves toward unification would be dangerous. If Kohl were to succeed in unifying Germany under his watch, he would have to convince Gorbachev. 74 In December 1989 only the Germans and Americans seemed to believe unification was a potential positive outcome, as the British, French, and Soviets reprised their alliance against Germany, albeit in a very different political environment. In 1990, things would change dramatically. Gorbachev’s early opposition to unification reflected loyalty to the SED regime led by Egon Krenz and later Hans Modrow, as well as concern for a possible backlash at home. By the start of 1990, change had swept through Eastern Europe, with every Soviet client state falling to domestic protests, most of them peaceful. That changed conditions by presenting Gorbachev with a fait accompli; he could not realistically threaten a crackdown in the East, so his position was fundamentally weakened. Beyond that, the economy at home was worsening, causing more dissatisfaction than even the loss of Eastern Europe could inspire. Nonetheless, if Western allies like France and Great Britain feared a unified Germany, the Soviet Union had even more reason to worry. Not only had the two wars devastated Russia, but lacking forty years of a security community and the economic links of the EC, the Soviets had

100

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

every reason to be more adamant than Thatcher or Mitterrand that unification would be a mistake. Thatcher and Mitterrand counted on that, as they knew only Gorbachev could stand in the way of German unification, given the U.S. sympathy to Kohl’s plans. Among their concerns, the Soviets cited Kohl’s unwillingness to speak out forcefully against attempts to expand German borders into areas of Poland that had been taken in 1945. Although the borders had been guaranteed by the Moscow treaty, the Soviets thought Kohl’s hesitance was a sign that Germans might try to alter the post–World War II system. Kohl’s rationale had not wanted to anger the right wing in an election year. Even in a time of historical international change, the consummate provincial politician focused on playing to the domestic crowd. As developments in Germany seemed to point toward unification, politically it appeared elusive. In January 1990, the allies of World War II decided that they needed to talk about the matter officially, as legally the four powers still held sway over the final disposition of German sovereignty. The Germans did not want to be left out of these talks, however, and protested any sort of conference on the future of Germany that did not include the Germans. The result was the two-plus-four talks, with the “two” representing the two German states, and the “four” being the four World War II victors.75 The Soviets had to face the grim reality that economics, rather than power politics, was forcing their hand. East Germany was not viable as a state without massive help from the outside, and the Soviet Union was in no position to provide that assistance. West Germany was, but such economic links would only increase the trend toward unification and give the West Germans leverage. The Soviets’ best hope was to work with the Modrow government on a plan that envisioned a confederation developed over time, which would be neutral. When the March elections brought the Christian Democrats to power in the East, the best Moscow could do was either block unification, and risk alienating a Germany Gorbachev needed help from in order to save his economy, or give in and try to cut the best deal possible. Angela Stent notes that Gorbachev agreed in principle to German unification in February 1990, as the Soviets simply could not afford to maintain the East German state.76 That was not yet an agreement for a unified Germany in NATO, however. The path to unification within NATO was not easy, and without strong U.S. backing the Germans would likely have had to accept some sort of confederation with residual limitations on German sovereignty in the East. President Bush, however, had decided that a unified, sover-

UNITING GERMANY, 1985–1990

101

eign state in NATO was the preferred outcome, and for much of early 1990 Kohl let the United States take the diplomatic lead while at home the Germans made unification virtually unavoidable. The Kohl government negotiated with the East German government of Christian Democrat Lothar de Maziere to eliminate the East German mark, with East German citizens receiving an extremely generous exchange rate. Wages, salaries, and pensions were converted on a 1:1 ratio, with debts at 2:1, and foreign accounts at 3:1. Each citizen could convert up to 4,000 marks at the 1:1 ratio, with senior citizens able to convert 6,000. Any excess money was traded at a 2:1 ratio. The conversion took place on July 1, 1990, making the deutschmark the currency for both Germanies. It was a much more generous offer than the real value of the East German mark should have allowed, chosen for political rather than economic reasons. 77 Bundesbank president Karl Otto Pöhl resigned in protest of what many economists thought an economically foolish generosity. Yet with a common currency, it was clear there was no holding back unification; essentially, Kohl turned to the primacy of economics to make unification unavoidable, forcing the hands of the diplomats. By July it was not a question of if Germany would unite but of when and how. Mitterrand and Thatcher’s skepticism could not withstand U.S. support for unification, especially in the context of West Germany as a forty-year ally, not a recently defeated enemy. Thatcher shifted her focus to keeping a united Germany fully in NATO, while Mitterrand turned toward European integration as a way to contain potential future German ambitions. In Paris in April 1990, Kohl and Mitterrand said that German and European unification were two sides of the same coin.78 In October of the same year the Franco-German brigade, proposed in 1987, became operational with 4,200 members.79 Perhaps one reason Mitterrand moved more quickly than Thatcher to accept unification was that in France public opinion was solidly in favor of Germany uniting, with 61 percent supportive and only 15 percent opposed. In Britain the numbers were 45 percent yes and 30 percent no.80 Gorbachev was still the unknown factor, and despite all the goodwill that had been generated between Germany and the Soviet Union before November 1989, the Soviets were adamant that it would be dangerous to rush to unity or expand NATO to include former East Germany. It is possible that Gorbachev’s position reflected less a personal opposition to German unification than either a bargaining tactic or his weakened political position at home. Zelikow and Rice put the

102

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

breakthrough in Gorbachev’s position in late May when, during his visit to the United States, Gorbachev replied in the affirmative to a query by President Bush that the Helsinki (CSCE) agreement of 1975 meant that a fully sovereign state would be able to choose its alliance preference. They describe Gorbachev’s aides as shocked and visibly upset by the admission, one that Gorbachev repeated, making it clear he knew what he had said.81 Whatever the case, after Gorbachev regained the political upper hand at home in July at the Soviet Communist Party conference, he met with Kohl at his dacha near Stravopol in the Caucasus. Shumaker notes that from February 1990 on, Gorbachev and Shevardnadze were formulating the Soviet approach to German unification, cutting out the “Germanists” like Valentin Falin and others who had hoped to get a specific peace treaty that included provisions limiting German behavior.82 Kohl expected tough negotiations, but Gorbachev, focused on domestic economic problems and needing support from the West, had apparently decided that it would be best to foster good will and not stand in the way of an unstoppable train. Gorbachev gave up opposition to full German membership in NATO, though troops would not be deployed in former East Germany until Soviet troops withdrew. The Soviets had three years to withdraw, and the Germans would pay the costs of their resettlement. This would be a significant burden on the Soviets. Not only did they have 11,500 kilometers of private road in East Germany, but they had 550,000 people living and working there, nearly 400,000 of them military. Add 4,100 tanks, 1,300 planes, and 7,900 armored units, and the task of leaving was daunting.83 Germany agreed to limit its military to 370,000 (meaning a cut of about 300,000 from the existing strength of the East German and West German armies combined), eschew any biological, chemical, or nuclear weapons, and abide by the accords setting in place post–World War II borders. There was nothing in the agreement at all contrary to German wishes. They had clearly gotten everything they had hoped for. On August 23, 1990 the East German Volkskammer voted to have the five states of East Germany become part of the Federal Republic of Germany on October 3, 1990, at midnight. The unification treaty was signed on August 31, and on September 12, 1990, the four powers signed over their residual postwar rights, allowing Germany to regain sovereignty. Adenauer’s Westpolitik had combined with Brandt’s Ostpolitik to achieve everything either of them wanted: prosperity, integration with the West, peaceful unification, and an end to the Cold War. On

UNITING GERMANY, 1985–1990

103

November 9, 1990, one year to the day after the fall of the wall, the Soviets and Germans signed the first bilateral treaty of the unified German state, a friendship treaty with the Soviet Union. Nine months after unification, in the summer of 1991, the Bundestag took the final act of unification, moving the capital from Bonn to Berlin to symbolize the birth of a new, united Germany. The decision was not an easy one to make; the move would be expensive, and many felt that given the stability and success of the Bonn Republic, a move to Berlin was misguided. Most government officials liked living in Bonn and dreaded a move to the expensive and distant eastern metropole. Others argued that Berlin was the true historical capital of Germany, and it should once again be made the capital to show that the long, painful, period of division had ended. Furthermore, there was a need to express solidarity with the East, and with the capital in Berlin, German leaders would have to live the unification rather than observe it from the comfort of the banks of the Rhein. Deputies were allowed to vote their conscience on this issue, and an emotional appeal by CDU fraction chief Wolfgang Schäuble helped Berlin win in a very close vote. The price of victory was the need to compromise. Many ministries and lower level bureaucracies would stay in Bonn, and the parliament would not be moved to the Reichstag until the end of the decade. In Bonn many could not believe that they were losing their status as Germany’s capital. In a humorous protest, some local bakeries changed the name of their Berliner, a type of jelly pastry, to Bonner, and for years weekly Thursday night protests continued. As one advocate of Bonn told me at one of those protests, “This means that we will have an entirely new Republic, a Berlin Republic. We’re sacrificing the stability we’ve worked so hard to establish since the war.” A Successful Foreign Policy

Germany’s success at peacefully overcoming its division was the result of a forty-year policy of reconciliation and trust-building with both the West and the East, a policy made difficult by the fact that Germany was part of an alliance in conflict with the Soviet Union. The German question had posited Germany as too big to be satisfied with a constrained role in Europe, but too small to dominate. As a West German state, the leaders had redefined the way they approached international relations.

104

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

Rather than seeing it as a zero-sum game where Germany would use its size and clout to expand power, they reconceptualized it as a positivesum game where cooperation and collaboration could bring gains for everyone. In Chapter 3 I argued that this new foreign policy identity reflected more than a change in tactics but the development of a postsovereign foreign policy identity. In this chapter I have demonstrated that this style was very effective for achieving desired outcomes in international relations, suggesting that skepticism of multilateralism as a policy path likely to work to accomplish practical results is misplaced. Rather, German policy made the outcome not only easier to achieve but also one that could be reached peacefully. Essential to this was Adenauer’s Westpolitik. Integration into Western institutions was not just a strategy to regain room to maneuver but amounted to a complete transformation of German attitudes toward politics and government. Gone were the “Eastern” ideas of authoritarianism, a mystical identity associated with the nation, and the statist concept of the individual having identity only through its role in the collective. Germans embraced fully the liberalism of the West, in terms of both civil rights and market economics. To be sure, the “social market economy” posited a mix of socialist and capitalist values much less liberal than the kind of capitalism in the United States. Rather than being a residual of the old authoritarian strain of thought, however, the system still reflects Western ideals, and even the SPD exhibited less statism in many of its policies than either the Left or Right in France. Like converts to a new religion, the Germans embraced Western values to the point that they redefined Germany’s identity, interests, and goals. Germany was part of a Western community of values, and its identity merged with others in the effort to build a united Europe and a solid North Atlantic alliance. Its interests were tied to those values, especially the notion that free trade was a path to mutual prosperity. The goals of the state were to pursue Germany’s interests by seeing the development of cooperative and effective institutions as a goal in and of itself, not merely a means to achieve benefit for the nation. National interest is still pursued, but done so using soft power within cooperative institutional frameworks. Certainly negotiation and debate within the institutions necessarily would reflect the particular interests of the states involved, but those interests were second to the primacy of building cooperative institutions. Also required for the success of German policy was Brandt’s Ostpolitik. Germany could not simply push aside the Eastern question

UNITING GERMANY, 1985–1990

105

either in regard to the GDR or Germany’s “natural” interests in East Europe. Without Ostpolitik, the events of 1989 may never have happened, as East Germany would not have built so many connections with the West through citizen exchanges and official government cooperation, and the idea of a common identity might not have been kept alive. Eighty-five percent of the East Germans were able to receive Western television signals (only in the southeast, around Dresden, was it impossible to receive Western television), and millions of West Germans had visited the East thanks to Brandt’s agreements, generating contact between the two Germanies.84 Without the treaties of the Brandt era, the Soviets would not have moved away from their fear of German revanchism, and it may have been impossible for Gorbachev to accept the kind of agreement that ultimately took shape. Especially when Germany continued to work with the East despite the harsh rhetoric in the early 1980s between the USSR and the United States, Germany proved itself more friendly to Soviet concerns than other Western states were, a relationship enhanced in the late 1980s by Gorbachev’s closeness to Bonn. Such a policy, while worrying Thatcher and Mitterrand (who feared another Rapallo), succeeded precisely because the Western integration unflinchingly pursued by continuous German governments made the threat of Germany’s eastward tilt minimal. In fact, Germany’s policy style was reflected in the rhetoric and policy values ultimately embraced by Gorbachev when he tried to overcome the East-West divide to create a common European home. It is a delightful and perhaps instructional irony of history that Germany achieved its goals by rejecting a hard-nosed power politics and focused instead on peaceful cooperation. The Cold War could have ended with a bang; Soviet mistrust could have caused them to do whatever possible to hold on to the East, fearing German revanchism. Instead, a peaceful transformation achieved what would have seemed to have been a utopian fantasy at the beginning of the decade. At the time of unification no one really knew what to expect in the post–Cold War era. Would Germany try to dominate the EC? Perhaps the post-sovereign foreign policy identity exhibited by Germany was only a short-term reflection of Cold War constraints; perhaps once freed of these constraints Germany would develop a traditional foreign policy identity, built on power politics and national interest. Even if Germany’s new identity was real, could German foreign policy remain effective in a world populated by states which do not share the post-

106

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

sovereign ideals exhibited by the Germans? Would, as Alexander Wendt’s theory suggests, the system supervene on the German state and force Germany to adopt a traditional approach to policy?85 Such supervenience would result not from force by other states but simply because German policy as defined before 1990 would not be able to function effectively after unification. Well over a decade since unification, we can start to answer those questions, considering how the unified German state has dealt with issues of continued European integration, war, and demands Germany play a more active military role, and, finally, the challenges of facing globalization and international terrorism. Notes

1. This view persisted up until just before the events of fall 1989. In July and early August 1989 I interviewed experts on German foreign policy both from political parties and at German universities, and I asked about the possibility of German unification. I felt as if I were almost throwing away a question, since the prospect seemed so distant. The answers were all of the sort that either dismissed the likelihood of unification or saw it decades in the future. 2. Shumaker, Gorbachev and the German Question, p. 11. 3. Stent, Russia and Germany Reborn, p. 31. 4. Cooper, Paradoxes of Peace, p. 213. 5. Stent, Russia and Germany Reborn, p. 44. 6. Castells, “The Information Economy and the New International Division of Labor,” p. 16. 7. Sazama, “International Capital Flows.” 8. Preeg, Traders in a Brave New World. 9. Gordon, “The Franco-German Security Partnership,” p. 145. 10. Bertram, “Strategic Defense and the Western Alliance.” 11. Friend, “U.S. Policy Towards Franco-German Cooperation,” p. 165. 12. “SDI Vertrag ermöglicht Einfluß auf Entwicklung der Militärstrategie,” Süddeutsche Zeitung, April 18, 1986. 13. Gordon, “The Franco-German Security Partnership,” p. 145. 14. Cited in Sperling, “The German Quest for Geo-economic Security Since 1945,” p. 289. 15. Gordon, “The Franco-German Security Partnership,” p. 146. 16. Perhaps miffed by the pace of German unification and France’s inability to guide NATO strategy, Mitterrand threatened to withdraw French forces completely from Germany in 1990 at the NATO summit that May. This threat was quietly rescinded and cooperation continued to deepen. 17. Gordon, France, Germany and the Western Alliance, p. 23. 18. McCarthy, “France Looks at Germany,” p. 51. 19. Gordon, “The Franco-German Security Partnership,” p. 150. 20. See Newsweek, October 27, 1986. As quoted in Stent, Russia and

UNITING GERMANY, 1985–1990

107

Germany Reborn, p. 65, Kohl said, “I don’t consider him to be a liberal. He’s a modern Communist leader who understands PR. Goebbels, who was one of those responsible for the crimes of the Hitler era, was also a PR expert.” 21. Genscher, Wir wollen ein Europäisches Deutschland, p. 135. 22. For a post-hoc discussion of the importance of the visit, see Rexin, “Der Besuch September 1987.” 23. “Militärs warnen Gorbatschow vor Ungleichgewicht,” Die Welt, December 27, 1988. 24. LaFeber, America, Russia, and the Cold War, 1945–2000, p. 339. 25. Szabo, The Changing Politics of German Security, p. 48. 26. Thatcher, The Downing Street Years, pp. 781–786. 27. Allin, “Germany Looks at France,” p. 37. 28. Hanrieder, Germany, America, and Europe, p. 365. 29. This was not an argument limited to the Left. Rudolf Augstein, publisher of Der Spiegel, explicitly made the argument in an essay in the magazine’s May 1, 1989, issue. 30. Der Spiegel, May 8, 1989, p. 22. 31. Thatcher, The Downing Street Years, p. 787. 32. Kettenacker, “Britain and German Unification,” p. 104. 33. Meyer, “The Sources and Prospects of Gorbachev’s New Political Thinking on Security,” pp. 124–163. 34. Friend, “U.S. Policy Towards Franco-German Cooperation,” p. 167. 35. Quoted from The Daily Express, June 14, 1989, in Kettenacker, “Britain and German Unification,” p. 106. 36. Ironically, given the fear Germans had of Reagan’s foreign policy in the early 1980s, Reagan and his secretary of state, George Shultz, also responded in a similar manner to Gorbachev, with Reagan halting plans for continued massive defense spending increases and showing a willingness to reach unprecedented agreements with the Soviets. While President Reagan has been viewed by many as a traditional hawk, his foreign policy views were not dominated by academic realism but a Wilsonian style of idealism, focused less on power politics than certain basic principles. As soon as Reagan believed that Gorbachev honestly wanted to change his system, Reagan was willing to change his policy significantly. In that sense, Reagan’s idealism had more in common with the German perspective than first meets the eye, even if he lacked the kind of institutional post-sovereign foreign policy values of Germany. See Shultz, Triumph and Turmoil, especially pp. 576–577, 599–607, 755–780, and 1101–1106. 37. Gorbachev, For a Common European Home. See also Gorbachev, Perestroika. 38. There are numerous detailed accounts of the meetings and negotiations leading to unification. Some of the best include Teltschik, 329 Tage; Jarausch, The Rush to German Unity; Zelikow and Rice, Germany Unified and Europe Transformed; Hamalainen, Uniting Germany; as well as personal memoirs from leading figures in the transition such as Thatcher, The Downing Street Years; Kohl, Ich Wollte Deutschlands Einheit; Genscher, Erinnerungen; and Gorbachev, Erinnerungen.

108

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

39. Initially, observers were worried that this might push aside the importance of Kristallnacht for German history, a concern stated by Gilman, “German Reunification and the Jews,” p. 176. Since then, November 9 has not been celebrated as a major holiday in Germany, and Kristallnacht remains an important symbol. In Dresden, the new synagogue was opened on November 9, 2001, with a weekend open to the public so Dresden citizens could come and learn about the synagogue and its meaning. 40. Plock, East German and West German Relations and the Fall of the GDR, p. 51. 41. Sommer, “Deutschland: Gedoppelt, nicht getrennt.” 42. Karaganov, “Implications of German Unification for the Former Soviet Union,” p. 337. 43. Plock, East German and West German Relations and the Fall of the GDR, p. 151. 44. For a good account of these developments, see Shumaker, Gorbachev and the German Question, especially pp. 71–100. 45. Dennis, German Democratic Republic, p. 200. 46. Stent, Russia and Germany Reborn, p. 57. 47. Der Spiegel, May 7, 1990, p. 66. 48. Based on the famous Frank Sinatra song “My Way.” For a Soviet view on the changes, see Shevardnadze, The Future Belongs to Freedom. 49. Abel, The Shattered Bloc, p. 114. 50. Der Spiegel, June 19, 1989, p. 31. 51. Der Spiegel, July 31, 1989. 52. Plock, East German and West German Relations and the Fall of the GDR, p. 148. 53. Bruns, “Normalisierung oder Wiedervereinigung,” pp. 3–4. 54. Brockmann, “Introduction: The Reunification Debate,” p. 4. 55. Stent, Russia and Germany Reborn, p. 74. 56. Der Spiegel, September 4, 1989, p. 16. 57. Hoagland, “Europe’s Destiny.” 58. Der Spiegel, September 18, 1989, p. 16. 59. David Shumaker notes various disagreements about whether the comment “life punishes those who arrive too late” was aimed primarily at Honecker and the SED or reflected a general view of the reform process and perhaps even Gorbachev’s policies at home. See Shumaker, Gorbachev and the German Question, p. 112. 60. Plock, East German and West German Relations and the Fall of the GDR, p. 80. 61. Barbara Supp, “Die Machen Uns Fertig,” Der Spiegel, November 4, 1996, p. 91. 62. Brockmann, “Introduction: The Reunification Debate,” p. 15. 63. Szabo, The Diplomacy of German Unification, p. 114. 64. “Zehn Punkte Program zur Überwindung der Teilung Deutschlands und Europas,” Europa Archiv, no. 24, 1989. 65. Margaret Thatcher complained in her memoirs that “I learned that without any previous consultation with his allies and in clear breach of at least

UNITING GERMANY, 1985–1990

109

the spirit of the Paris summit Chancellor Kohl had set out in a speech to the Bundestag a ‘ten point’ plan” (The Downing Street Years, p. 795). 66. Ibid., p. 398. 67. Zelikow and Rice, Germany Unified and Europe Transformed, p. xiii. Gregor Gysi, SED party head after the fall of the wall and later head of the post-SED Party of Democratic Socialism (PDS), would also say in an interview used in the German television movie Deutschlandspiel that Mitterrand told East German leaders in early 1990 that he feared a revision to pre–World War I circumstances should Germany reunify. 68. Allin, “Germany Looks at France,” pp. 39–40. 69. Hanrieder, Germany, America, and Europe, pp. 6–11. 70. Kettenacker, “Britain and German Unification,” pp. 112–113. Kettenacker notes that Thatcher did not reflect the entire British spectrum of political opinion. He quotes Dennis Healey (Labour) as stating that Germany is “By far the least nationalistic of all the larger European powers. . . . The one thing that could revive nationalism in Germany today would be an attempt by the former occupying powers to continue to act as occupying powers. That is the danger that the Prime Minister’s recent behavior has aroused” (pp. 116–117). Even in the famous Chequers meeting on March 24, when Thatcher gathered historians who claimed that German character included a “strong inclination to self-pity, a longing to be liked, angst, aggressiveness, assertiveness, bullying, egotism, inferiority complex, sentimentality,” historians tried to convince her she was wrong to oppose unification (p. 121). 71. Gordon, “The Franco-German Security Partnership,” p. 131. 72. Stent, Russia and Germany Reborn, p. 99. 73. The shock of that result cannot be overstated. Nearly everyone expected a victory for the SPD, which looked for a slower process of unification. The eastern CDU with its ally the Democratic Social Union (DSU) argued for a quickened pace of unification. The Social Democrats preferred using Article 149 of the German constitution, which required the creation of a new constitution for a new German state; the Christian Democrats wanted to go through Article 23, already used in the case of the Saarland, which allowed other states to petition to join the existing Federal Republic of Germany. The CDU received 40.8 percent of the vote, which, combined with the 6.3 percent of its ally the DSU, put them in a commanding position. The SPD received a disappointing 21.9 percent, while the PDS, still closely identified with the old SED, managed 16.4 percent of the vote. The League of Free Democrats (allied with the FDP) got 5.3 percent. CDU dominance in the eastern Volkskammer meant that Chancellor Kohl could pretty much dictate the pace and terms of unification. 74. Zelikow and Rice report that Canadian prime minister Brian Mulroney had told President Bush that Gorbachev was opposed to any talk of German unification, attributing to Gorbachev the remark that “people have died from eating unripened fruit.” However, by the time of the Malta summit the Soviet leader appeared to have softened his stance, suggesting to the Bush administration that his position was malleable. Zelikow and Rice, Germany Unified and Europe Transformed, pp. 128–135. 75. Stent notes that originally these were to be the four-plus-two talks, but

110

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

Genscher wanted the order switched to show that Germany was the main actor. Stent, Russia and Germany Reborn, p. 115. 76. Ibid., p. 105. 77. See Kreile, “The Political Economy of the New Germany,” pp. 68–75. 78. Allin, “Germany Looks at France,” p. 42. 79. Gordon, “The Franco-German Security Partnership,” p. 150. 80. McCarthy, “France Looks at Germany,” p. 63. 81. Zelikow and Rice, Germany Unified and Europe Transformed, pp. 275–279. 82. Shumaker, Gorbachev and the German Question, p. 136. Shumaker also explains the Soviet policy toward Germany as a generational change in thinking personified by Gorbachev, the first leader who came from the postStalin generation: “Although the pace of German unification forced Moscow to move more quickly than it might have liked, the re-creation of a united German state was no longer viewed as inherently threatening. Moscow acknowledged the existence of economic interdependence and accepted the constraints this placed on autonomy because it considered this a requirement of the modern age. Gorbachev’s encouragement of a broader economic role for Bonn in promoting Soviet economic reform illustrated this belief. Ideas motivated Gorbachev’s policies toward West Germany, up to and including unification” (p. 147). 83. Wallander, Mortal Friends, Best Enemies, pp. 71–72. 84. Stent, Russia and Germany Reborn, p. 30. 85. Wendt, Social Theory of International Politics, pp. 155–156, 338.

Five Uniting Europe: Germany and Integration, 1985–2002

grabbed the headlines in 1989–1990, but the process of unifying Europe may in the long run be just as meaningful for the international system. After the crisis-ridden early 1980s, few expected the pace toward European integration to increase. In 1986 the Single European Act put forth the goal of creating a “Europe without frontiers” by the end of 1992, and in December 1991 the Maastricht treaty set the goal of establishing a monetary union by 1999. By late 2002 the bare bones of a future European Union constitution were being discussed. By embracing monetary union and efforts to expand political integration, Maastricht meant that the European Community became the European Union (EU), reflecting the fact that while the EU had not become a sovereign state or a “United States of Europe,” it had achieved a level of integration and supranational policymaking that made it more than just a forum for sovereign cooperation. The European Union is a new type of political structure, not a sovereign state but more than an international organization. The progress made toward this end after 1989 surprised many who thought that Germany would cease its efforts to build a truly supranational EU and instead focus on becoming a great power of Europe, shifting its gaze from the West to the East. If letting Eastern Europe go was a litmus test for Gorbachev’s commitment to “new thinking,” Germany’s Europapolitik after 1990 was a test of whether Germany was going to take a nationalist path after unification. Across the political spectrum, German elites not only share the goal of European integration but have very similar attitudes toward it.1 In this chapter, I argue that Germany’s continued pursuit of European inteTHE FALL OF THE BERLIN WALL AND THE UNIFICATION OF GERMANY

111

112

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

gration provides evidence of the resilience and persistence of the postsovereign norms that created Germany’s foreign policy identity. The European Union has the potential to reflect these norms as well, creating not a European superstate, but rather a new kind of political organization. Germany could play a role to expand post-sovereign norms to the rest of Europe, perhaps creating a new model of how interests are pursued in the era of globalization. The European Community in the Mid-1980s

In the early 1980s, those wanting a supranational approach to European integration, stung by the intergovernmental approaches that dominated in the 1970s, finally recognized that the European Monetary System (EMS) and efforts to overcome the budgetary crises involving Britain were ultimately good for integration, rather than a sacrifice of the supranational goal. Instead of moving the EC toward a Gaullist Europe des patries, it allowed political leaders to see integration as less of a threat to their power. Margaret Thatcher, writing in her memoirs after she left power, noted: “Looking back, it is now possible to see the period of my second term as Prime Minister as that in which the European Community subtly but surely shifted its direction away from being a Community of open trade, light regulation and freely cooperating sovereign nation states towards statism and centrism. I can only say that it did not seem like that at the time. . . . It was clear to me from the start that there were two competing visions of Europe: but I felt that our vision of a free enterprise Europe des patries was predominant.”2 There are a variety of explanations for how the community managed to shift from crisis and “eurosclerosis” in the late 1970s and early 1980s to one of unprecedented movement toward a new kind of union by the end of the century. The support of the business community across Europe was essential for its success. So was German policy.3 As originally conceived by the Treaties of Rome, the European Commission is the executive body of the EC, made up of commissioners appointed by the member states. Despite being appointees of member states, their allegiance is to the EU, not toward advancing the interests of their home state. In that sense they are to be a supranational rather than an intergovernmental organization. The Commission works closely with the Council of Ministers, a body originally seen as something akin to a legislature, which, unlike the Commission, votes accord-

UNITING EUROPE, 1985–2002

113

ing to the wishes of the member states.4 Each state sends one minister to meetings of the Council of Ministers. Who is sent depends on the issue; for example, discussions on the Common Agriculture Policy (CAP) would involve the agriculture ministers. Decisions are made through weighted voting.5 The council is aided by the Committee of Permanent Representatives (COREPER), which can be described as the lifeblood of the European Union’s bureaucracy, whose role it is to communicate between the Commission and member states in order to assure regulations and rules are understood the same across the community, and to troubleshoot for problems various countries might have with particular rules.6 The European Parliament (EP) was appointed by the member states until 1979. Since 1979, when the first EP elections were held, deputies have been selected in national elections in each member state every five years. In the early to mid-1980s the EP was still primarily a body to debate possible directions for the EC, but it had little effective power. Finally, the European Court of Justice (ECJ) rules on cases involving EU law and regulations and has emerged as an effective and respected arbiter of disputes, with countries following ECJ rulings even if they require substantial changes to national law.7 Most integrationists adhered to a neofunctionalist theory of European integration, which expected the nation-state slowly to give way to supranational organizations through a process known as “spillover.” As publics enjoyed the economic benefits of integration, they would demand further integrative moves, allowing the EU to evolve gradually into an actual political union. Throughout the 1960s De Gaulle was the integrationists’ nemesis, as he was loathe to give up any sense of national sovereignty.8 He espoused an approach known as intergovernmentalism, arguing that Europe should reflect negotiated cooperation between sovereign states rather than a move to integrate into a larger hole. The formation in 1974 of the European Council, comprising the heads of government of the member states, illustrated the adoption of the intergovernmental approach, making the Commission second to the European Council in the EC governing structure. Ironically, intergovernmentalism turned out to work better as a way to achieve integration than as a way to defend national sovereignty. As noted in Chapter 3, Franco-German cooperation, initiated by Valery Giscard d’Estaing and Helmut Schmidt, relied on the intergovernmental approach to get agreement to form the EMS.9 Summits were also the only way that debates about the CAP and British budget contributions

114

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

could have been dealt with effectively in the early 1980s, slowly convincing supranationalists that the European Council was not so bad after all: Nothing succeeds like success. By 1985 this mix of supranational institutions guided (and arguably sustained) by intergovernmental cooperation seemed a precarious and sometimes incoherent mix of diverse ideals and purposes. With the EMS barely able to hang on due to divergent fiscal and monetary policies across Europe, it appeared that integration had reached a point of resistance. There were many reasons in the mid-1980s to believe the EC was not ready to move toward becoming a more integrated union.10 Even proponents of integration considered the original theory of neofunctionalism, which involved gradual increases in integration as success led to spillover in other areas, to have died.11 In the early 1980s, integration theory was considered in “collapse.”12 The bureaucracy was huge and often inefficient, most of the budget went toward the CAP, a program which nearly everyone admitted needed reform.13 The status quo could be maintained, but progress would be difficult, especially after Greece’s entry into the community in 1981, followed by the arrivals of Spain and Portugal in 1986, creating a block of poorer member states. Few expected the dramatic moves forward the late 1980s would bring. The Single European Act

A number of events and conditions in 1985 pushed the EC toward becoming the EU.14 Franco-German cooperation was an essential aspect of the shift toward stronger integration. When François Mitterrand first came to power in France in 1981, he and his Socialist Party (PS) were critical of the lack of societal transformation achieved in other states governed by allegedly socialist parties, including West Germany under Helmut Schmidt.15 Retaining the goals of nationalization of industries and a redistribution of economic power, Mitterrand’s government, which included members of the French Communist Party (PCF), embarked on a radical reform program that scared the business community in France and led to capital flight and a near collapse of the French economy. The result was that by 1984 Mitterrand performed a volteface and moved toward a policy of austerity and economic openness. The change meant that French monetary policy would start emulating the German model of working to keep inflation down, and in general

UNITING EUROPE, 1985–2002

115

the European Left moved away from opposing a “pro-business” model of integration. That is why Thatcher could think things were moving her way: the Left was in retreat, and market economies dominated. What Thatcher did not realize, and what Kohl grasped, is that this shift actually worked in favor of a closer European Union. The European Parliament, having been directly elected for the first time in 1979, also became a breeding ground for new ideas about how to proceed, and the impetus for what would become the Single European Act developed there through the Spinelli initiative.16 While 1989 dominates the history books, 1985 set the stage for change in Europe. Gorbachev came to power, initiating the chain of events that would lead to the end of the Cold War; the impact of the information and communication revolution was increasing trade and interdependence; and the Single European Act (SEA) was first proposed in a white paper called Completing the Internal Market. The paper suggested that the next step of integration was to remove nontariff barriers to trade in order to make markets more free. Margaret Thatcher considered the document to be in favor of deregulation and capitalism, and she supported it; after all, the document was the result of work by a committee chaired by her own appointee to the Commission, Lord Cockfield.17 In retrospect, it was a radical move toward a real union. To complete the internal market, 300 national laws had to be harmonized between states (by the 1990s that number would rise to well over a thousand). If that could be done, there would be no need to check trucks and trains at borders, and goods could flow smoothly across the European Community.18 The goal was to achieve this coordination of laws by the end of 1992. Furthermore, the act increased the scope of qualified majority voting (requiring a little over two-thirds of the vote to make a decision), limiting the unanimity criteria to issues of accession of new members, statements about principles informing new policies, and certain border control issues. The European Council agreed on the SEA at its Luxembourg summit of December 1985, hosted by future Commission president Jacques Santer. Germany strongly supported the act, as Kohl and Mitterrand resumed the Franco-German cooperative drive to move Europe forward.19 As Germany pursued increased European integration, with Kohl generally letting others take the lead publicly and using German influence to support the process, there were areas where the Germans were willing to step out and support their own interests. Usually it was through the exercise of soft power within EC institutions. At times

116

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

though, Germany took a unilateral approach, especially on issues involving the Bundesbank and monetary policy. German politicians could safely say these actions were beyond their control, in the hands of a Bundesbank that saw preventing inflation as its main purpose.20 High interest rates in Germany were perceived as a nuisance by other European states, especially France, as Mitterrand tried to pressure the Germans to lower their rates.21 German politicians were more sympathetic than the Bundesbank governors. In January 1987, for example, the Germans revalued the deutschmark by 3 percent, while France did not change the valuation of the franc, again forcing Germany to bear the largest cost of the revaluation. The reason was a German desire to assure that France continue its policy convergence with Germany and not be pushed away by the Bundesbank’s tight monetary policies.22 The Germans often found themselves aligned with the British in opposition to increases in the EC budget, especially as Germany, like the UK, was hit hardest by increased burdens. On both issues—the autonomy of central bank policy and the desire to reduce the budgetary pressures—one could easily have imagined German policy aligning with the British against the French. One reason De Gaulle had feared British entry into the EC was precisely that possibility: France could do little to avoid the pull of an Anglo-American-German Atlanticist alliance. However, as much as the Germans may have sympathized with the British views on the CAP and the budget, and as much as they worked within the EC to push policies in a direction they desired, these wishes were always second to the need to promote and expand European integration. That meant that the best way for the French to influence German policy was to connect it to plans to expand the EC in some way. As Helmut Kohl noted in January 1988, celebrating the twenty-fifth anniversary of the Elysée Treaty: “The Germans and French must together build the hard core of a European Union—a union that sees itself not merely as a common market, but as a community of values, a democracy based on freedom, the rule of law and the social responsibility of the state.”23 German Unification and the European Union

As the SEA was completed, many Europeans recognized that in order to achieve the full benefit of a single market and compete with the United States in an era when mergers and multinational corporate investment

UNITING EUROPE, 1985–2002

117

were ballooning, a European monetary union (EMU) would be necessary. In 1986 Giscard and Schmidt started the Committee for European Monetary Union, enlisting bankers, businesspeople, and politicians in an effort to move from the EMS to their long-term goal, an EMU. As Schmidt later noted, the Kohl-Mitterrand tandem worked well, but it had chosen to neglect monetary union; Schmidt and Giscard saw it as the best way to continue the integration process.24 The rapid fluctuations of the exchange-rate mechanism (ERM) in the early 1980s had given way to more consistency across European economies in both monetary policy and inflation rates, making a monetary union at the very least thinkable. Many Europeans were concerned that the EMS had given the Bundesbank far too much control over the monetary policies of all European states, making it difficult especially for France to achieve desired employment levels. A European monetary union would require a European rather than German central bank, and presumably the French could have considerable influence on the makeup of that bank. Predictably, the Bundesbank saw no need for monetary union, and in Germany the success of the deutschmark as a world currency meant that the public was predisposed to oppose giving up the symbol of their economic miracle, having achieved what Jürgen Habermas called a kind of “deutschmark nationalism.”25 In the summer of 1988 political clout on the issue of the EMU rested more in Frankfurt (home of the Bundesbank) than in Bonn, as Bundesbank president Karl Otto Pöhl stated that any European central bank would have to be in essence a big Bundesbank. Meanwhile, Mitterrand supported a “European bank of central banks” that would have much less clout. All agreed that any such entity was a long way off.26 In June 1989 at the Madrid summit of the European Council the leaders (with the exception of Margaret Thatcher) agreed on an intergovernmental conference to plan implementation of a monetary union.27 Thatcher opposed monetary union, political union, and a European central bank, dismissing such talk by saying “you are talking about some airy fairy concept which will never come in my life.”28 Many monetary plans had floundered between their proposal and actualization, and it is unclear how the EMU plan would have fared absent the events of 1989 and 1990. German unification added a new dimension to the process of European Union, speeding it up rather than, as some realists expected, slowing it down. German policy, especially after October 3, 1990, might have, if defined purely by national interest, embraced Thatcher’s desire for a

118

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

free market Europe lacking strong institutional regulations. If Germany had wanted to spread its influence into Eastern Europe, to use its position as the largest and most prosperous continental European state to enhance its role in the world outside of the EC, that route might have been appealing. That, however, was never an option for Helmut Kohl. Kohl realized it was important to avoid creating the impression Germany was out to expand its power or undertake a Sonderweg in foreign policy. Stressing the continued importance of both NATO and the European Community helped assure allies. To be sure, Germany could use a more unified Europe as a way to expand its influence, shaping policy for all of Europe rather than acting only as a medium-sized central European power. That was the fear of many skeptics in Britain who believed Germany was set to win by peace what it had lost in the war. However, that fear assumes a realist German plan to dominate Europe. In a diverse EU even the largest state cannot dominate; there are limits to what soft power can achieve. If anything, Germany was trying to expand its norms of post-sovereign foreign policy to the rest of Europe, something nationalists feared for other reasons. While Thatcher sought to bring together the old war allies to hinder or at least slow the German rush to unity, Mitterrand ultimately took a more realistic approach. Recognizing both that the United States supported Kohl and that the German people were making it virtually impossible to avoid unification, he sought to make sure Germany was so deeply integrated in Western institutions that it would be unable to undertake the kind of pre–World War I policies he feared. Mitterrand had been stung by the fact that Kohl did not consult him prior to the November 28, 1989, announcement of the ten-point plan for a German confederation, and he feared this was a sign of a new unilateral attitude in Germany.29 At the June 1990 European Council meeting in Dublin, the French and Germans together convinced the council to call another intergovernmental conference, this one on political union, designed to complement the already agreed-upon EMU conference. West Germany had always pursued political union as the desired goal of European integration, and with Germany unifying, French opposition to this goal diminished. Agreement came in December 1991 with the signing of the Treaty of European Union (TEU) at the Maastricht summit.30 The treaty created three “pillars” of European Union policy. The first pillar was monetary union, and there the treaty was most specific. Pillars two and three aimed at political union and expressed intentions more than actual poli-

UNITING EUROPE, 1985–2002

119

cy agreements. Pillar two created the Common Foreign and Security Policy (CFSP), integrating foreign policy collaboration into the institutional framework of the EU. The third pillar, Justice and Home Affairs policy, addressed issues involving cross-national law enforcement, immigration, and other legal matters that might complicate moves to political union. The ratification of the TEU also marked the point at which the European Community (EC) became the European Union (EU), a change in terminology designed to symbolize that Europe was more than just a community of sovereign states, it was forming a true union. The goals were ambitious. For monetary union, Germany got much of what it wanted—a strong European Central Bank, to be located in Frankfurt, and strict economic criteria as to who could be part of the EMU. Dyson and Featherstone call German influence in EMU negotiations “hegemonic,” even as compromises with France were necessary.31 However, most other European central banks welcomed the idea of a European Central Bank that operated much like a “big Bundesbank,” making the bank issue represent less German dominance of the process and more a convergence of perspectives. 32 The British opposed the EMU as proposed and got an opt-out option in order to prevent them from stalling the whole process. Spain and the poorer states got agreements on a cohesion fund, designed to help them pay the costs of joining a monetary system dominated by wealthier states, and France demanded and got a strict timetable for implementation of the EMU, though they would have preferred a quicker pace. The Germans were afraid the costs of unification would make it hard to achieve the criteria by the preferred French start-up date of 1997, so it was pushed ahead to 1999. The criteria were strict, but they could and would ultimately be loosened for political purposes. Budget deficits could only be 3 percent of GDP (and after implementation, budget deficits over 3 percent would mean fines for the offending state); government debt had to be below 60 percent of GDP; inflation had to be within 1.5 percent of the average of the best three performers; interest rates had to be within 2 percent of the average of the best three; and currency fluctuation had to stay within EMS guidelines of 2.5 percent for at least two years prior to union. Stage one of the treaty involved improving coordination between member states prior to the treaty coming into force in 1994, while stage two was designed to set the groundwork and final rules of the process of implementing EMU. Stage three was set for January 1, 1999, when

120

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

exchange rates would be irrevocably locked, with local currencies to be replaced over time by a new European currency, later named the euro.33 Skeptics were dubious of the ability of the EU to achieve its goals by the end of the decade, especially given the new conditions in Germany and the unknowns involving the fall of communism in Eastern Europe. Just weeks after the TEU was signed in December 1991, the Soviet Union officially ceased to exist, and Germany was already pushing the community toward recognizing Slovenia and Croatia (see Chapter 6), a sign to many that the new Germany would be much more assertive. The Bundesbank continued to raise interest rates in response to German deficit spending to pay for unification, a unilateral monetary policy at odds with the preferences of the rest of Europe. Germans were already starting to protest against losing the deutschmark, a symbol of their postwar prosperity, and in June 1992 Denmark, which had almost rejected the SEA in 1986, voted “no” on the Maastricht treaty, causing the whole process to be put in doubt.34 The test for German policy over the next decade would be how and with what methods they would try to advance the cause of union for Europe as well as for Germany. Making Monetary Union a Reality

Following the Danish referendum, the French voted in September 1992 by a very slight majority to approve Maastricht, saving the treaty. The small margin of victory fed increasing doubts throughout Europe as to whether the plan was feasible, however, especially at the pace scheduled. Tough negotiations at the summit in Edinburgh in December 1992 reached a deal that allowed Denmark to opt out of most Maastricht provisions if they so desired, making it possible for the Danes to hold another referendum in 1993, this time approving the treaty. Again the TEU was saved, but with public opinion so skeptical about the plans of their leaders even before any concrete steps had been taken, the way ahead looked difficult at best. Helmut Kohl recognized the difficulties and vowed to move forward. Visiting Paris shortly after the referendum approving the Maastricht treaty, Kohl said, “While we are both alive, François and I have to make Europe’s unification irreversible . . . our successors will never manage it.” 35 However, it was not clear that even the willpower of two of the most skillful politicians in Europe could overcome the difficulties, especially those in Germany itself. Germany’s economy was also bearing the brunt of a unification much

UNITING EUROPE, 1985–2002

121

costlier and more difficult than anticipated, and the reaction by the Bundesbank—to raise interest rates dramatically—hardly elicited confidence from the rest of Europe. The rate hikes, starting in late 1991, were aimed at the Kohl administration, whose fiscal policies, caused primarily by the cost of unification, were running up unprecedented budget deficits and GDP-debt ratios. By 1992 it was questionable if Germany could even meet the strict EMU criteria it had demanded. Industrial production in former East Germany was half of what it had been before unification, and the unemployment rate might have been well over a third of the population in the East, if not for subsidized jobs.36 In Europe, the EMS meant that high German interest rates forced other countries to either follow suit or risk currency speculation. In September 1992 the British pound and Italian lira left the EMS exchange-rate mechanism, with Spain devaluing the peseta. Finland, Sweden, and Norway had pegged their currencies to the EMS in order to prepare for eventual accession to the EU (all but Norway would join), but they were now forced to pull out. France, which had been trying to cut inflation and change the monetary policies that had led to numerous problems and devaluations in the late 1970s and early 1980s, also found their currency buckling due to all the speculation. Despite intensive intervention by the French and Germans, speculation continued into 1993. It appeared that Bundesbank policy alone might scuttle the plans for the EMU, since the EMU required a stable EMS. Eventually, the situation was stabilized through changes in the ERM and slow interest rate convergence, but the problems at the outset did not inspire confidence. Inside Germany, for the first time since the pre-Godesberg SPD, Europapolitik became a bone of contention. The Social Democrats attacked the EMU as not reflecting true German economic interests and in fact being a stealth effort to destroy the social welfare state by creating an economic union based on neoliberal capitalist theory and big business interests. The SPD took this route not so much out of a growing anti-Europe sentiment but as an opposition party. They were reflecting the general mood of a country that had become decidedly skeptical of the EMU and supportive of the deutschmark. In the mid-1990s, as the German economy was proclaimed in crisis by leading media sources and the GDP-to-public-debt ratio rose above 60 percent, it seemed that Germany would not even be able to fulfill the criteria for membership. Pressure increased in Germany to delay the EMU, but Chancellor Kohl would have none of it. Focused perhaps on making the European Union

122

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

as much a part of his legacy as German unification, Kohl refused to entertain any notion of slowing down the pace or bringing the Maastricht timetable into question, even when Edmund Stoiber, the popular head of the Bavarian CSU joined with skeptics to criticize the process. By 1995 it appeared monetary union was, if not dead, at least terminally ill. Polls in Germany showed little support for the EMU, with only a quarter of the population actively supporting it and nearly half wanting the idea scrapped.37 Up until near the end it was touch and go, with skeptics having strong reason to think that the plan might ultimately fail. A project like EMU is much easier to achieve when economic times are good. If countries are having to cut deficits and reduce longterm debt in a time of an economic slowdown with high unemployment (Germany’s remained well over 10 percent for much of the time, thanks to figures from former East Germany), there can be no popular path to reform. Whether through strikes like those in France, or fear of a lack of stability as in Germany, there seemed to be many reasons to, if not scuttle, then at least delay EMU. Certainly part of the resiliency of the plan reflected the hope that it was a path out of the economic problems Europe was facing and that the EMU might lead to the kind of growth the United States was experiencing in the mid-1990s. The first step toward creating a competitive Europe was to end the fragmentation and inefficiency of multiple currencies and varied monetary policies. With leading politicians like Stoiber and rising Social Democratic star Gerhard Schröder of Lower Saxony speaking out skeptically about the euro, it appeared Germany might abandon the monetary union it had so long desired. By 1997 the hesitancy of the mid-1990s gave way to a wary acceptance of the euro. To be sure, Bundesbank skepticism continued, and throughout 1997 Germany was in the embarrassing position of being accused by its own central bank of fudging the figures so it could meet the criteria it had demanded from other countries for entry into the EMU.38 The political dance kept people on the edge of their seats concerning the EMU deadline of January 1, 1999. Finance minister Theo Waigel considered selling off federal gold reserves in order to help the budget situation, creating a howl from the Bundesbank and its president, Hans Tietmeyer, a man Helmut Schmidt called “EMUs most important foe.”39 It was clear that the political will of the Kohl government was strong enough to do whatever was necessary to meet the criteria and make the EMU happen on time, even if that meant tricky accounting and questionable estimates.

UNITING EUROPE, 1985–2002

123

By early 1998, as decision day on who would be admitted into the EMU club neared, the SPD had given up its skepticism on the euro, in part because the cost of being seen as standing in the way of European unification outweighed the benefits of trying to take advantage of German love for the deutschmark. To be sure, the Social Democrats were not uniform in their views, with Oskar Lafontaine, still chairman of the party, much more supportive of the euro than Schröder. Public support in Germany for the euro remained low: In January 1998 only 22 percent favored replacing the deutschmark with the euro, down from nearly 30 percent the year before. Nearly half the population now opposed adopting the euro, and lawsuits were filed to try to prevent the government from going through with the plan. In February, 155 German academics published a manifesto that urged postponing the euro due to Germany’s problems with unemployment and debt, arguing that Europe was not yet ready for a single currency.40 The protest represented not so much a belief in German nationalism as it did a fear that the euro would be weaker than the deutschmark, making it more difficult to control inflation and maintain monetary stability. In mid-1998 things had become only marginally better, as 28 percent favored EMU, with 44 percent opposed.41 Given such sentiment, one could have expected the opposition SPD to use it as a major campaign theme in the 1998 elections. Instead, they moved toward the CDU, suggesting that despite the low poll numbers, it was not an issue that aroused passion among Germans, and in fact the negatives of the EMU were offset by the positive value placed on the normative goal of European unification. There was, quite simply, a difference between stating concern for EMU or making demands that the ECB be a hawk on inflation on the one hand, and questioning the whole process on the other. The norms for European unity were so great that the SPD actually hurt itself by embracing skepticism over the EMU, what seemed to be a popular position. In elections in Baden-Württemberg in 1996, the party lost ground when it made EMU opposition a theme, and comments by Rudolf Scharping in 1995 arguing that the SPD would more strongly oppose the EMU drew heavy fire, suggesting such a strategy would be a loser. While support for the EMU may have been low, outright opposition was not intense, and Germans were by and large more comfortable with an uncertain EMU than with actions that would challenge the long-held principle of moving forward on European integration. Ultimately it would be left to the smaller parties such as the right-wing Republikaner or the leftist Party of Democratic Socialism (PDS), successor to the old Communist SED, to challenge the EMU on either the issue of sover-

124

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

eignty (from the right) or the capitalist nature of EU policies (from the left). In March 1998 the decision was made: All but Greece would qualify for entry into the EMU, though qualifiers Britain, Denmark, and Sweden would opt out for the time being. The European Central Bank would be charged with setting monetary policy for the Eurozone, and, in May, Kohl agreed to a compromise to soothe French concerns that they did not have a strong enough voice. The popular choice for bank president, Wim Duisenberg of the Netherlands, was appointed for an eight-year term, but only with the understanding that he would resign after four years in favor of the French favorite, Jean Claude Trichet. Though highly criticized at the time, especially by the SPD heading into an election campaign that fall against Kohl, the compromise assured Franco-German agreement to make monetary union happen on time.42 The Bundestag approved entry into the EMU by a vote of 575 to 35, with five abstentions (four from the SPD, one from the CDU); only the PDS stood against the plan. In spite of what seemed to be a near certainty that the deadline would be delayed or the EMU adventure would end with failure, the euro became the official currency of the eleven Eurozone members on January 1, 1999, with their currencies locked into a single fixed exchange rate and the ECB in charge of monetary policy. Greece worked to improve its budgetary numbers and received approval to join the group, becoming a Eurozone member on January 1, 2001. As long as national currencies were around, the whole thing could have fallen apart; something many feared would happen when the euro dropped nearly 40 percent against the dollar in its first year. Nonetheless on January 1, 2002, euronotes and coins replaced national currencies and accomplished something that seemed a pipe dream back in the early 1980s when Schmidt and Giscard fought to make the EMS a reality, a common European currency with a European Central Bank.43 Even the Bundesbank seemed to have shed its earlier doubts, as in late 2001 its president, Ernst Welteke, said he was convinced that the euro would be as stable as the deutschmark.44 The reason the plan did not fail en route to 1999 might be found in the infamous (at least to many in Great Britain) claim by Helmut Kohl that European integration was a question of war or peace. Kohl obviously was not threatening war should he not get his way, but he was showing the importance he put on European integration, an importance that can be traced back to the Westpolitik of his mentor Konrad Adenauer. 45 Adenauer was, as noted in Chapter 2, convinced that

UNITING EUROPE, 1985–2002

125

Germans had taken a wrong turn when they did not join the West and instead allowed Prussian eastern traditions to dominate after 1871. The future of Germany had to be profoundly western in order to be assuredly peaceful. Kohl, despite his reputation as a provincial politician with an instinct for power and an understanding of public sentiment, was a man motivated by principles and a sense of history. He remained steadfast in his pursuit of the EMU not only because he believed it in Germany’s economic interest but also because it would allow him to bring close to fruition the work begun by Adenauer to make Germany a wholly Western and truly European state. No more straddling the Eastern and Western worlds, European wars could only be avoided by embedded cooperation. As Harold Laski noted: “Until we recognize that an interdependent economic world . . . is incompatible with a system of political units which bears no relation to that inescapable unity, we shall have left untouched the central cause of war.”46 Kohl’s commitment to Western integration can also be seen in s constant theme that the West is not just a geographical location, or even an alliance of mutual interests, but a community of shared values, a Wertegemeinschaft. It reflects CDU rhetoric throughout the Cold War period and does not weaken after German unification. Unlike some— especially economists in the Bundesbank who looked at questions with economists’ eyes to focus on expected utility or self-interest—Kohl emphasized monetary union as a goal not because of its economic impact but rather as a necessary step toward a unified, peaceful, and prosperous Europe that reflected the values of democracy, private property, markets, and freedom. The question, of course, is how much of this was Kohl personally pursuing his objectives based on his interpretation of history and how much was due to German policy norms and tendencies, regardless who was the chancellor? Whatever the answer, Kohl’s policies were embraced by Gerhard Schröder and Joschka Fischer after the Red-Green coalition disposed of the long dominant CDU/CSU/FDP coalition in September 1998. Although Schröder and many Greens had been at times skeptical of the EMU, when they came to government they promised continuation of Kohl’s policies, with a desire to push forward both economic and political union.47 Fischer’s calls for a federal Europe went so far as to be criticized for wanting to move too quickly; clearly, it was not just Kohl’s will driving German policy. Although without Kohl’s skill and perseverance the entire project might have failed, the values for European integration are deep within German political culture. Simon

126

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

Bulmer notes that German policymakers have an “embedded commitment” to integration as a fundamental political value. 48 This would explain not only Kohl’s success but also the fact that a change in government in the late 1990s did not diminish German efforts at integration. Problems still exist for the young monetary union. The strict criteria Germany had insisted on have been called into question. In 2002, Portugal had a deficit of 4.1 percent of GDP, and Germany’s threatened to reach 3.7 percent of GDP, both above the 3.0 percent limit agreed on in the stability pact. This caused European Commission president Romano Prodi to label strict adherence to the rules “stupid,” repudiating years of public pronouncements on the importance of the criteria.49 Even a few months earlier such comments would have gotten a stern rebuke, especially from German leaders; indeed, just-defeated chancellor candidate Edmund Stoiber shot back that he was shocked by the comments and that Prodi did not deserve his position if he said such a thing. 50 France and Germany had already been pressuring the Commission to loosen up the rules, asking that it move the date by which states had to achieve all the criteria to 2006.51 It did, and then later moved toward the acceptance that flexibility was necessary, so that in cases of economic downturn states could go outside the limits as long as they would pay back the excess and return to conformity once economic conditions improved.52 As controversial as these issues were, that Germany and France cooperated to lobby for a change in policy shows continued cooperation to maintain monetary union. The Rocky Path to Political Union

Helmut Kohl had hoped to complement economic union with progress toward political union, but that was much more difficult to achieve. Although institutional reforms have been undertaken, most agreements still express intentions rather than actual results, and disputes persist. This has been a subject of disappointment for Germans, who remain even after Kohl’s departure fundamentally committed to European union. Still, the outlook is not bleak. Throughout the 1990s, driven in part by Mitterrand’s desire to make sure Germany was securely linked to the West, France opened up to the possibility that a real union was possible.53 The French did not go as far toward federal institutions as Germany wished, and the British opted out of both the EMU and the

UNITING EUROPE, 1985–2002

127

Social Chapter,54 resulting in only modest progress. The complexity of issues involving political union is immense. Institutionally, the EU is unable to handle more governmental functions, especially as the community plans to add members. While the EMU would be a supranational endeavor, the issues of political union—the second and third pillars of Maastricht involving CFSP and home affairs—remained intergovernmental. A look at the 2001 European Union budget gives a sense of the problem. Forty-five and a half percent of the budget (43.8 billion euros) was for the Common Agricultural Policy. Another 34.2 percent (32.9 billion euros) went to structural funds, which are intended to help the poorer regions of the EU develop. Most of the rest went for administration and other small projects.55 For 2002, CAP subsidies grew to 45.4 billion euros, and France balked at German demands that reform take place quickly, insisting that full benefits remain in place through 2006.56 This division of funds reflects the priorities of pre-Maastricht Europe rather than a move toward a real union. Beyond that, existing institutions are similar to the ones created for the original six member states; they function inadequately for a union of fifteen and must be reformed as the EU expands to the twenty-seven-member community foreseen by the Nice summit. 57 The EU October 2002 summit in Brussels, which among other things approved ten new members for ascension in 2004, demonstrated that EU institutions were as yet unable to deal with problems such as reform of the CAP. A dispute between France and Germany was solved in a meeting between Gerhard Schröder and Jacques Chirac, where the Germans agreed not to press for a change in subsidies before 2006 if France would agree to cap the money at the 2006 level, with an increase of just 1 percent per year after that.58 Clearly, this is intergovernmental negotiation, not political union. Disputes on the number of commissioners, whether weighted voting in the Council of Ministers should shift in Germany’s favor (something the French prevented at Nice) due to its increased size, and bickering over the scope of qualified majority voting (even Germany opposed a dramatic expansion) have led to a situation where political union remains as elusive now as it was when the Maastricht treaty was signed, even as monetary union has proven successful. Though the European Parliament has gradually enhanced its authority through both the Amsterdam and Nice treaties, there is no real democratic oversight of most EU functions, and with 732 seats the EP has become a rather unwieldy body. Germany had argued for a stronger EP, but most states

128

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

were hesitant to give too much power to a supranational institution.59 The EP acquired the right to vote for or against proposed European Commission presidents, as well as the right to vote on all proposals before the Council of Ministers, provided they fall under the qualified majority voting rules. These steps were mostly symbolic, representing a will to give the EP more authority in the future, but not ultimately moving toward giving the EU its own democratic set of institutions. Where can the EU go from here? One intriguing possibility comes from the concept of subsidiarity embraced in the TEU. In 1998 the party program of the CDU undertook a remarkable rhetorical shift for a conservative party. Sovereignty as the underlying principle of international affairs and state power was replaced by the TEU concept of subsidiarity. Subsidiarity, however, remains an ill-defined concept. If power in the EU is a hierarchy moving from supranational authority at the top to state and then regional authority below, subsidiarity means that power will be exercised at the lowest level necessary to solve particular problems. Many consider the word too mushy to be of much use, especially if bureaucrats in Brussels can define problems as needing supranational solutions. Though many British fear that subsidiarity may end up becoming more a rhetorical sop than a powerful concept, they believe that it means that state power would have precedence over EU authority, as the state is below the EU. However, subsidiarity could also be a threat to state authority if power moves toward supranational authority in issues requiring Europe-wide cooperation (such as monetary and trade policy, and potentially foreign and security policy), while at the same time moving toward regional or even local government on other issues. The TEU created a committee on regions, and a growing number of scholars focus on regional cooperation, or a “Europe of regions.”60 The sovereign state could lose power in two directions, even if it retains considerable influence. In such a case the EU need not endeavor to become a “superstate” with governmental structures analogous to existing nation-states. Subsidiarity would complement its functional development to this point, allowing gradual reform of institutions to reflect the new scope and charge of the organization, particularly the three pillars of the European Union treaty. More importantly, states would be able to accept it without sacrificing to the EU the notion of “sovereignty.” Sovereignty may not be what it used to be, but the state would not actually have to hand it over to a supranational body. Whether this would ultimately lead to more regional authority (perhaps rendering conflicts such as that between Spain and the Basques or in

UNITING EUROPE, 1985–2002

129

Northern Ireland less relevant, given potential declining importance of sovereignty) remains speculative. The willingness of even German conservatives to embrace this idea suggests that subsidiarity may be a hint of how post-sovereign politics could operate. Slow Steps: Amsterdam and Nice

Treaties signed at the 1997 Amsterdam and 2000 Nice summits made some headway into setting the stage for progress on political union, even if actual progress was meager. For the third pillar of the TEU, Justice and Home Affairs, the goal is to expand to supranational agencies legal power to deal with problems that cross traditional borders, such as drug trade, terrorism, fugitives, and immigration. Effective policies along those lines have become more important with the expansion of the Schengen Treaty, which was incorporated into European Union law in the Amsterdam treaty. As with many integrative efforts, that plan grew out of efforts that began in 1985, in this case as a Franco-German agreement to minimize border controls between the two states, an agreement later joined by Belgium, the Netherlands, and Luxembourg. The Schengen Treaty was signed in June 1990, and as the SEA made border controls of goods and services irrelevant, other states signed on. The Amsterdam treaty gives all states five years to end intra-EU border controls, though Great Britain, Ireland, and Denmark received permission to opt out. Obviously, the lack of border controls necessitates a coordinated effort to assure that external borders are both secure and consistent, with rules to govern issues such as asylum seeking and immigration. Since each state retains national policies on both asylum and immigration, rules here are complex, focusing on such things as minimum protection standards for asylum seekers, defining the rights and conditions of non-EU citizens who are legal residents in one EU member state but reside in or work in another, and maintaining common measures against illegal immigration. Germany has been adamant that the EU come up with common standards, especially to avoid having any one state burdened with a disproportionate share of immigrants or asylum seekers (something that happened to Germany in the early 1990s directly after the collapse of communism). Although progress is slow, the accomplishments of both the Amsterdam and Nice treaties show steady moves toward the genesis of a common body of EU border laws. The symbolic

130

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

impact of eliminating internal border controls, however, is profound. The ability to cross from Germany to France greeted only by a “Bienvenue en France” (“Welcome to France”) sign, rather than the traditional customs official, is remarkable, given the history of the twentieth century. Also important in the third pillar, Justice and Home Affairs, are efforts to coordinate national efforts to fight crime. This includes the training of a European police force, and police chiefs from all over Europe started meeting in 2000 to plan how to coordinate these policies. In early 2002, despite Italian hesitancy, an agreement was established for a system for EU arrest warrants, covering thirty-two crimes and further limiting the scope of national sovereignty. In general, despite conventions on human rights, the wide variety of laws and interests involved—not to mention language difficulties and diverse legal traditions—has meant that progress on this front has been very slow. 61 The events of September 11, 2001, when the United States was hit by a terrorist attack, may spur on efforts to build a tighter European domestic security system, something to which Germany remains committed. Edmund Stoiber (CSU) argues that the events of September 11, 2001, make it impossible to divide internal and external security, and that with technology and globalization an EU effort at internal security needs to be stepped up.62 In late 2001, Chirac and Schröder reiterated the desire to create a European constitution, and any major progress on third pillar issues will likely require Franco-German initiatives.63 The Nice treaty of 2000 addressed some of the institutional issues, especially the question of qualified majority voting and the weighting of votes in an expanding Europe.64 The confusing nature of the results shows just how far the EU is from having the kind of coherent and stable institutional structure necessary for greater political integration. Weighting of votes in the Council of Ministers was shifted somewhat to big states, enough to allow three large states and one small one to block a qualified majority. The negotiations were tough. Chancellor Schröder pushed to get Germany at least a symbolic extra vote or two in the weighting, reflecting the fact that with 82 million citizens Germany has over 20 million more people than either Britain or France. Chirac was adamant that any sign that France is anything but equal to Germany was unacceptable, an attitude reminiscent of Mitterrand’s fears of a resurgent Germany. As it turned out, Germany, Britain, France, and Italy would continue as equals, with twenty-nine votes each on the Council of Ministers. Even the Belgians and Dutch quibbled, as the Netherlands

UNITING EUROPE, 1985–2002

131

gained a vote more than Belgium (the Netherlands with 15 million citizens to Belgium’s 10 million), thirteen votes to twelve. The result gave the council a total of 237 votes (compared to 87 before Nice), with 74.6 percent needed to form a qualified majority. The complexity does not end there. Given the weighting, it is possible that 74.6 percent of the votes could come from countries whose combined population is less than 60 percent of the EU’s total population of 375 million. A proviso was made that if the states in favor of a resolution did not reflect 62 percent of the EU population, the resolution would be blocked, even if they had 74.6 percent of the weighted votes. Majority voting was expanded to areas such as service trade, but national vetoes remained in place for tax and social security policy. The size of the European Commission was also a factor. As the EU expanded, the Commission numbers expanded as well, from an original nine to twenty. Big countries agreed to give up their second commissioner starting in 2005, with the option of capping Commission size at twenty after 2007. The idea of an inner core of integration was also accepted, with any group of eight states earning the right to pursue deeper integration regardless of what the rest of the EU does. Toward a European Foreign and Security Policy

The second pillar of the Maastricht treaty, foreign policy cooperation, has also been a difficult issue to navigate. German desires for a common European foreign policy have been consistent for the past three decades. The first moves were taken back in 1970 with the start of the European Political Cooperation (EPC), an intergovernmental approach that remained separate from the EC institutions at the insistence of those wanting a supranational approach to building Europe. In 1973, foreign ministers were flown from Brussels to Copenhagen one day in order to demonstrate clearly that the EPC meeting was not the same as their Brussels Council of Ministers meeting. The TEU ended that separation by incorporating the CFSP into EU institutions. Two barriers stand in the way of developing a true European foreign policy. First, foreign policy coordination is very difficult between a number of states, and no state is likely to want to give up its control over foreign policy to a supranational body. Second, any attempt to increase European foreign policy competence threatens to undermine U.S. leadership of NATO, leading to skepticism in the United States of efforts to strengthen the

132

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

West European Union or develop a European foreign policy. The Maastricht treaty took this problem into account with a proposal for greater cooperation between the WEU and NATO, leading to a European Security and Defense Identity (ESDI) to complement NATO. The barriers have proven difficult to overcome in the 1990s, as EU failure in Yugoslavia and continuing conflicts have enhanced the status of NATO and the ability of the United States to act in the world. Helmut Kohl stated in June 1991 that “Europe has shown it can use its combined weight to find solutions like the one in Yugoslavia.”65 The ability to solve problems like that in Yugoslavia was supposed to jump-start the CFSP and yield a coherent European foreign policy identity. The subsequent collapse of order in the Balkans dashed that optimism completely. However, slow and steady progress has been made to at least put the WEU and CFSP in a position to build on in the coming years. One could see current CFSP efforts as analogous to the role of the EMS in the early 1980s. It was only partially successful and could not prevent states from undertaking diverse monetary and fiscal policies, but it set the stage for slow convergence and ultimately, union. The CFSP may have a long way to go, but it is off to a promising start. The strategy of Germany has been to attempt to connect the WEU to the European Union, making it a potential tool of the CFSP. This is done in a manner designed not to duplicate or contradict NATO functions, symbolized by the choice of former NATO secretary general Javier Solana as head of the CFSP. As in other areas, Franco-German cooperation has been key. In October 1991 France and Germany agreed to plans that were announced in May 1992 at the LaRochelle Franco-German summit to increase the Franco-German corps to 35,000, with headquarters in Strasbourg, encompassing a variety of military competencies.66 The Franco-German corps soon became the Eurocorps, as Spain and Belgium became the first to join the next month. In June, the WEU moved to expand its ability to engage in military operations. Forces that would answer to the WEU included the 50,000–strong Eurocorps as well as other multinational forces, such as a British-Dutch force, officially part of NATO. To be sure, the WEU would not have a standing force; national armies integrated in NATO would suffice for potential WEU forces, curtailing the hopes of some that the WEU and CFSP would reduce dependence on NATO.67 The issue of how to define the relationship between NATO and the WEU or CFSP was still unclear in 1994, when the Combined Joint Task

UNITING EUROPE, 1985–2002

133

Force (CJTF) was created, allowing the WEU to use NATO assets. The CJTF was designed to ensure that there would be unity rather than duplication between the various organizations. The French were unenthusiastic about the cooperation; as late as 1996 the French argued that the CJTF should have a separate command structure from NATO, in order to keep it outside U.S. control. In the 1997 and 1999 NATO summits, however, the United States was able to reassert its leadership of the alliance, even as the European Security and Defense Identity was celebrated as a reflection of European “maturity” in security policy.68 The enhanced links between the CFSP and WEU remained largely theoretical, as the Europeans did not have the capacity to undertake the kinds of tasks intended for the WEU without NATO leadership. Even when they declared the Rapid Reaction force operational at the December 2001 Laeken summit, Greece’s rivalry with Turkey thwarted deep NATO cooperation, demonstrating how the continued existence of practical and political issues prevent a true European security policy. Germany supported more authority for the CFSP, including a link between the WEU and EU, during both the Kohl and Schröder administrations. After the Kosovo conflict Schröder argued that it was necessary to make sure that the EU had the ability to act in situations like those in the Balkans without having to rely completely on the United States. At the May 1999 Toulouse Franco-German summit, both agreed that the European Union had to develop the ability to deal autonomously with crises that emerge in Europe. This led to the agreement during the June 1999 Cologne summit of the European Council to choose Javier Solana to lead the CFSP (coming over from his position atop NATO) and to incorporate the WEU into the EU for peacekeeping and humanitarian tasks.69 Reaction in Europe to the events in the Balkans in 1999, called the “year that shook Europe awake,” demonstrated a desire to strengthen the CFSP.70 Despite such political will, Alexander Moens notes that the key to the future of European foreign and security policy cooperation remains NATO: Gone are the days of the early post–Cold War period when hope was placed on the OSCE or broader international organizations to replace or marginalize NATO.71 This does not mean that a true EU security organization will not at some point be part of a transformation of NATO that weakens U.S. leadership; however, such changes would happen only slowly, and likely with U.S. and European agreement on a different form of partnership. One thing limiting the support Germany can give to a European

134

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

security alternative to NATO is Germany’s small military force and budget. Under budget constraints, German defense spending has declined 25 percent since unification, with the number of troops planned to drop from 320,000 in 2000 to about 250,000.72 Unless the Europeans decide that a large military capable of responding to crises in and outside Europe is unnecessary, chances are that NATO and the United States will continue to be the dominant military forces in Europe, though a common foreign policy and a more integrated WEU could at the very least create a more effective European component. Germany, the EU, and the East: Widening or Deepening?

The Maastricht treaty pursuing monetary and, to a lesser extent, political union reflects a desire to deepen integration, as it links institutions and policies to move toward a true union. However, in the years after Maastricht, even as the tough issues of monetary union were being successfully navigated, the EU has had to confront the inevitable result of the fall of communism: as East European states democratized and embraced market economics, they also wanted to become part of the European Union in order to reap the expected benefits of full partnership with the West. Expanding or “widening” the European Union, however, makes efforts to deepen integration more difficult. The West European states have been building market economies for decades, slowly expanding cooperation across a variety of areas. In the East, the rapid transition to capitalism has been difficult, raising concerns about how smooth their ascension into the European Union will be. Germany supports both widening and deepening. After unification, German president Roman Herzog stated that “if we do not stabilize the East, the East will destabilize us.”73 The CDU’s official position in 1995 was that widening and deepening were not contradictory, and that deepening was necessary in order to widen the EU. This also continued the idea of differentiated integration, similar to the Schäuble/Lamers idea of an EU core.74 Not all states have to deepen at the same rate, and it might take a while for East European states to be able to participate fully in all aspects of European Union integration. The EU moved quickly to make agreements with Eastern Europe. By 1993 separate agreements were made with Bulgaria, Romania, Hungary, Poland, and the Czech and Slovak republics. By 1996, Slovenia, Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania concluded agreements as well. Germany and Britain

UNITING EUROPE, 1985–2002

135

pushed hard for opening to the East, while the French, concerned that Germany might look eastward, originally opposed such an orientation. Germany was trading and investing more heavily with the East than any other EU member state, giving it a strong incentive to ensure that EU influence spread to Eastern Europe. 75 Various pronouncements on enlargement in the late 1990s provided a chaotic and uncertain picture: The EU expressed a desire to expand its membership, but there was no timetable or any conception of how this would be done. Finally, at the Nice summit in December 2000 an agreement was reached to both commit to widening and plan how to do it. Twelve candidates were given the nod as being on a fast track toward membership: Poland, Romania, the Czech Republic, Hungary, Bulgaria, Slovakia, Lithuania, Latvia, Slovenia, Estonia, Cyprus, and Malta. In October 2002 ten of those were given approval to join the EU in 2004, with Bulgaria and Romania’s admission put off until 2007.76 The summit also agreed on relative weights for each country in the Council of Ministers. This commitment to enlarge seems on its face to suggest that the “wideners” have won the day in the EU. The widening will have real consequences on Germany’s position in the union. Germany’s trade and investment ties with the former Eastern bloc states far exceeds that of other EU members, and programs like the CAP will be even more expensive after enlargement. This makes the October 2002 Franco-German agreement to limit growth of the CAP after 2006 important; as East European states expand their agricultural output, the generosity of CAP subsidies will have to contract due to limited funds. The CAP is a net loser for the Germans, and the SPD does not have a strong agricultural constituency within its party to satisfy. Most importantly, a twenty-seven-member community will be unwieldy within the current institutions and will fundamentally question not only the CAP but the nature of structural and cohesion funds in the EU—in all about 80 percent of the current EU budget. The Nice treaty called for a new intergovernmental conference to discuss constitutional reform, and in late 2001 Chirac and Schröder reiterated the importance of this effort, calling for an EU constitution as states had begun to choose participants for the conference. At the December 2001 Laeken summit this conference, chaired by committed Europeanist Valery Giscard d’Estaing, took form, with its goal being to develop a better institutional structure for a deeper and wider union. In October 2002 Giscard’s commission, including over a hundred elites from the member states, put out its first ideas about the bare bones of a

136

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

European constitution.77 Giscard compared his work to that taken by the U.S. founding fathers at the Philadelphia constitutional convention in 1787. He proposed the name “United Europe,” with dual citizenship for all members, a stronger role for the head of the CFSP, incorporation of the EU’s charter of rights, an exit clause for states wanting to leave, and other institutional reforms. 78 Intergovernmental conferences have always been akin to constitutional conventions, as their results often change the very nature of the EU, but the comparison may be especially apt for the next round of negotiations. Political union remains elusive, but it has neither run into a brick wall nor floundered due to lack of attention. The form it will take could range from an emphasis on intergovernmentalism to a true federal union. With debates between those wanting more central authority for the EU and those wanting more democracy existing alongside those wanting a true federal state and those wanting to keep the emphasis on cooperation between governments, the task is daunting.79 For German foreign policy, the tumult of the Nice negotiations and Schröder’s willingness to defend German interests and demand complete equality for Germany vis-à-vis other European states reawakened fears of a more assertive German policy, though it is hard to see a qualitative difference between Schröder’s toughness and the way Schmidt pursued German interests in the 1970s. Each represents the use of soft power via negotiations in multilateral cooperative institutions, something long accepted as part of how German foreign policy operates. Defending national interests is not bad, but doing so in a unilateral way with a focus on power politics rather than negotiation and compromise is frowned on. Still, the coming enlargement of the EU will put Germany in its geographical center, and if Kohl’s rhetoric and actions reflected Adenauer’s commitment to Westpolitik, Schröder’s confident willingness to use the once taboo notion of “national interest,” along with Joschka Fischer’s discussion of German power as a real factor in EU development, seems a tad reminiscent of Schumacher. One way fears of German influence may have hurt institutional reform was in the French-led fight against a simpler voting system called a “double majority.” In such a system an EU decision would pass if it had both the majority of states (one state, one vote) and the states in favor had a population greater than half of the total EU population. 80 This, the French feared, would strengthen German influence, especially in a wider Europe. Other disagreements at the Nice summit showed that Chirac and Schröder were becoming less like partners and more

UNITING EUROPE, 1985–2002

137

like rivals, raising questions about the “Franco-German engine” of integration. Friends or Rivals?

For a number of reasons, Germany finds it easier to deal with the European Union than many other states do. Besides having a post-sovereign attitude to politics, a prointegration tendency that Klaus Goetz claims is “imprinted on the genetic code of German politics,” Germany’s decentralized system makes a move toward a federal Europe easier to imagine.81 Jim Buller and Charlie Jeffrey argue that Germans have an entrenched normative belief that multilateralism is good. 82 Despite nervousness about Schröder’s more assertive posture in EU meetings, little suggests that Germans have altered their fundamental interest in European integration. In 1998, for example, Germany contributed 25.1 percent of the EU budget and received only 13.3 percent, making it the major contributor. This ratio has been consistent over the past twenty years; in 1981, Germany contributed 28.1 percent and received 16.1 percent of the budget.83 At the Berlin summit in 1999, nearly a decade after unification, Germany was again willing to sacrifice its short-term interests to help handle British rebate demands.84 This choice demonstrated continuity between Kohl’s pro-European policies and those of the Red-Green coalition. Even though Schröder’s willingness to speak openly about “national interests” creates fears of a change of attitude in the first generation of leaders without direct memory of World War II, his balancing of pursuit of interests with care to maintain solidarity is no different from the approach taken by Schmidt and Kohl. There is little reason to expect Germany to ditch its emphasis on the West as a Wertegemeinschaft with the Franco-German relationship at the core, simply to expand its influence eastward. Kohl’s words at the 1988 celebration of the twenty-fifth anniversary of the Elysée treaty still guide German policy, to which the agreements Schröder and Chirac could reach in 2002 attest. The coolness in relations between Chirac and Schröder after the Nice summit was due as much to the French recognition that the EU is no longer a French-dominated institution and the lingering double standard whereby France or Great Britain can consciously promote national interest in the European Community while Germany should not. Germany’s willingness to promote national inter-

138

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

ests does, however, raise questions concerning Germany’s foreign policy identity. The answers to such questions center on the recurring issue of just what the EU actually is. If it is a voluntary organization of sovereign states, balancing each other and using institutions as tools to enhance national power, then Germany’s behavior does offer evidence that German policy is shifting away from its emphasis on multilateral cooperation as a norm. Few neorealists attempt to study the EU in that light, and those like John Mearsheimer, who predicted in 1990 that integration would be more difficult to achieve with the end of the Cold War, were proven wrong.85 Joseph Grieco, arguing from a neorealist perspective, claims that the EU can be understood in neorealist terms as weaker states trying to use an institution to give voice to their interests and impact the development of international politics through a multilateral institution in ways they could not alone.86 However, it is hard to see the difference between what Grieco sees and what a neoliberal institutionalist approach would expect, namely the use of soft power in cooperative institutions to try to pursue various goals. Not only are some of the fiercest battles in the EU concerned more with internal domestic interests (like the CAP) than with weight in the international system, but the path to monetary union and increased economic integration has been led by business and economic interests at home, not by a conscious desire to increase a state’s international clout. This would fit better within the utilitarian liberal theory of foreign policy, an example of which comes from Corinna Freund, who argues that foreign policies result from the interplay of domestic interest groups and decisionmaking bureaucracies, not a state-centric desire to expand influence. Freund’s focus is on economic and trade policy, and in examining trade policy within the EU she provides compelling evidence that the best way to understand German policy is through the domestic political actors and their interests.87 The point that many forget when they try to apply international relations theory to intra-EU relations is that there is no clear way to determine if intra-EU policymaking is more like a domestic political system or an international organization. States are involved in summit meetings and intergovernmental conferences, but policymaking and the way interests are developed for even those meetings is different from traditional foreign policy endeavors. In fact, if a liberal utilitarian approach to economic and European Union policy is correct, it would be evidence of an even closer union, wherein policy conflict is seen more as internal domestic competition than as the development of a national strategy. That seems to be the way the Germans

UNITING EUROPE, 1985–2002

139

understand EU politics; after 1989 Kohl continually pushed for more democratization of the EU, in an effort to make it more like a single polity, while Mitterrand preferred to keep power centralized in the European Council.88 If it is the case that German use of soft power and influence in the EU is predicated on an approach to political negotiation analogous to domestic bargaining, then there is no contradiction in the German government (or any government) supporting domestic interests in the EU while at the same time seeing multilateral cooperation as a goal in and of itself. Seeing multilateralism as a goal does not deny the existence of other competing goals, nor does it claim that multilateralism is always the dominant goal. A post-sovereign foreign policy identity would in fact suggest that Germany would not simply give in to the desires of others but rather interact with people and organizations in other states in a manner similar to the way it interacts with organizations at home. As Simon Bulmer argues, Germany’s emphasis on multilateralism is a perfect match for European Union rules of how the bargaining game is played.89 As it stands, the EU exists as a gray area between a sovereign state and an international organization. Interactions within the EU show a mix of what one would expect of states in competition and exemplify internal bureaucratic struggles one might see in any large and diverse polity. Trying to understand German policy toward the EU through a lens of international relations theory is just as problematic as adopting a domestic policy analysis framework: The EU is neither a superstate nor a typical intergovernmental organization. Wolfgang Wessels argues even that the EU arose primarily to satisfy domestic demands.90 The kinds of debates about voting weights and qualified majorities that took place in Amsterdam and Nice reflect discussion about how to build a system of supranational governance, not just how to balance interests between states. Throughout the process of European integration, German foreign policy has been consistent: to support building a closer union in Europe, with Franco-German cooperation at the core. If the past is any guide, the deeper economic bonds that the euro and a common monetary policy bring will only enhance the development of a collective political identity and help support progress toward a kind of political union that in some ways could supersede, but not replace, the sovereign state as a primary mode of political organization. In that sense not only does German policy toward the EU reflect a post-sovereign or “Kantian”

140

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

identity, but the European Union itself appears to be a prototype of the kind of “pacific union” envisioned near the end of the eighteenth century by the German philosopher Immanuel Kant. 91 It could be that German use of its power and influence to build bonds of friendship and cooperation rather than expand its national power could, over time, help redefine the foreign policy identity of even traditionally nationalist states like France and Great Britain toward a post-sovereign perspective, especially if European integration continues to be successful. Notes

1. Rometsch, “The Federal Republic of Germany.” 2. Thatcher, The Downing Street Years, p. 536. 3. An excellent analysis of German policy in the EC in the mid-1980s, including a look at interest group politics, the local and state dimension, as well as policymaking connections between the EC and West Germany, can be found in Bulmer and Paterson, The Federal Republic of Germany and the European Community. 4. For background on the Council of Ministers, see Hayes-Renshaw and Wallace, The Council of Ministers. 5. Although recently the scope of qualified majority voting has expanded, through the mid-1980s votes were rare and on important issues required unanimity. It was a Council of Ministers vote that caused De Gaulle to leave the EC for a time in the mid-1960s. De Gaulle argued that each minister should have veto power over the decisions, noting France could not be part of a community that could threaten its sovereignty. The Luxembourg compromise gave in to De Gaulle, giving states the right to use a veto in issues of extreme national interest. Although this effectively led to a unanimity principle over the next two decades, the compromise did not specify how it can be determined if an issue had the importance required to make a veto necessary, thus giving it leeway for ultimately rejecting veto attempts, which happened with Great Britain in 1982. 6. For more information about policymaking in general in the European Union, see Wallace and Wallace, Policy Making in the European Union. 7. See, for example, Weiler, “A Quiet Revolution,” and Burley and Mattli, “Europe Before the Court.” 8. Lindberg and Scheingold, Europe’s Would-Be Polity. 9. For a good review of the issues involving the political economy of Europe and the difficulties in achieving common policies, see Tsoukalis, The New European Economy Revisited, and Kenen, Economic and Monetary Union in Europe. 10. In the fall of 1982 I took a seminar from Dr. Gianni Bonvincini at the Johns Hopkins Bologna, Italy School of Advanced International Studies. In that seminar the pressing question was if European integration could continue or if

UNITING EUROPE, 1985–2002

141

it had reached a point where the economic benefits of cooperation simply had to be enjoyed as they were, without having grand plans for a union. Although Dr. Bonvincini was a committed Europeanist, the rest of the students in the seminar (a mix of Americans and Europeans) saw plans for monetary union and intensified political cooperation as almost a pipe dream. 11. In 1976, as the problems mounted for the EC after the energy crisis, integration theorist Ernst Haas wrote The Obsolescence of Integration Theory, effectively announcing that neofunctionalism and the optimistic views of the past decade had floundered. In retrospect, that pronouncement was premature. 12. Wallace, “Europe as a Confederation,” p. 57. 13. For a good description of the issues around the CAP, see Grant, The Common Agricultural Policy. 14. For a recent effort to summarize various trends in integration theory, see Pollack, “International Relations Theory and European Integration.” 15. Ross and Jenson, “The Tragedy of the French Left,” p. 5. 16. Lodge, “European Union and the First Elected European Parliament.” 17. Pinder, European Community, p. 77. 18. It was estimated that border delays alone were costing $1 billion a year, and the cost in trade of uneven regulations was thought to be about $19 billion. “Truckers Cut Through Red Tape on the Road to 1992,” Christian Science Monitor, June 30, 1988. 19. See Moravcsik, “Negotiating the Single European Act,” pp. 41–84. 20. For good information on the Bundesbank and its policies, see De Haan, History of the Bundesbank. For information on the role of the Bundesbank in European monetary union, see Heisenberg, The Mark of the Bundesbank. 21. McCarthy, “The Franco-German Axis from De Gaulle to Chirac,” pp. 101–135. 22. Boche, “Franco-German Economic Relations,” p. 82. 23. Morgan, “France and Germany as Partners in the European Community,” pp. 101–102. 24. Helmut Schmidt, “Einer für alle,” Die Zeit, November 15, 2001, pp. 23–24. 25. Habermas, “Yet Again: Germany Identity,” p. 84. 26. John Yemma, “European States Weigh the Costs of Uniting,” Christian Science Monitor, June 29, 1988. 27. Intergovernmental conferences emerged as a way of negotiating significant changes to the basic rules governing the EC and later the EU. Wood and Yesilada compare them to constitutional conventions governing major changes to European Union treaties; Wood and Yesilada, The Emerging European Union, p. 2. 28. Julien Baum, “Thatcher Puts Limits on a United Europe,” Christian Science Monitor, July 29, 1988. 29. Kohl didn’t even tell his foreign minister, Hans Dietrich Genscher, of the plan, ostensibly because he did not want information leaking and wanted to be sure to cease the initiative. 30. Although officially the EC did not become the EU until the treaty was

142

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

ratified and in force on January 1, 1994, I will refer to it as the EU from the point of the Maastricht agreement in December 1991. The actual Treaty of European Union (TEU) was signed in February. See Corbett, “Governance and Institutional Developments.” 31. Dyson and Featherstone, “EMU and Economic Governance in Germany,” pp. 337–339. 32. Ibid., p. 341. 33. The actual date for introducing the euro in the form of coins and notes was pushed off to January 1, 2002, in order to allow enough new currency to be produced and give businesses and shops a chance to prepare for the changeover. Nonetheless, the euro was officially the monetary unit for EMU members after January 1, 1999, with the European Central Bank setting monetary policy. 34. Visiting Copenhagen in July 1992, I was surprised at the level of resistance to the Maastricht agreement even from young people. Most were especially concerned that Germany, their big neighbor to the south, would be able to more easily move in and buy Danish companies and properties. From my unscientific sample, it seemed that those who claimed that Danes rejected Maastricht due to their fear of Germany’s post-unification strength were correct. 35. Morgan, “France and Germany as Partners in the European Community,” p. 94. 36. For a critical review of German economic policies during the reunification period, see Heilemann and Jochimsen, Christmas in July? See also Singer, “The Politics and Economics of German Unification.” Jochimsen writes from experience as a Bundesbank decisionmaking council member. 37. Wood, Germany, Europe, and the Persistence of Nations. Wood mentions a number of polls taken in the mid-1990s that showed Germans were hesitant about giving up the deutschmark (p. 159). 38. See “The Bundesbank Bites Back,” The Economist, May 29, 1997; “Not Quite a Done Deal Yet?” The Economist, December 11, 1997; and “Zero Option,” The Economist, July 3, 1997. 39. “Hans Tietmeyer, the D-Mark’s Dogged Defender,” The Economist, May 19, 1998. 40. “Doubts, Hesitancy, Determination,” The Economist, February 12, 1998. 41. Ibid. See also Noelle-Neumann and Petersen, “Die öffentliche Meinung,” p. 297. 42. A bigger challenge to the EMU might have come from the Constitutional Court, which had signaled that it would hear complaints if it appeared that the criteria were not being strictly applied or that there would be instability as a result of monetary union. In April 1998, the court ruled against a case stating that EMU would provide instability, removing the final barrier toward achieving the January 1, 1999, start date. 43. The exact manner of moving to a common currency varied slightly from state to state in Europe, though all EMU members made the euro their official currency for everyday use as of January 1, 2002; all bank accounts and other financial holdings were automatically converted to euros. In Germany,

UNITING EUROPE, 1985–2002

143

people could use either euros or deutschmarks until February 28, 2001, and had on that date to go to their local banks to exchange deutschmarks for euros. After that Germans would have to go through the central bank to make an exchange. Rules also were put in place to freeze some prices for a time before and after the transition in order to prevent price-gouging by retailers preying on the lack of knowledge customers had of euro worth. 44. “Business Talk,” Mobil, November 2001, p. 38. 45. Kohl made the comment in a speech in Leuven, Belgium, in February 1996. In Great Britain the reaction was a strange claim that Kohl was making a threat in order to promote EMU. Buller and Jefferey suggest that could have been an attempt to deflect attention away from problems in Great Britain. Buller and Jeffrey, “Britain, Germany and the Deepening of Europe,” p. 140. 46. Harold Laski, quoted in Pinder, “European Community and Nation State,” p. 41. 47. The position is made absolutely clear in the coalition contract between the SPD and the Greens, using rhetoric that matched the support for integration that Kohl had so long espoused. See Koalitionsvereinbarung der SPD und Bündnis 90/Die Grünen, October 20, 1998, especially pp. 40–42. 48. Bulmer, “Shaping the Rules?” p. 67. 49. “Reforming the EU’s Stability Pact?” The Economist, October 26, 2002, p. 50. 50. “Staatsdefizit ist noch höher als befrüchtet,” Der Taggesspiegel, October 21, 2002. 51. Stephen Castle, “Brussels Gives In to Germany and France on Euro,” The Independent, September 25, 2002. 52. Birgit Marschall and Daniela Schwarzer, “Berlin und Paris schieden Bündnis gegen Eurozentralbank,” Financial Times Deutschland, October 16, 2002; and Alexander Hagelüken and Oliver Schumacher, “Brüssel will Korrekturen am Stabilitätspakt,” Süddeutsche Zeitung, September 25, 2002. 53. Harmsen and Reinhardt, “Negotiating Intergovernmental Conferences,” p. 284. 54. The Social Chapter, originally article 118 of the 1958 Treaty of Rome creating the framework for the European Economic Community, was designed to assure that as states opened up markets and liberalized their economy they would strive for social justice and maintain social welfare programs. 55. “Demontage auf Raten,” Focus, October 29, 2001, p. 60. 56. Sabine Heimgärtner, “Dinner For Two,” Der Taggespiegel, October 15, 2002. 57. See Helmut Schmidt, “Einer für alle,” Die Zeit, Nov. 15, 2001, p. 23. 58. “Charlemagne: The Summits of Desire,” The Economist, November 2, 2002, p. 55. 59. Wagner, “German EU Constitutional Foreign Policy,” p. 207. 60. Bulmer, “Shaping the Rules?” p. 62. 61. See “SZ Gespräch mit Wolfgang Schomburg: Europa braucht ein Strafgericht,” Süddeutsche Zeitung, December 6, 2001. 62. Edmund Stoiber, speech at the forum “Europa im globales Wettbewerb,” sponsored by the Herbert Quandt Stiftung and the Financial Times, Berlin, November 16, 2001.

144

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

63. At the time of the Schäuble/Lamers paper, even FDP foreign minister Klaus Kinkel backed away from the idea, as the Kohl government policy wanted to avoid divisions within Europe. See Harmsen and Reinhardt, “Negotiating Intergovernmental Conferences,” p. 291. 64. For an analysis of the Nice treaty as an evolution of EU’s “legal constitution,” see Wessels, “Nice Results.” 65. Serfaty, “NATO at Sixty,” p. 32. 66. Gordon, “The Franco-German Security Partnership,” p. 152. 67. Kirchner, “NATO or WEU?” p. 186. 68. Miskimmon, “Recasting the Security Bargains,” p. 91. 69. Kirchner, “NATO or WEU?” p. 193. The exact role of the WEU within the EU remains unclear; the British desire greater separation, and the fact that some EU members are not in NATO (NATO membership is requisite for full WEU membership) creates difficulties. 70. Edgar, “Intergovernmentalism and an Integrated European Defense Market,” p. 135 71. Moens, “European Security and Defense and NATO,” p. 169. 72. Roos, “Bundeswehr Embraces Defense Reform,” pp. 20–21. 73. Pinder, “The Eastern Enlargement of the European Union,” p. 144. 74. Michelmann, “The Perils of Treaty Amendment in the European Union,” p. 58. 75. Pinder, “The Eastern Enlargement of the European Union,” p. 150. Germany’s exports to Eastern Europe had risen by 1996 to 8.5 percent of the total, accompanied by heavy investment. 76. Robert Weilaard, “EU Approves 10 Nations for Membership in ’04,” Washington Post, October 10, 2002, p. A25. 77. “Can These Bones Live?” The Economist, November 2, 2002, p. 51. 78. George Parker, Daniel Dombey, and James Blitz, “Chirac-Blair Dispute Mars EU Convention,” The Financial Times, October 29, 2002. 79. Peter Mandelson, “Fast Track to the New Europe?” The Guardian, October 1, 2002. 80. See “So That’s All Agreed Then,” The Economist, December 14, 2000. 81. Goetz, “Integration Policy in a Europeanized State,” p. 24. 82. Buller and Jeffery, “Britain, Germany and the Deepening of Europe,” p. 134. 83. Wagner, “German EU Constitutional Foreign Policy,” p. 210. See also Anderson, German Unification and the Union of Europe, p. 52. 84. Pinder, “The Eastern Enlargement of the European Union,” p. 154. 85. Mearsheimer, “Back to the Future,” pp. 5–55. 86. Grieco, “State Interests and Institutional Rule Trajectories.” 87. Freund, “German Foreign Trade Policy within the EU,” pp. 230–269. See also Freund and Rittberger, “Utilitarian-Liberal Foreign Policy Theory,” pp. 68–104. 88. Jones, “Small Countries and the Franco-German Relationship,” p. 125. 89. Bulmer, “Shaping the Rules,” p. 67. 90. Wessels, “An Ever Closer Fusion?” pp. 267–299

UNITING EUROPE, 1985–2002

145

91. See Teeson, A Philosophy of International Law. Teeson lists Kant’s criteria for perpetual peace (pp. 22–23). Preliminary articles include (1) no treaty of peace that tacitly reserves issues for a future war should be held valid; (2) no independent nation, be it large or small, may be acquired by another nation by inheritance, exchange, purchase, or gift; (3) standing armies shall be gradually abolished; (4) no national debt shall be contracted in connection with the foreign affairs of the nation; (5) no nation shall forcibly interfere with the constitution and government of another; and (6) no nation at war with another shall permit such acts of war as must make mutual trust impossible during such future time of peace. Three definitive articles include (1) the civil constitution of every nation should be republican; (2) international law shall be based on a federation of free states; and (3) the Cosmopolitan Law shall be limited to conditions of universal hospitality.

Six Security and Conflict After the Cold War: From Iraq to Macedonia

European Union demonstrate the continuity of German policies since unification, Germany’s security policy, and particularly its participation in military action, represents a dramatic transformation. For the first time since World War II the use of German forces both within and outside Europe is a reality. German defense planners are discussing a potential “world role” for the Bundeswehr (federal army), and rulings by the constitutional court have cleared the way for German military action both under UN auspices and within NATO and other European regional organizations. Calls for a Berufsarmee (professional volunteer army) raise the possibility that the Bundeswehr could be streamlined and equipped for various military tasks worldwide. As early as 1992 the use of military force in limited circumstances became a topic of consideration for German peace researchers, the most prominent of whom was Egon Bahr, architect of Ostpolitik and one of the pioneers of German peace studies.1 By 1999 the Green Party, anti-NATO pacifists in the 1980s, embraced a military role for Germany in the Kosovo conflict that even hawks would have considered off limits just ten years earlier. After the September 2001 terrorist attacks in the United States, Germany declared its willingness to help militarily in Afghanistan, with Chancellor Schröder declaring unlimited solidarity (uneingeschränkte Solidarität) with the Americans. In 1989 it would have been unthinkable to send German troops to Afghanistan or anywhere outside of Europe with even the chance of participating in an active war. Clearly a transition is taking place in German thinking on foreign policy matters WHILE ISSUES OVER THE COMPOSITION AND ADMINISTRATION OF THE

147

148

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

involving military conflict. Does this suggest that German norms against war as a means of achieving political ends are weakening? Many German peace researchers claim that German foreign policy has been militarized, moving from skepticism of the 1991 Gulf War to full involvement in a nondefensive NATO intervention in Kosovo.2 Former peace activists Social Democrat chancellor Gerhard Schröder and Green foreign minister Joschka Fischer are accused of putting German interests first and not working enough in multinational institutions.3 Public defense of “German interests,” long considered taboo, is now common.4 Early in the decade Germans were enthusiastic about a blanket OSCE (Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe) system to unite Eastern and Western Europe in a security arrangement that even U.S. secretary of state James Baker said could stretch from Vancouver to Vladivostok. By the end of the decade Germans embraced NATO as a necessary anchor for European security. However, claims of foreign policy militarization are exaggerated. The German army has been cut to under 300,000 troops, with plans that could bring the total as low as 240,000, and defense spending has been reduced more than 25 percent since unification.5 German resistance to the United States on the issue of a preventative war against Iraq in late 2002 (discussed in Chapter 7) shows a lack of enthusiasm for using military means to achieve policy goals. In retrospect, the 1990s represented a shaking out of the old system and dealing with unexpected realities of a world no one yet quite understood. Germany became more active militarily, yet it did so primarily to promote multilateral efforts to enforce international law. In this chapter, I analyze the changes in German policy regarding international conflict as it evolved from the 1991 Gulf War to the Macedonian conflict in the summer of 2001. This chapter deals with an aspect of German policy undergoing a dramatic and unexpected transformation, suggesting that perhaps German foreign policy values and the post-sovereign foreign policy identity are weakening. A closer look at the conflicts and German debate about the proper role to play leads to a different conclusion. The shifts in German policy reflect adaptation to a new environment, one where the end of the Cold War brings about a variety of unexpected challenges. German foreign policy before unification was defined almost wholly by the logic of the Cold War and Germany’s position as a divided state between East and West. In the new, post–Cold War world, the West confronted attempted genocide, human rights atrocities, dictators trying to expand power, and instability

SECURITY AND CONFLICT AFTER THE COLD WAR

149

on the European continent. Dealing with these often put foreign policy values in conflict, as antimilitarism in the face of the kind of atrocities that reminded people of the Holocaust seemed to many to be akin to appeasement. Unified Germany’s foreign policy is shaped by the same values that defined West German policy before unification: multilateralism, a focus on cooperative institution building, human rights, and international law. The pre-unification norm against involvement in any nondefensive military action was primarily due to the fact that during the Cold War there was no conceivable way for Germany to be involved in a military venture other than the defense of Europe. But as the rearmament debate, the missile modernization debate, and Franco-German military cooperation showed, Germans had not rejected the need for a military. As Germans confronted dilemmas involving dictators, human rights atrocities, and public skepticism about when and how to use the military, they slowly built a new consensus about the use of military power, accepting that it is at times necessary but that it must be multilateral, focused on enforcing international law or ending human rights abuses, and limited in scope and purpose. The process to achieving that policy consensus started immediately after unification, as it became clear that the IraqKuwait crisis was going to lead to a major war. The War Against Iraq

The Iraq crisis could not have come at a worse time for the German political system. The newly united Germany held its first national elections two months after unification, on December 2, 1990. Unification and the excitement of the first “all Germany” election pushed other issues out of the spotlight, including the looming confrontation between U.S.-led United Nations forces and Iraq. In conditions described by one analyst as “decision making overload,” Germans were unprepared for the challenge the Gulf War would pose.6 After the attack on Kuwait, German policy was based primarily on the imperatives of reunification. Kohl considered domestic political stability a necessary condition for peaceful unification. Remembering how divisive the Pershing missile controversy had been, Kohl thought it prudent to move cautiously. At the same time, he felt a personal responsibility to President Bush and did not want Germany to be outside of a concerted effort against the Iraqi aggression. Kohl fought speculation about German military partic-

150

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

ipation in the conflict by joining with his defense minister, Gerhard Stoltenberg, to announce on August 20, 1990, that the German constitution forbade military participation. It was only after the war was over that Germans began active military involvement, aiding in mine-clearing operations. When U.S. secretary of state James Baker visited Germany in September to coalesce support for U.S. policy, Kohl initially offered only 3.3 billion deutschmarks (about $2 billion) to help the front line states economically, but he did not at that time offer to pay actual fighting expenses. Kohl’s policy was a thinly disguised attempt to do whatever he could to create the public appearance of German fidelity to the Western cause while avoiding domestic dissent. The CDU’s anti-Iraq pronouncements focused on the human rights violations of Saddam Hussein’s army and the legitimacy granted to the anti-Iraq coalition by the United Nations, rather than on economic or political interests. In fact, Germany’s main interest in the matter seemed to be abstract: The Kohl government was afraid that lack of German participation would hurt Germany’s reputation as a trustworthy ally, thereby making it more difficult to play a major role in the post-Cold War order. As the United States moved closer to engaging in violent conflict with Iraq, the German leadership realized that it could not straddle the fence much longer. A day before the UN ultimatum to Iraq ran out, Helmut Kohl stated that the peace was not endangered by the United States or the United Nations but had already been broken by Iraq.7 When the war broke out the result was reminiscent of the Pershing missile crisis a decade earlier, with demonstrations against the war in Bonn, Berlin, and other German cities. On January 26, 1991, more than 200,000 protesters converged on Bonn, and the peace movement mobilized demonstrations across the country.8 While the public in the United States and other European states rallied to support the war, Germans were rallying against it. Due to deep Cold War antimilitarism, especially on the left, supporting the West in a military conflict brought about a public reaction that was out of step with the rest of Europe. Unlike the missile crisis a decade earlier, however, the protesters did not speak for a majority. Most Germans expressed support for action against Iraq, provided that Germany did not have to participate militarily. One reason for this was the obvious brutality of Saddam Hussein both in his style of governance and his launching of a war of aggression. The analogy to Hitler created a powerful sense among many Germans that his aggression should not stand.9 Surveys showed that at least three-fourths of the

SECURITY AND CONFLICT AFTER THE COLD WAR

151

German populace agreed with the action against Iraq, while as many as 85 percent saw Saddam Hussein as bearing the most guilt for the conflict. Still, a clear majority consistently opposed the participation of the German military in combat.10 German support was premised on the fact that actual German military activity was ruled out. It was not support for a German war, but the kind of solidarity with the United States and United Nations that Germans were used to, reflecting multilateralist norms. In the end, the Germans provided a total contribution of about $12 billion and considerable logistical support, but the domestic debate was acrimonious and left Germany without a consensus about how to deal with post–Cold War foreign policy. The Christian Democrats took the offensive to justify German financial and political support. The Kohl government argued that the war had started when Iraq attacked Kuwait on August 2, 1990, and escalated to an armed conflict against the entire international community when all efforts to reach a solution failed due to the intransigence and irrationality of Iraqi president Saddam Hussein. The allied attack in mid-January was simply an attempt to enforce international law. This is important; with deeply held social norms against war, military confrontation was easier to defend as something akin to a police action.11 The CDU/CSU justified the choice of military intervention by arguing that continued sanctions and other avenues toward ending the conflict had failed to work, making force an unfortunate necessity: the ultima ratio, the last resort. Wolfgang Bötsch, for example, argued that “diplomacy without power is ineffective. Aggressors must be countered with determination if one is to keep them from future surprise attacks.”12 The Christian Democrats described the attempt to find a peaceful solution before allied bombing as “massive” and “unprecedented,” suggesting that the West did everything possible to avoid having to take the step of military action.13 This approach made the choice that of war versus appeasement rather than war versus adopting another means of resolving the conflict. Comparisons of Saddam Hussein to Adolf Hitler were common, suggesting that appeasement would work as well with Hussein as it did with Hitler. The CDU argued that action by the international community would construct the foundation of a future peace order by demonstrating the capacity and will of the West to respond to aggression. The war was a “fight for peace” and a “fight for freedom,” continuing the Cold War emphasis on peace and freedom as connected and potentially threatened. 14 As Helmut Kohl declared, “A lasting and dependable

152

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

peace can only grow from the soil of freedom, law and justice.” In this light, pacifism represented fear and would lead to capitulation of the values on which true hopes for peace rested; not fighting would be acquiescence to terror and acceptance of the spread of violence.15 According to the government, the reason for German involvement was to work for human rights, international law, and Western values. The government did not suggest that the war should be fought even in part for economic interests or concern about oil supplies. For the Christian Democrats, the reason for the war centered on the person of Saddam Hussein. His blatant disregard for international law made war necessary to enforce justice and lay the foundation for a future peace order. The Christian Democrats reminded the public of how the United States had saved Germany from Hitler, and then prevented communism from expanding westward after 1945. Because Saddam was someone like Hitler or Stalin, the CDU charged the SPD and the peace movement with “shamefully” ignoring the debt Germany owed the United States. Protests were labeled “anti-American,” and in one attack aimed at the governor of Lower Saxony, future chancellor Gerhard Schröder, Rudolf Kraus (CSU) called the protests “treasonous” (verräterisch).16 Constant appeals to people’s memories of the Berlin airlift, postwar care packages, U.S. support for Germany against communism, and the importance of NATO to Germany, were made in an effort to claim that Germany owed it to the United States not to betray that friendship in a time of crisis.17 The argument went beyond loyalty, however, claiming that Germany—especially a unified Germany—had a responsibility to play a part in establishing an international community founded on the values of the West and to promote the community of values that had withstood the threat from communism.18 Drawing on traditional Cold War pacifism, the Social Democrats entered the prewar debate with a clear and consistent position. Once the war started, however, their position was challenged in ways unimaginable during the Cold War. At that time, war had been associated with specific negative consequences, as the template for what war would mean had been nuclear holocaust. Party leader Hans-Jochen Vogel, citing potential ecological, political, and economic catastrophes, claimed in early January that military force to remove Iraq from Kuwait was unacceptable even as a last resort. Vogel warned that the war could become atomic, emphasizing the unpredictable nature of armed conflict.19 Throughout the conflict, the SPD stressed the horrors of war, including death, destruction, the suffering of innocent women and chil-

SECURITY AND CONFLICT AFTER THE COLD WAR

153

dren, and desolated cities.20 When the land war began, they expressed concern for the retreating Iraqis who survived weeks of intense bombardment in bunkers and for civilians suffering both from a repressive government and from a war that inevitably would hurt innocent citizens as much as, if not more than the elites.21 The SPD followed the lessons learned from World War II: War is unpredictable, causes pain and anguish for all involved, and should be rejected as a means of policy. By the end of the war, however, the inability of the party to deal with this new sort of conflict became apparent. After the Scud missile attacks on Israel, the SPD was forced to alter its rhetoric; the attack on Israel greatly weakened German opposition to the war.22 Here the two lessons of history collided. War is unacceptable, but so are attacks on Israel. War is an evil, but fighting Adolf Hitler’s Germany had been proper. With threats of “German gas” (Iraqi chemical weapons made partially with German assistance) being used on innocent Jews by a man often compared to Hitler, the historical parallels with the Holocaust were impossible to escape. Stunned, the Social Democrats joined the CDU in blaming Saddam for the conflict, comparing him to dictators like Hitler or Stalin. In so doing the SPD sabotaged its ability to justify antiwar positions and offered only feeble opposition for the rest of the war. It continued to call for an alternative to military conflict, stressing the unpredictability and potential apocalyptic repercussions if no peaceful solution could be found. When allied military success made it apparent that the war would be limited, those warnings rang hollow. Most Social Democrats did not have their heart in opposing the war by the end, and they had no alternative except to question the way the whole conflict was handled from the beginning. The SPD had discovered that Cold War pacifism, based on fear of a war of nuclear annihilation between two superpowers, did not work in the new era. While the CDU/CSU definition of the conflict led to a view that since Saddam Hussein was irrational and evil, war was an unfortunately necessary ultima ratio, SPD arguments that the war was per se unjustified rested on claims that negotiations and sanctions might have worked if given a chance.23 With the SPD condemning Saddam as a madman after the attacks on Israel, the argument that something else might have worked was not credible; it is difficult to argue that an opponent is evil and insane, yet at the same time someone with whom it is possible to negotiate.24 When some in the party continued calls for all sides to adopt a cease-fire and negotiate, others objected, including the party’s most popular figure, Willy Brandt, who argued that the idea of a

154

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

cease-fire should be tied to a willingness of Saddam Hussein to pull his forces out of Kuwait. 25 In essence, the SPD had no counter to the Christian Democratic argument that the war was the ultima ratio. Their entire antiwar perspective was based on fear and moralism, and both were called into question. Fear seemed out of place given allied success against the Iraqi war machine, while the moral arguments were weakened by the attacks against Israel. Despite overall German support for the effort against Iraq, there is little to suggest that Kohl’s balancing act managed to create a new foreign policy consensus on how to deal with post–Cold War military dilemmas. The survival of the Hussein regime and the suffering of Kurds and Shi’ites tarnished the victory.26 As soon as two and a half weeks after the war’s end, the Social Democrats called on the government to hold off paying the German contribution, claiming that the United States was actually profiting from the conflict.27 The FDP stood by the coalition, but Foreign Minister Hans Dietrich Genscher did not appear as interested in developments, being described by one analyst as seeming “aloof” to the conflict. As time passed, Olaf Feldmann of the FDP argued for nonmilitary measures for future conflict prevention.28 Iraq was seen by many as an anomaly, and the lesson was to learn from what caused the conflict and act to prevent other crises from getting so bad that war seems the only option. Despite loyalty to the coalition, many Free Democrats were closer to the SPD on military issues in the early 1990s.29 This lack of consensus is more striking when one considers that the use of German troops in the conflict was never a serious option, and as with the Cold War, Germans could safely hide behind their constitution while offering rhetorical and financial support. Still, it became painfully clear to German leaders that this sort of episode was not something that could be repeated. Patience for German reluctance to provide front-line troops was thin. It was clear that more would be expected from Germany in the future. During the Cold War, Ostpolitik was enough to convince those opposed to using the military as a means of policy to accept the Bundeswehr and NATO alliance. It was a defensive alliance dedicated to keeping the peace. Justifying intervention and active military engagement was a very different matter. The impact of this controversy on the German policy debate is apparent in a story in the Süddeutsche Zeitung on June 20, 1991, in which Stephan Wehkowsky points out two opposing views involving German foreign policy. Volker Rühe (then CDU general party secretary,

SECURITY AND CONFLICT AFTER THE COLD WAR

155

and later defense minister), and journalists such as Josef Joffe and Peter Merseberger argued for a transatlantic definition of German interests, with more intense German cooperation with the United States and NATO. The other view was associated with Egon Bahr and many in the peace movement and the Green Party. Bahr claimed that the Germans should not simply conform to the wishes of the United States and others but instead should assess the danger of an attack on Germany and plan strategy accordingly—in other words a Sonderweg (special path) reminiscent of Kurt Schumacher’s position but suddenly more feasible in the post–Cold War era. There was little understanding in England and the United States for the hesitant greeting the Gulf War received in Germany and a sense of both domestic and international disdain for Germany’s policy of “grabbing for the checkbook.”30 Within a year, however, a crisis arose within Europe that would be a vehicle through which Germany could explore its post–Cold War options and start to bring together the apparently divergent views of Rühe and Bahr—the breakup of Yugoslavia and the resulting Serbo-Croatian conflict. The Serbo-Croatian Conflict

Otto von Bismarck once noted “to me the Balkans are not worth the healthy bones of a single Pomeranian grenadier.”31 Yet trouble in the Balkans led to the outbreak of World War I, a need to help Italy subdue the Serbs pushed back Hitler’s 1941 invasion of Russia from May to mid-June, with potentially devastating consequences for the German army, and in the 1990s Balkan violence would force Germans to redefine their norms on the use of military force. Whereas the Gulf War brought two vastly different points of view on German policy to light, the Serbo-Croatian crisis a few months later in the fall of 1991 found a surprising harmony. Events in Yugoslavia led the SPD to reexamine its position, moving closer to the CDU in terms of supporting possible German participation in UN-backed missions (at that time only in the form of peacekeeping, blue-helmet missions), as well as taking a stand in supporting the diplomatic recognition of Slovenia and Croatia. Except for the PDS, nearly every political party supported some sort of German action against Serbia and in favor of Croatia; none supported direct military action. Still, it marked recognition by all parties that certain principles united them on matters of foreign policy, and it was the first step toward a consensus that would

156

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

emerge by the end of the decade. It also brought about the first clash between German foreign policy goals and those of the majority of the West, suggesting to some that Germany was indeed becoming more brash and assertive. On closer analysis, however, that is an overly simplified conclusion. German policy toward Yugoslavia was built on trying to achieve Western consensus and putting multilateral norms first. The Germans waited until Serb actions and Serb truce violations convinced the rest of the West that Yugoslavia could not be saved. The Balkan crisis began in earnest when Croatia and Slovenia declared their independence on June 25, 1991.32 On July 4, German foreign minister Genscher suggested that Slovenia and Croatia be given recognition based on the principle of self-determination. France vetoed that idea, and Germany acquiesced. 33 By August, despite having allowed Slovenia to leave after a half-hearted effort to force it to remain part of Yugoslavia, it was clear that the Serb-dominated Yugoslav federal government had absolutely no intention of allowing Croatia to secede. On August 9, 1991, Michael Schwelien observed that the Yugoslav state was breaking apart and that the situation caused numerous difficulties, not the least of which was that 600,000 Serbs lived in Croatia and needed to have their rights protected.34 The difficulties Schwelien noted proved insurmountable in the months that followed. By August, fighting was breaking out in the Krajina region of Croatia, as ethnic Serbs living there refused to accept Croatian police or the idea of separating from Yugoslavia. The Yugoslav federal army was sent in to maintain order, and quickly the situation deteriorated into a civil war, with the Yugoslav army fighting against the Croats in order to keep them in Yugoslavia. By late August, pundits in Germany were arguing that recognition of Slovenia and Croatia could help ease tensions by granting them status in international organizations, and, in mid-September, Volker Rühe (CDU) and Karsten Voigt (SPD), who had vehemently opposed each other during the Gulf War, were united in support of recognition. 35 Robert Leicht compared the Yugoslav crisis to the Gulf War, arguing that human rights and stopping aggression were important in the conflict. At the same time, he noted that complications and difficulties in this conflict made a quick and easy solution impossible if the warring fractions did not make their own moves toward a peaceful solution.36 One obvious reason for this apparent consensus was the fact that there were few calls to use force from the outside to solve the conflict, especially with German involvement. The influential Marion Gräfin

SECURITY AND CONFLICT AFTER THE COLD WAR

157

Dönhoff of Die Zeit pleaded against any ill-advised military involvement in the Balkans, pointing out the potential pitfalls and noting that diplomatic recognition would not be a magic elixir.37 The Kohl government, following Genscher’s strategy of staying within the Western alliance on such matters, moved slowly. In the West the attitude was decidedly pro-Serb, as most believed it imperative to keep Yugoslavia united, both for Balkan stability and to prevent it from becoming a model for potential break-away republics in the Soviet Union. Rather than seeing the Croats as victims of Serbia, most in the West blamed the Croats and Slovenians for starting a crisis that had led to violence. Genscher, challenging the pro-Serb view, pointed out in a speech before the United Nations that a state could not be held together by force, and he hoped that the Soviet Union would use its influence on Belgrade to get the Serbs to stop their military action.38 As the SerboCroatian conflict became a true civil war, with reports of death, destruction, and televised scenes of the first real “shooting war” in Europe in decades, domestic pressure on the government to do something increased. After bitter fighting within the SPD, on October 15, 1991, the parliamentary party voted by a margin of 68–57 to call for the recognition of Slovenia and Croatia.39 At the same time, the CSU, whose foreign policy views were usually diametrically opposed to those of the SPD, argued that recognition of Slovenia and Croatia should have taken place in July and that anyone breaking the peace in Europe should feel the full force of United Nations sanctions.40 By November 6, the twelfth truce had fallen apart, and there were reports of destruction in cities like Vukovar and historically significant Dubrovnik. Genscher began to move away from the general European consensus by openly discussing the need for tough sanctions, arguing for policies with the goal of making the recognition of Slovenia and Croatia by the European Community possible.41 Just as the German reaction to the Gulf War seemed out of synch with reactions elsewhere in the West, Germany’s pro-Croatia and anti-Serb attitude was criticized by most EC governments and the United States as counterproductive and irresponsible. Some drew ominous links between the Italian, Austrian, and German support for Croatia and their ties to Croatia’s pro-fascist involvement in World War II. Such attacks on German motives were met with increasingly bitter responses, including criticism from Norbert Gansel, the SPD spokesperson for foreign affairs, who claimed that the foreign ministers of the European Community had failed completely, and that by moving too

158

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

slowly they were partially responsible for the escalation of violence.42 Gansel called for the deployment of UN peacekeeping forces and warned that the conflict could spread beyond Croatia into Bosnia. Few supported views like that of Gernot Erler of the SPD, who argued that the Yugoslavs should themselves solve their problems.43 When Dutch foreign minister Hans van den Broek claimed that the Croats were as much to blame as the Serbs for the fighting, the moderate Süddeutsche Zeitung shot back that such comments spurred the Serbs to ignore EC threats and sanctions.44 As Western leaders slowly started to recognize that Croatia and Slovenia would never rejoin the Yugoslav federation, with blame increasingly placed on the Serbs for working against a solution, the Germans stepped up their efforts to encourage recognition. By midNovember the government was actively pursuing a policy aimed at gaining European recognition of Slovenia and Croatia, warning that recognition by Germany alone or by Germany, Italy, and Austria would be counterproductive. 45 On November 21 the German government requested that the UN Security Council take up the issue of the war in Yugoslavia, and by early December Kohl’s second man in the CDU, Wolfgang Schäuble, joined Volker Rühe and others in demanding full recognition of the breakaway republics, UN involvement, and German assistance to the region.46 In an early December meeting with Croatian leaders, Helmut Kohl promised diplomatic recognition by Christmas. This gave Hans Dietrich Genscher the difficult job of selling his European counterparts on a plan to make it a European rather than a German action. When Britain’s Lord Carrington finally did announce that recognition of the two republics was feasible and that Yugoslavia was indeed breaking up, one German newspaper ridiculed the slowness with which other Europeans were recognizing the obvious.47 In a manner that bruised some egos in Europe and irritated officials in the United States, Genscher used all his diplomatic skill and capital to bring about an EC agreement to recognize Slovenia and Croatia by January 15, 1992. 48 Germany moved first, granting recognition on December 23, 1991. Although Lord Carrington and others considered the German recognition premature, and blamed it for difficulties in negotiations, Serb intransigence was the real problem.49 The Serbo-Croatian war and the German reaction demonstrate that German policymakers were willing to take their own approach to policy. They were willing to irritate their partners, but not alienate them.

SECURITY AND CONFLICT AFTER THE COLD WAR

159

Given the domestic consensus for recognition, the fact the government did not push the issue until the rest of the world came around to the view that the Serbs were doing the most to torpedo the peace shows more restraint than most gave them credit for. Kohl and Genscher were lambasted at home for moving too slowly, even as EC states were being annoyed by German haste. Many outside Germany read the German position as reflecting a desire to spread influence into the region, showing that predictions of an assertive Germany wanting to spread power were coming true just a year after unification. Those who feared a return to pre–World War I conditions could not help but see the Balkan backdrop as a sign that their fears were well grounded. Although some claimed Germany’s approach reflected unilateralism, it had worked within Western institutions slowly building support for their position, with an EC agreement on recognition criteria. Multilateralism does not require a state to simply join in an existing consensus, but rather to act to persuade and convince others to go along should they be outside the consensus. Germany did that. Its policy independence was new (though Great Britain and especially France had charted independent policies many times before), but the only whiff of potential unilateralism was Kohl’s personal promise to recognize Croatia. By that time the tide had already turned toward the policy result Germany wanted. Realist and neorealist theories interpreting German policy as a sign of a power-politics effort to extend power in Eastern Europe are unpersuasive given the nature of the debate within Germany. That debate mirrored the Gulf War in its concern for human rights and horror at the way in which a shooting war had come again to European soil. Living in Germany from August 1991 to mid-1992 I observed with fascination the domestic debate in Germany on Croatia, comparing it daily with the coverage the U.S. media gave the conflict. While the United States generally looked at the conflict as a problem to be solved, worrying that if Yugoslavia broke apart, republics in the Soviet Union might see it as a precedent, the Germans emphasized the personal suffering of Croats and their right of self-determination. German television showed the damage done to towns, and activists across the political spectrum argued that the West had to demand respect for the human rights of the Croatian people. Nowhere did the German media discuss the idea of spreading German influence or expanding power in the Balkans, except to ridicule Serb propaganda that Germany wanted a fourth Reich. The coverage and domestic debate was primarily built on the question of human rights and self-determination.

160

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

This difference in perspective, so often read as a sign of Germany’s desire to expand its influence, shows instead a consequence of moving toward a post-sovereign identity. While the rest of the West emphasized stability and order, the Germans focused on human rights and selfdetermination. The German public seemed taken aback by the distrust some had for their motives, having internalized Western values so much that they found the idea of power politics to be distasteful. The CDU/CSU, FDP, and SPD were in near consensus that human rights, self-determination, and Western values were necessary for all European countries and argued that Serb nationalism defied those values. Throughout the crisis there was very little discussion of armed intervention, especially on the part of Germany. In fact, even German participation in a peacekeeping force was rejected due to “historical concerns,” referring to the behavior of German troops in Yugoslavia during World War II. Nonetheless, the controversies involved in the crisis brought many SPD members to consider seriously the possibility that force might be needed to protect human rights. The reason for this change of heart is clear. The Gulf War had convinced Germans that in the post–Cold War era multilateral efforts to counter aggressors and promote human rights and international law were possible. Yugoslavia presented an even more pressing case, as European stability was on the line, with Serb aggression the primary problem. In a move that would have surprised many a year before, the SPD voted in November 1992 to support the potential use of German troops in UN blue-helmet peacekeeping actions, while at the same time rejecting the use of German troops for a UN military engagement such as the Iraq war. Germans had taken one step toward a new understanding of the role of military force, one that at the time seemed dramatic, but in retrospect was only a beginning. During the 1992–1994 intervention in Somalia, Germany broke through another barrier by allowing use of the German military outside of Europe. Although the plan was to send German troops to participate in a humanitarian mission sponsored by the United Nations only after the region was secured by the U.S.-led forces, the Social Democrats mounted fierce opposition and posed a legal challenge to the policy.50 The SPD argued that the 1,700 soldiers being sent would be in military danger, and hence the mission was illegal. The troops were supposed to provide logistical support for an Indian brigade near Belet Uen. The Indians never made it there, however, and German troops were primarily engaged in support and humanitarian efforts.51 The court eventually

SECURITY AND CONFLICT AFTER THE COLD WAR

161

ruled that German forces could participate in United Nations missions outside Europe, but the debate showed that there was still no political consensus on Germany’s use of its military. As this was taking place, a crisis was brewing in Bosnia that would lead Germans to rethink yet again the role of military force in German foreign policy. The Bosnian Civil War

The European decision to recognize Croatia and Slovenia applied to other Yugoslav republics wanting independence as well, as long as they met certain conditions. In Bosnia-Herzegovina the break up of Yugoslavia created considerable difficulties. The ethnic balance of 40 percent Muslim, 30 percent Serb, and 20 percent Croat functioned as long as Yugoslavia was unified. The Serbs could tolerate being a large minority as long as the federal government was on their side; the Muslims and Croats could tolerate Yugoslav rule as long as power of Serbia was balanced by other republics. With Croatia and Slovenia out of the union, the Bosnians had to choose between being in a Serb-dominated Yugoslavia or setting out on their own. They chose the latter, much to the dismay of the minority Serbs, who vowed to fight the decision to leave the Yugoslav federation. The EU recognized Bosnia as an independent state in April 1992, and by late 1992 Bosnia was embroiled in another Balkan war and German policy was again under pressure. In 1993 the Bosnian Serbs looked like they were going to win the battle. They had two-thirds of Bosnia under their control and had driven over 2 million Bosnians, almost half the population of the country, from their homes. The United Nations had to deal with a Serb fait accompli and, lacking a desire to get involved in a brutal and messy land war, found itself helpless as it agreed to evacuate tens of thousands of Muslims from Srebrenica in April 1993, effectively participating in ethnic cleansing. Trying to respond to the humanitarian calamity, the UN declared Srebrenica, Tuzla, Zepa, Sarajevo, Bihac, and Gorazde “safe havens” on April 16, 1993. It then established a presence, sending 24,000 peacekeepers into an area where more than 200,000 people had been killed and more than 3 million turned into refugees. As the events unfolded, there were some initial discussions of using military force to try to stop the violence. Women, including Green Party members Claudia Roth and Eva-Maria Quistorp, appalled by the rapes and detention camps, called for involvement as early as 1992.52 Peace

162

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

researcher Dieter Senghaas agreed, arguing like Roth that intervention could be akin to a police action, designed to stop criminals from abusing innocents. In some cases, Senghaas argued, refusal to use violence will only help aggressors.53 Senghaas’s view was rare among peace researchers. Traditional peace advocates like Egon Bahr were arguing that any kind of military intervention would escalate the conflict and increase danger to the region.54 Most Greens joined Jürgen Tritten in rejecting the police analogy and opposing intervention.55 In November 1993 a Green Party conference vote would show 90 percent opposed to intervention.56 Germans were not prepared for military engagement, despite the evidence of atrocities. The opposition was virtually united in the view that the problems in Bosnia could only be solved politically, and Chancellor Kohl stressed that military action was not a reasonable option.57 The Bundeswehr nonetheless was active both in Bosnia and elsewhere. In the wake of the Iraq war, the Germans helped transport arms inspectors and engage in mine-sweeping operations and medical missions. In May 1992 it began a year-and-a-half mission to transport medical supplies to UN peacekeepers and civilians in Cambodia, hardly a combat mission but nonetheless expanding its external role. From August 1993 to September 1996 it was involved in Somalia, providing logistical support and transport for UN troops. In 1994, after the bloodbath in Rwanda, the Bundeswehr helped transport supplies to Rwandan refugees. In Bosnia itself, the Bundeswehr was involved from July 1992 in the airlifts to keep Sarajevo supplied, as well as humanitarian aid to civilians in eastern Bosnia. This included operation Sharp Guard, to enforce what became an ineffective arms embargo against all sides in the Bosnian conflict, as well as enforcement of the no-fly zone over Bosnian airspace from April 1993 through the end of 1995. German fighters and bombers flew combat missions for the first time since World War II, taking air reconnaissance photos over Bosnia.58 Although German military involvement was steadily growing, the idea of actually sending troops to either act as peacekeepers or engage in active military conflict was not seen as likely. In June 1995 Der Spiegel’s editor Rudolf Augstein argued that war would not solve the problem in Bosnia and that Germany should stay out.59 The German government took an active political stance during the conflict, though the precise role to play still aroused debate. There was no domestic opposition to attempts to act diplomatically in Bosnia, first through the OSCE and then through the contact group, which included

SECURITY AND CONFLICT AFTER THE COLD WAR

163

the United States, France, Britain, Germany, and Russia. Germany not only helped bring Russia into the group, recognizing the important role Russia could play in the Balkans by dealing with Serbia, but Germany’s presence is telling. It originally joined the group to represent the EU during its term in the EU presidency, which coincided with the contact group’s formation. After its presidential term ended, Germany stayed on the contact group, annoying some in the EU who saw that continued presence as a German desire for more influence. Germany stayed primarily at the request of other group members who believed active German involvement was essential.60 Rather than representing a desire to play a Bismarckian broker’s role to enhance German interests, remaining part of the group was an attempt to develop institutional cooperation on the Balkans that included Russia and that could avoid deepening the growing split between Russian and Western policy after 1994. As the violence continued, NATO engaged in operation Provide Promise to bring humanitarian aid to the Bosnians, and efforts to broker a peace agreement continued without success. The dilemma caused by having UN peacekeepers in a region where there was no true peace became clear in late 1994. As the violence continued, it was clear that the UN workers were potential hostages should NATO use military force against the Bosnian Serbs. Foreign minister Klaus Kinkel, having ruled out German military involvement on December 16, 1994, four days later shifted his position to reflect the possibility of German troops being used to protect UN workers if they had to pull out of Bosnia due to intensified fighting. 61 The Bosnian Serbs then violated the most recent peace accord, a deal brokered by former U.S. president Jimmy Carter, and NATO responded with bombing raids on Serb installations. The Serbs, realizing that vulnerability to air power was their weak link, especially as the Bosnian Muslims were becoming increasingly well armed, reacted by taking hundreds of peacekeepers hostage, using them as human shields against NATO attacks. Chancellor Kohl’s cabinet approved deployment of 1,500 troops to Bosnia on June 26, 1995, getting Bundestag approval by a vote of 386–258; the SPD still remained split, with 56 voting in favor of the deployment and 158 against.62 Things went from bad to worse after the release of the peacekeepers was secured. Recognizing that their ability to snatch UN officials made it unlikely that massive air strikes would be called, the Bosnian Serbs decided that they had to strike soon to get a victory. Croatian forces had started fighting again, moving back into the Krajina to try to capture the

164

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

third of their country that had remained under Serb control after the 1992 truce. With the Bosnian Muslims getting arms from the Middle East, the Serbs knew the tide could turn against them. The Bosnian Serbs attacked the Muslim safe havens in July 1995, in a brutal assault that led to the mass execution of at least 7,000 in Srebrenica alone, an act of genocide reminiscent of the Holocaust. The UN, fearing its peacekeepers would again be taken hostage or worse, denied a NATO request to approve air strikes to protect civilians. The events of July 1995 were the turning point for many in the peace movement in Germany. The next month, in a letter to his party comrades, Joschka Fischer pointed to the massacre at Srebrenica— when a refusal to use military force made it possible for the Bosnian Serbs to engage in brutal atrocities—as a point at which it had to become clear to everyone that sometimes the use of military force was not only moral, but refusal to use force might be immoral. As he put it, the Greens would lose their soul if they did not stand up against fascism in the Balkans.63 Slowly the Green Party moved toward the arguments that Quistrop and Roth had been making two and a half years earlier. The images and accounts of Serb atrocities were so brutal that the Greens, remembering the Holocaust and noting that virtually no one doubted that it had been legitimate to fight a war against Hitler, became willing to consider the use of military force. NATO reacted to the Serb attacks by drafting a plan that would remove UN peacekeepers in order to make it possible to allow air strikes and military action against the Bosnian Serbs.64 By this point, events on the ground made it clear to everyone that three years of policies in Bosnia to limit or end the fighting had collapsed in utter failure. The post–Cold War era brought back to Europe the kind of atrocities people had thought banished to the ash heap of history, and neither NATO nor the UN had been able to do anything about it. Coming on the heels of a failure to stop genocide in Rwanda, it was clear that the new world was not easier to deal with than the Cold War era had been. On August 28, 1995, a mortar shell exploded in Sarajevo, killing thirty-nine civilians. While the death toll was small in number compared to the massacres in Srebrenica (whose full scope was not yet known), the vivid pictures from the Bosnian capital proved to be the last straw. NATO implemented Operation Deliberate Force to pound Serb positions and force them to move heavy artillery at least 12.5 miles from Sarajevo. The air strikes proved more effective than people had anticipated, and soon the Bosnian Serbs were in retreat, hit by

SECURITY AND CONFLICT AFTER THE COLD WAR

165

NATO from the air and a stronger-than-ever Bosnian Muslim fighting force on the ground, and finding themselves out of favor with Serb president Slobodan Milosevic.65 At the same time, Croat operations in the Krajina were successful, as they won back most of what the Serbs had gained in the 1992 peace deal. Although the Left had become more open to the idea of military intervention, the issue of German participation in a potential combat role still aroused opposition, with Foreign Minister Kinkel saying in October 1995 that there simply would not be a majority in the Bundestag for such a course of action.66 Nonetheless, the Left’s opposition to German participation in military missions was starting to buckle. Jürgen Habermas, a famous and respected philosopher who would speak out on almost every issue of importance to Germany, had long argued against use of the military to solve political problems. However, in August 1995 he joined Joschka Fischer in saying that this was indeed a case where force was necessary.67 In 1993 Gerd Poppe had been heckled from the stage at a Green Party conference when he suggested that military protection be provided for convoys in Bosnia. Now Joschka Fischer was trying to convince his party that in a case like this, in which the military is not being used to advance national interest or achieve power but instead to work for human rights, the traditional Cold War pacifism of the Green movement was no longer appropriate. Many Greens traveled to Bosnia, where they saw the results of Serb atrocities and learned firsthand how precarious the situation there would be without Western involvement. Such a trip convinced some of the most vocal antimilitarists, like Kerstin Müller, that participation would be moral, and Fischer himself praised the Bundeswehr as the model of a true citizen’s army. 68 At the end of October the SPD agreed that participation of German troops in Bosnia was acceptable, though the party was still split on whether combat troops should be used.69 At this point, the Bosnian Serbs had no choice but to make a deal, and in October negotiations began in Dayton, Ohio, leading to the Dayton accords, modeled in part after the Quadripartite agreement of 1971, signed on December 15, 1995. Bosnia would be a sovereign state, but the Bosnian Serbs would exercise autonomy in areas where they were the dominant ethnic group, while the Croats and Muslims would cooperate in the rest of the state. It was by no means a perfect solution, but at least it stopped the fighting. On December 6, 1995, the Bundestag approved German involvement in the implementation force of the Bosnian mission (IFOR) by a margin of 543 to 107.70 German involve-

166

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

ment would focus on humanitarian aid and rebuilding the country. A year later, when it became clear that continued NATO presence was necessary to assure stability in Bosnia, the Bundestag had to decide whether or not to continue the mission as part of the Stabilization Force (SFOR), which would replace IFOR. On September 26, 1996, the Bundestag voted 499 to 93 to approve the use of the military in a peacekeeping role, not just the humanitarian uses agreed on a year earlier. Even the size of the opposition was deceiving. Though a majority of the Greens supported the decision, Green foreign policy spokesperson Angelika Beer noted that others in her party agreed in principle for deploying troops but had opposed the government’s specific proposal, wanting a United Nations, rather than NATO, presence.71 German policy in Bosnia was reinforced by legal decisions from the German courts, clearing the way for participation in military operations. Earlier, in April 1993, the federal constitutional court overturned an order banning German participation on AWAC flights over Bosnia, allowing combat participation by German troops for the first time since the end of World War II. In June 1994 the court effectively ruled that Germany could participate in UN missions, laying aside the interpretation that garnered a political consensus before 1989, namely that the constitution forbade any military action accept self-defense or participation in the defense of NATO states.72 The court would later side with the government in its acceptance of the 1999 decisions at the Washington NATO summit, which the PDS argued altered NATO’s mission and required Bundestag approval. Both the legal and political impediments to German military action were falling aside. The result was that from August to December 1995 the German military provided support for the protection of UN peacekeepers with a total of 1,750 soldiers. Four thousand soldiers were involved in implementation of the Dayton accords in early 1996, followed by 3,000 soldiers in the SFOR mission starting in December 1996. Since then, German troops in SFOR have stabilized at 1,800 as the mission continues.73 German policy was clearly not based on a desire to gain a dominant role in the international system by showing military strength. Germans were reacting to attempted genocide in Europe, followed by a NATO demonstration that effective action could quickly change the conditions on the ground. Most believed that earlier action might have prevented the atrocities and that the use of the military could not be rejected simply out of principle. However, no major party embraced a role for the German military that was either unilateral, or for any purpose other than

SECURITY AND CONFLICT AFTER THE COLD WAR

167

supporting United Nations or NATO efforts to intervene to prevent humanitarian tragedies. The debate was driven by arguments about morality, the morality of using military means to achieve political ends versus the morality of doing nothing in the face of evil. This new consensus, that military action as part of a multilateral force attempting to prevent or halt human rights atrocities was acceptable, would be put to the test at the end of the decade. The Kosovo Conflict: Solidifying the New Consensus

In 1999 the Balkan wars spread south again, this time to Kosovo, which had been an area of conflict for a long time. Kosovo was the historic center of the Serb nation, the place of its defeat by the Ottomans in 1389, but now a region inhabited mostly by ethnic Albanians. In 1974 Yugoslav leader Josef Tito responded to Serb-Albanian disputes in Kosovo by giving the region autonomy within Serbia. This meant that schools, police, and other government functions would be Albanian dominated, ending control of the region by minority Serbs. After the death of Tito, tension started to rise again, this time with Serb minorities feeling that the Kosovar majority was mistreating them. In 1989 Slobodan Milosevic established his nationalist credentials by removing the autonomy granted by Tito, giving minority Serbs dominance in the region once again. That had been an impetus for Slovenia and Croatia to decide that the Yugoslav government no longer adhered to the federal principles of Tito, and to choose independence. Still, Kosovo avoided armed conflict until 1997, as the ethnic Albanians were poorly armed and the Serb government gave minor concessions in order not to upset the European Union. When the Albanian government fell apart in 1997, leading to short-term anarchy and a raid on government armories, many Albanians sent or sold weapons across the border to Kosovar Albanians who were forming the KLA, the Kosovo Liberation Army. They began a violent revolt against the Serbs, engaging in terrorist acts and attempts to ethnically cleanse Kosovo of Serbs in order to gain independence. The Yugoslavs reacted by cracking down hard on the Kosovars with brutal policies that caused the international community to act. Remembering the shame of allowing atrocities to go on so long in Bosnia, the United States and NATO did not want to wait until after atrocities had taken place to get involved with Kosovo. On January 17, 1999, Serbs massacred forty-five ethnic Albanians in the Kosovar vil-

168

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

lage of Recak. This broke an October 1998 agreement designed to end the fighting, but which neither side had taken seriously.74 The massacre brought back images of Srebrenica to the minds of many in the West who believed that this time they could not stand aside while atrocities took place. Under threat of NATO action, the parties were brought together in Rambouillet, France, where they were to hammer out an agreement to end the fighting and avoid a bloodbath. They could not accomplish the task. The KLA wanted independence, while the Serbs considered Kosovo an eternal part of Serbia. The KLA ultimately signed the accords, but the Serbs refused. After talks broke down Serb activity picked up, creating a crisis by early March. NATO decided that this time it would be better to act quickly, believing that diplomacy plus a willingness to use air power would bring the Serbs into line. However, Kosovo was not Bosnia. On March 24, 1999, NATO launched an air offensive against Yugoslavia to try to force the government of Slobodan Milosevic to sign the previous month’s Rambouillet agreement limiting Serb control in Kosovo. In response the Serbs instituted a plan of ethnic cleansing, ultimately sending 900,000 Kosovar Albanians across the border into Albania and Macedonia. Whether they thought they could get away with a long-term population shift is unclear. They may have been motivated by tactical goals, such as hindering the deployment of forces along the border capable of launching a ground war or spreading unrest to Macedonia by upsetting its precarious Albanian-Macedonian ethnic balance. However, this turned out to be a public relations disaster for the Serbs as the war was no longer to get Serbia to sign a peace accord, but could be seen as a reaction to mass expulsions and violence against innocents. NATO’s attacks were an unprecedented out-of-area, aggressive, use of NATO power, fully supported by Foreign Minister Joschka Fischer from the Greens and Chancellor Gerhard Schröder of the SPD. As the air war dragged on longer than expected, accompanied by bombing errors and the unanticipated scope of the refugee crisis, Fischer and Schröder maintained their commitment to NATO.75 When the air war succeeded in forcing the Milosevic government to sign an agreement to leave Kosovo, the Germans contributed front-line peacekeeping troops to the operation, being assigned their own sector to control. The Bundeswehr presence in Kosovo after June 1999 reached 5,000 (the Bundestag approved up to 8,500) in a mission that continued into the new century. Ten years after the fall of the wall, Germany was participating as an equal in NATO military actions.

SECURITY AND CONFLICT AFTER THE COLD WAR

169

The war put new pressures on the German government. It was much larger in scope than anticipated. The air war was supposed to bring about a quick submission from the Serbs, but instead it dragged on over seventy days. This caused relations with Russia to sour, and soon televised images of civilian casualties in Serbia raised questions as to whether the bombing was really helping to end the suffering. On top of that, the unpredictability of war was demonstrated in May when NATO accidentally bombed the Chinese embassy in Belgrade. The war began only six months into the new SPD-Green government under Gerhard Schröder, testing a coalition that relied on former members of the peace movement, skeptical of military involvement, to survive. Despite the changes in the party program made in response to the Bosnian conflict, the Greens were in the toughest bind. The Greens of the 1980s would have been in the streets protesting the war; the Greens of 1999 were in the Bundestag as part of the coalition waging it. Joschka Fischer fought to keep the party together and supportive of his foreign policy, a battle that dominated a raucous party conference on May 13, 1999. Despite angry shouts from those upset with the war, Fischer gamely defended German policy as being within Green ideology since it represented the first war of united modern Europe against the Europe of the past defined by nationalism and ethnic hatred. Though one disgruntled Green rushed to the podium and threw red paint on Fischer’s face, injuring him, the foreign minister reiterated his arguments from the Bosnian war that the Greens had to recognize that sometimes force was necessary to fight against those who would violate human rights. Though rejecting comparisons of Serb atrocities to the Holocaust, he claimed that both human rights and German security were the reasons for participation in a conflict that would “determine the future of Europe.” One criticism was that the war was not a United Nations war but a NATO one, contrary to the principles of German policy, which had only approved the use of force in a UN context. Fischer agreed that was troubling but argued it was a unique exception to the rule, not a precedent.76 Fischer told the Greens that this was the first real test of the RedGreen coalition; if it failed, it might be a long time before they had the chance again. They could not torpedo the coalition six months into the experiment without handing the Right in Germany a major victory. Begrudgingly, the party faithful agreed, though they made clear their concerns. The Women’s Council, for instance, demanded a pause in the bombing, saying that too much emphasis was being put on maintaining

170

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

NATO credibility, rather than truly helping the refugees.77 Foreign policy expert Angelika Beer criticized the lack of diplomatic efforts to solve the Kosovo crisis, blaming both the Serbs and NATO.78 The party was adamant in its opposition to a ground war, helping to harden Germany’s position and irritating the British and Americans.79 Clearly, the Greens were critical of the hard-line approach taken by the United States and Britain in handling the crisis. They had to stay loyal in order to save the coalition, but they did so while holding their noses. The vote was 444–318 in favor of supporting the government’s position. Despite the opposition, the Green Party conference in Bielefeld on May 1999 was called the “Green Bad Godesberg,” reflecting the similarity between the SPD acceptance of NATO and Western integration in 1959, and Green acceptance of NATO policy in 1999. Despite the intense debate, the party proved to skeptics that it had the ability to govern, dispelling conservative claims the Greens were too radical to be trusted with power.80 This support gave the new German government a chance to show its loyalty to NATO and its willingness to support difficult alliance policies, proving to the West that the Red-Green coalition was strong and steadfast. However, as the bombing went on much longer and with less success than expected, the weakness of the coalition and Schröder’s grip on the party was exposed.81 Oskar Lafontaine, who in early March 1999 quit his position as finance minister due to disagreements about economic policy, spoke for many in the left wing of the SPD by harshly criticizing the bombing. 82 Top SPD experts Egon Bahr and Erhard Eppler disagreed with each other over NATO policy in a friendly but public exchange of letters, making it clear that the Social Democrats were split. While Bahr and Eppler could keep their disagreement civil and focused on issues, rank and file resentment of the policy created a danger reminiscent of the NATO missile controversy that brought down the Schmidt government in 1982. The possibility was real that only half a year into the Red-Green experiment, the government could fail. 83 Determined not to let that happen, Gerhard Schröder coyly displayed the qualities that got him to the top. He remained loyal to NATO policy, but behind the scenes he worked to pressure the United States and Britain to accept the Russian-inspired G-8 agreement that became the basis for the peace plan. He assured the Greens and the left wing of his own party that a ground war was out of the question, but he managed to keep Germany publicly united with NATO. Schröder ’s government emphasized the same themes as the Christian Democrats had eight and a half years earlier: loyalty to the alliance, support for the West as a democratic alliance united by

SECURITY AND CONFLICT AFTER THE COLD WAR

171

Western values, and the need to intervene to stop the terrorization of a people.84 The Social Democrats even made this a theme in their ad campaign for the European Parliament election, with newspaper ads showing a photo of Schröder and an explanation of SPD policy: The situation in the Balkans moves the people of all of Europe at this time. The SPD has in this context made clear over and over that we can only correctly exercise our responsibility through determination and a common security policy. We simply cannot accept expulsions and murder. And where diplomacy lands on deaf ears we must be ready if necessary to use military means to intervene. At the same time we strive for a political solution. But empty promises and the continuation of atrocities against the people of Kosovo can and will not be accepted by a responsible Europe.85

Clearly, this was not a war the Germans fought with enthusiasm or with an eye toward promoting national interest. Schröder’s arguments focused on ethical concerns and confronted the meaning of German history: “Especially because we Germans have been guilty in the past we cannot simply stand back and accept massive human rights violations with the contented excuse that our abstinence has something to do with our history.”86 He also stressed that this was not just a German use of military force, but German participation in NATO and OSCE (Organization of Security and Cooperation in Europe) operations. Though the SPD in the early 1990s toyed with the idea of reviving the kind of approach Schumacher took after the war in arguing against Adenauer’s Westpolitik, Schröder made clear that Germany could not take a Sonderweg, and its role was one of solidarity with existing alliances, working as part of the West to achieve its goals. On the right, reactions were similar. In some ways, this could be seen as a surprise. German public opinion at the start of the war was opposed to the conflict. In a poll taken on March 26–27, 61.6 percent were against the war, with only 21.5 percent supporting it in the East.87 The FDP and the CDU nonetheless joined the SPD in supporting the NATO action and stressing the necessity of German involvement for the alliance. Wolfgang Schäuble, CDU leader, noted that there were few internal disagreements within the party for the action, saying that unlike the left-wing parties, the Christian Democrats always understood that war was sometimes necessary. At the same time he was careful to call for a diplomatic solution and reject the idea of a ground war.88 For the CDU the international community was again coming together to protect a group of people who were being violated by a brutal aggressor. In

172

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

1991 it was Saddam Hussein, with the Kuwaitis as the victims; now it was Slobodan Milosevic, with the Kosovar Albanians as victims. An example comes from Wolfgang Schäuble’s statement of April 15, 1999: “This has nothing to do with war, rather with the enforcement of fundamental human rights principles.”89 The fact that this was not a war in the traditional sense allowed the Christian Democrats to focus on seeking political solutions and criticizing aspects of SPD/Green leadership without having to stand against NATO. Karl Lamers noted: I think that we get closer to the answer if we ask ourselves why we do not want to talk about war when we refer to the use of force by NATO against Milosevic. With war we understand a conflict in which the motives and goals are reflected by solid interests, and that is missing here . . . but we must be clear, even if this is not a war in the usual sense of the word, that the rules of war are still valid. That is first the probability that the unexpected will occur, and second, that war tends to spread, and finally success or lack of success is determined ultimately by the clarity and feasibility of the goals. We have already experienced the first, we fear the second, and we’re short on the third.90

For Lamers this meant that there must be a clear political solution and that Germany should not let the Kosovo conflict turn into a full-blown war. Ground troops, for instance, were uniformly rejected by the CDU, as Paul Breuer unequivocally stated: “The CDU/CSU wants to exclude from consideration anything that would lead to an infeasible escalation. Therefore the CDU/CSU has insisted and continues to insist that we must avoid a ground war using all our means.” 91 The conflict also served to focus attention on the need for a European role in securing peace. Edmund Stoiber, head of the Bavarian CSU, reacted to events by stressing the need for NATO solidarity. However, he also went into detail about the need for Germany not to alienate the Russians, as well as for Europe to develop the competence to deal with European matters more effectively.92 Only the PDS stood steadfastly against German involvement in the war against Yugoslavia, claiming to represent true antimilitarism and basking in the chance to undercut the Greens’ claim to be the party of pacifism. They argued that the intervention was illegal, as it did not have UN approval, something that bothered many Greens and some in the SPD as well. They claimed that the justification for the air war made no sense. The government pointed to the hundreds of thousands of

SECURITY AND CONFLICT AFTER THE COLD WAR

173

refugees created by Serb ethnic cleansing as a reason for participation in the conflict, but the ethnic cleansing really only began after the NATO attacks started. Before, there had been some atrocities, but they were committed by both the KLA against the Serbs, and by the Serbs against a small number of villages in KLA territory. On the Bundestag floor Gregor Gysi argued that there had to be something else between doing nothing and launching a military strike. He claimed that only civilians suffer in such attacks, not the dictators or generals.93 These arguments are interesting because they mirror many SPD arguments early in the Gulf War and are similar to peace movement arguments during the Cold War. Though the PDS was, by 1999, outside the consensus, its arguments were well within the normal framework of German foreign policy discourse. Here the major parties joined forces to respond to the PDS by noting the necessity of NATO solidarity and accused the PDS of near treason, showing its totalitarian roots by allegedly being an ally of Milosevic.94 The irony that seems to have gone unnoticed is that Rudolf Kraus of the CSU made a similar charge against Gerhard Schröder when Schröder criticized the Gulf War in January 1991. Though the politicians seemed to settle on a view about the use of force that mirrored the CDU position at the start of the Gulf War (at least in tone), the shift was unsettling to others. In the press, for instance, it was noted that the admonition that war cannot be a means of achieving political results appeared dead: “In our society the result of decades of peace development has created a common sense that war can no longer be seen as a continuation of politics by other means. Now we find ourselves in a dilemma that the NATO forces, and with them the German federal army, under orders from elected parliaments and governments, are now using war to promote political goals, and to end the massacre in Kosovo.”95 Matthias Geis expressed surprise that there was not a significant domestic debate over the policy and hardly any demonstrations for peace. He attributed the lack of domestic concern to the peace movement being exhausted after the debate about Bosnia a few years before, where the pacifists lost both politically and in the constitutional court.96 Jan Ross agreed, noting the astonishing lack of protest, even as there was no enthusiasm for the war. He surmised that Germans had gone through a transformation since 1991, attributing the change to the Bosnian atrocities and especially the massacre at Srebrenica. This compared to the Holocaust in the minds of many Germans, weakening pacifist arguments.97 The public, at the start opposed to the conflict, by

174

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

the end supported it, with 71 percent of SPD and 68 percent of Green members supporting German military involvement. The Bundestag vote was 505–24 in favor of participation in KFOR, NATO’s peacekeeping force in Kosovo.98 Macedonia: German Leadership

The Balkans did not remain peaceful after the Kosovo war, as ethnic Albanians in Macedonia started an uprising to fight for equal rights for the Albanian minority. In the summer of 2001 violence arose between ethnic Albanians and the Macedonian government. Since the Macedonian Albanians were receiving support from the KLA, fears grew that the KLA wanted to promote a “greater Albania” and that Macedonia might fall into the same kind of spiral of ethnic conflict that had been drifting south from Slovenia since 1991. The debate around Germany’s involvement in Macedonia was interesting as, for the first time, there was significant CDU/CSU opposition to the use of German troops in support of a NATO mission, with Chancellor Schröder forcefully arguing that Germany must be a part of any peacekeeping force.99 Former defense minister Volker Rühe, speaking for the CDU, argued that his party would not go along with the use of German troops in Macedonia unless the NATO mandate was strengthened to allow for more than just collecting voluntarily surrendered arms within a thirtyday time period, and unless more money was given to the Bundeswehr. 100 The German domestic debate caused consternation within NATO, as the rest of the NATO members supported Operation Essential Harvest to disarm the ethnic Albanian fighters after an agreement between the Albanians and the Macedonian government. Germany originally stayed out of the planned 3,000 member force (later increased to 3,500) but then decided to join, as Schröder reckoned that Germany had to be active in such a mission in order to play a significant role in alliance decisionmaking.101 Ultimately, the Christian Democrats had no choice but to support Germany’s participation, with one editorial calling the initial CDU opposition “out of touch with reality” (Realitätsfern).102 It is unlikely that the CDU seriously wanted to torpedo German involvement in Macedonia, given its strong pro-NATO and pro-U.S. positions. Most likely it was setting itself up to criticize the SPD in the 2002 election campaign should the Macedonian operation not go as planned or should

SECURITY AND CONFLICT AFTER THE COLD WAR

175

there be shortfalls in Bundeswehr preparedness. The Bundestag approved German participation by a margin of 497 to 130, with eight abstentions. Twenty-five of the negative votes came from the government coalition, nineteen of those from the SPD itself. This meant that, given the small majority of the Red-Green coalition, Schröder had relied on votes from the opposition to approve his plan. Operation Essential Harvest proved successful, though it was clear that one month was not enough time to stabilize Macedonia, especially as the government took a long time to enact the constitutional reforms demanded by its agreement with the ethnic Albanians. Shortly after the mission got underway, the September terrorist attacks on targets in the United States altered the political landscape. When Operation Essential Harvest expired, opposition to its successor, Operation Amber Fox, was muted.103 This operation would be a United Nations operation (while Essential Harvest had been praised by the UN Security Council, it had not been an official UN action), which allowed skeptics in the Greens and SPD to justify supporting the plan. Beyond that, Germany would be the leader in this operation, supplying as many as 600 of the force that could reach 1,000 and commanding a UN force protecting just under 300 EU and OSCE observers. This won Bundestag approval with only the PDS and five members of the CDU in opposition. Five Greens and two Social Democrats withheld their votes, however, showing that there was not complete unity within the coalition. Though world attention shifted to Afghanistan, German involvement in Macedonia by the start of 2002 was considered a success, although the mission, originally three months long, was extended as reforms in Macedonia moved slowly, if steadily. For once, it seemed, a Balkan war had been averted through early NATO action. In late 2002 the Bundestag agreed to extend German participation in Operation Amber Fox for the fifth time, by a vote of 584–12.104 The margin by which the vote passed showed how far Germans had come to not only embrace the idea of peacekeeping operations, but in some cases to do so as a matter of routine. Multilateralist, not Militarist

As with the case of the European Union, German attitudes toward war and conflict suggest that Germany, despite being more assertive and influential, remains firmly in the West. In the Kosovo conflict the need

176

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

to be part of NATO brought two former peace activists, Schröder and Fischer, to lead Germany into its first use of troops in a nondefensive war fought without a United Nations mandate, something that they would have been horrified at twenty years earlier. The debate within the parties suggests the reason for the transformation was not increased militarism but a desire to support multilateral cooperative organizations. The war was defended in terms of human rights and Western solidarity, not as a war of German national interest. The focus is on Europe and European policies, rather than simply German policy.105 The foreign policy identity of a Germany willing to use military force only in “moral” circumstances and only as part of an international alliance with legal sanction and in support of international law is indicative of what one would expect from a state with a post-sovereign identity, a conclusion solidified when looking at public debate on the conflict. In the decade of the 1990s, two potentially competing sets of principles collided—the admonition against war and violence to achieve political ends on the one hand and the need to work to promote human rights and prevent the kinds of atrocities that occurred during the Holocaust on the other. Though a small number continued to believe that violence is never the most effective or ethical way to respect human rights or respond to atrocities, the bitter lessons of the brutal Balkan wars convinced most Germans that, regrettably, peace conferences and diplomacy do not always work. In each case where disagreements could not be solved through peaceful means, it was due either to a misguided cultural belief system based on nationalism or fundamentalism, or to an evil leader who manipulated his people. The hope was that once the necessary but distasteful military intervention was over, the international community could work to eliminate the kind of thinking that made that intervention necessary and build a stable system where peaceful solutions are possible. In the wake of the Macedonian case, there was optimism that timely intervention could indeed prevent a crisis from spiraling out of control. Germany’s multilateralist post-sovereign policy style worked well in the 1990s to undertake a major shift in how military policy is understood and used, without sacrificing basic principles. Without the emphasis on multilateral cooperation and the promotion of the West as a “community of common values,” Germany could have responded to the events of the 1990s either by withdrawing into neutral isolationist position, or reaching back to pre-1933 traditions to redefine Germany’s role in Europe. Neither happened; Germany’s approach to world politics

SECURITY AND CONFLICT AFTER THE COLD WAR

177

allowed both Kohl and Schröder to engineer an adaptation of German foreign policy to a new and very different environment while maintaining the norms and principles guiding that policy. Given the drama and dilemmas of the 1990s, that Germans were able to accomplish this with relative ease and stability reflects the efficacy of their policy logic. The difficulty in reaching the new consensus, and the fact it is based on moral imperatives, requiring legal multilateral action without using the military to advance specific national interest, reinforces what would be expected of a post-sovereign state. Still, the issues surrounding the use of the military remained contentious in German politics, as would be clear in the response to the September 2001 terrorist attacks on the United States and subsequent debate on possible war against Iraq. Notes

1. Mutz, Krell, and Wismann, Friedensgutachten 1992, p. 1. In the list of “Recommendations” at the beginning of this yearly journal of progress in peace research, the three major peace research centers agreed that although conflicts should be avoided, “the CSCE should be empowered to have not only blue helmet troops at their disposal but also multinational attack forces.” The Federal Republic of Germany would participate as the CSCE set up a European Peace Order. These recommendations caused a backlash from “traditional” peace researchers eschewing potential military solutions to political problems (Frankfurter Rundschau, July 8, 1992). However, by the end of the decade such ideas were rejected even by the Greens as too constraining on German policy. 2. Mutz, “Deutsche Aussenpolitik,” p. 1. 3. Hellmann, Neue deutsche Außen- und Sicherheitspolitik? 4. Although raising eyebrows when used by Chancellor Schröder and other German leaders, Germans are careful not to posit German interests in a narrow self-interested context. Perhaps former president Roman Herzog sums up the German view best: “German interests are first our immediate national interests such as security and maintaining our well being. There is no sense in being silent about that. Our partners wouldn’t believe us anyway if we said that we are led only by international altruism” (Deutschlands Rolle in Europa und die Wel, CDU Dokumentation, 2001). 5. Roos, “Bundeswehr Embraces Defense Reform,” pp. 20–22. 6. Welsh, “Four Years and Several Elections Later,” pp. 43–60. 7. Kaiser and Becher, Deutschland un der Irak-Konflikt, p. 26. 8. Cooper, Paradoxes of Peace, p. 252. 9. Ibid., pp. 256–260. 10. On January 28, 1991, ZDF (a German television network) presented a survey involving 1,000 West Germans and 1,100 East Germans that showed that 75 percent supported the war compared to 21 percent opposed. On February 5, 1991, the other main German TV station, ARD, offered an INFAS-

178

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

survey, showing 76 percent agreement with compared to 23 percent rejection of allied policy. According to another ARD survey from January 15, 1991, 75 percent of the people were against sending German troops into the conflict, although a survey in Die Zeit in September 1990 showed that nearly half considered military force acceptable if the United Nations were to officially request action or if German citizens were in danger. Kaiser and Becher, Deutschland und der Irak-Konflikt, p. 27. 11. Dr. Alfred Dregger, chairman of the CDU/CSU parliamentary faction, CDU/CSU Pressedienst, January 22, 1991, and Max Streibl, CSU chairman and Bavarian minister president, “Was ist los mit den Deutschen,” Bayernkurier, February 2, 1991. 12. “Beitrag zur Kriegsverhinderung,” Diese Woche im Bundestag, CDU/CSU Bundestagsfraktion, January 24, 1991, p. 8. 13. UID, CDU-Informationsdienst, February 7, 1991. See also UID, CDU-Informationsdienst, January 24, 1991; Wolfgang Bötsch, CSU PresseMitteilungen, February 24, 1991; Prof. K.-H. Hornhues, CDU/CSU Fraktion, CDU/CSU Pressedienst, February 28, 1991; Der Krieg am Gulf: Argumente, CDU/CSU Fraktion, February 1991; Max Streibl, “Was ist los mit den Deutschen,” Bayernkurier, February 2, 1991; “Dringlichkeitsantrag,” CSU/FDP joint proposal, Bavarian Landtag Drucksache, January 29, 1991; and Wolfgang Bötsch, “Beitrag zur Kriegsverhinderung,” Diese Woche im Bundestag, January 18, 1991. 14. Dr. K.-H. Hornhues, “Aggression zahlt nicht,” CDU/CSU Pressedienst, February 28, 1991. See also Dr. Alfred Dregger, CDU/CSU Pressedienst, February 28, 1991; Dr. Wolfgang Bötsch, CSU PresseMitteilungen, February 28, 1991; and UID, CDU-Informationsdienst Union in Deutschland, January 24, 1991. 15. Theo Waigel, “Wir stehen zu unseren Freunden!” Bayernkurier, February 2, 1991; Alois Glück, “Für Freiheit, Frieden und Recht,” Bayernkurier, February 9, 1991. 16. Rudolf Kraus, CSU Presse-Mitteilungen, January 22, 1991. 17. Examples include CSU Presse-Mitteilungen, January 22, 1991; “Späth mahnt Solidarität mit den Alliierten an,” Stuttgarter Zeitung, January 28, 1991; Max Streibl, “Was ist los mit den Deutschen?” Bayernkurier, February 2, 1991; and “CSU Wehrpolitiker: Stunde der Loyalität,” Bayernkurier, February 23, 1991. 18. Dr. Gerhard Stoltenberg, defense minister, ARD-Aktuell Extra, January 30, 1991; Karl Lamers, “Zur Einstellung der Feindseligkeiten im Golfkrieg,” CDU/CSU Pressedienst, February 28, 1991. 19. “Aktionstag der Friedensbewegung am Samstag gegen Golfkrieg,” Parl-Polit-Pressedienst, January 7, 1991; “Vogel: Krieg am Golf wäre größeres Ubel, als die Annexion Kuwaits,” Parl-Polit-Pressedienst, January 11, 1991; Hans-Jochen Vogel, “Keine deutschen Soldaten für den Golf-Krieg,” Presseservice der SPD, January 21, 1991. 20. “Vogel: Krieg am Golf wäre größeres Ubel, als die Annexion Kuwaits,” Parl-Polit-Pressedienst, January 11, 1991; “SPD-Resolutionen fordern sofortige Feuereinstellung,” Parl-Polit-Pressedienst, January 17, 1991;

SECURITY AND CONFLICT AFTER THE COLD WAR

179

Duve Freimut, “Gedanken mitten im Krieg,” Sozialdemokratischer Pressedienst, January 22, 1991; Johannes Rau, “Jetzt geht es darum, den Krieg zu beenden,” Sozialdemokratischer Pressedienst, January 25, 1991. 21. Hans-Jochen Vogel, “Vogel zur Feuerpause am Golf,” Die SPD im Deutschen Bundestag, February 28, 1991; Hans-Jochen Vogel, “zum Ende der Kampfhandlungen am Golf,” Presseservice der SPD, March 4, 1991. 22. Prince, “Under Construction: The Berlin Republic,” pp. 120–123. 23. “SPD-Resolutionen fordern sofortige Feuereinstellung,” Parl-PolitPressedienst, January 17, 1991; Norbert Gansel, “Hallo Europa,” RTL Plus (Fernseh-Hörfunkspiegel), January 17, 1991; “SPD: Den Krieg sofort beenden,” Die SPD im Deutschen Bundestag, January 31, 1991. 24. Hans-Jochen Vogel, “Keine deutschen Soldaten für den Golf-Krieg,” Presseservice der SPD, January 21, 1991; Hans-Jochen Vogel, “Mitteilung für die Presse,” Presseservice der SPD, January 29, 1991; Heidemarie WieczorekZeul, “Zur Diskussion innerhalb der SPD-Führung um den Golfkrieg,” DFL— Informationen am Morgen (Fernseh-Hörfunkspiegel), January 29, 1991; Herta Däubler-Gmelin, “Zu Friedensdemonstrationen,” DFS Report Extra (FernsehHörfunkspiegel), January 22, 1991. 25. Willy Brandt, “Zu Fragen des Golfkonflikts,” DFL—Interview der Woche, (Fernseh-Hörfunkspiegel), February 4, 1991; “SPD: Den Krieg sofort beenden,” Die SPD im Deutschen Bundestag, January 31, 1991; Hans-Jochen Vogel, “Zum Golfkrieg und zu den Friedensaussichten,” SR—Informationen am Morgen (Fernseh-Hörfunkspiegel), February 27, 1991. 26. “Lage der Kurden nach dem Golfkrieg,” Deutscher Bundestag, 12. Wahlperiode, March 30, 1991; Heidemarie Wieczorek-Zeul and Hermann Scheer, “Mitteilung für die Presse,” Presseservice der SPD, April 4, 1991; “Mitteilung für die Presse,” Presseservice der SPD, April 10, 1991. 27. SPD press release, March 17, 1991. 28. Gutjahr, German Foreign and Defense Policy After Unification, pp. 89–90. 29. Gutjahr, German Foreign and Defense Policy After Unification, p. 101. 30. Stephan Wehkowsky, “Abmarsch in Richtung Sonderweg,” Süddeutsche Zeitung, 20 June 1991. 31. Kim Lucian, “German Sheds its Pacifist Role,” Christian Science Monitor, April 1, 1999. 32. The reasons for declaring independence were numerous, including the fact that the Yugoslav government had become dominated by Serb interests, reflecting growing Serb nationalism. They accused the federal government of diverting tax dollars from the wealthier north to pay for projects in Serbia, and pointed to how Serb president Slobodan Milosevic had stripped autonomy from the province of Kosovo in 1989 to demonstrate Serb nationalism. See Glenny, The Fall of Yugoslavia. 33. Ramet and Coffin, “German Foreign Policy Towards the Yugoslav Successor States, 1991–1999,” p. 49. 34. Michael Schwelien, “Ein Staat zerbirst,” Die Zeit, August 9, 1991. 35. Werner Perger, “Ein Weg voller Dornen,” Die Zeit, September 12, 1991.

180

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

36. Robert Leicht, “Europas jugoslawische Zwickmühle,” Die Zeit, September 12, 1991. 37. Marion Gräfin Dönhoff, “Kopflos in das Chaos,” Die Zeit, September 19, 1991. 38. Werner Perger, “Lob der kleinen Schritte,” Die Zeit, September 26, 1991. 39. Helmut Lölhöffel, “Streit über Anerkennung,” Frankfurter Rundschau, October 14, 1991; Eckart Strohmaier, Parl-Polit-Pressedienst, October 16, 1991. 40. CSU press release, October 15, 1991. 41. Hans Dietrich Genscher, Journal am Morgen (FernsehHörfunkspiegel), November 6, 1991. 42. Norbert Gansel, DLF—Informationen am Morgen (FernsehHörfunkspiegel), November 19, 1991. 43. Gernot Erler, SPD press release, November 13, 1991. Such views were often criticized as being reminiscent of Bismarck’s claim that the Slavic people were not worth German concern. 44. Süddeutsche Zeitung, November 9, 1991. 45. Ulrich Irmer, spokesperson for European affairs of the FDP, DLF— Informationen am Mittag, November 13, 1991. 46. CDU press release, December 6, 1991. 47. “Allzu späte Einsicht,” Süddeutsche Zeitung, December 9, 1991. 48. Germany actually recognized Slovenia and Croatia earlier, keeping with Kohl’s promise. 49. Ramet and Coffin, “German Foreign Policy Towards the Yugoslav Successor States, 1991–1999,” p. 48. 50. Helmut Kohl called the policy a “humanitarian intervention,” which was thus covered by the constitution, but SPD parliamentary leader HansUlrich Klose argued that the decision was “irresponsible” and that the government should show “political sense.” The Kohl plan provided 1,500 slightly armed troops with orders to protect themselves if attacked while aiding in the relief effort. German air force plans had already assisted in the relief effort to Bosnia-Herzegovina (“German Decision to Send Troops to Somalia May Be Tested in Court,” UPI, December 18, 1992). The court ruled in favor of the government. 51. Cooper, Paradoxes of Peace, pp. 247–248. 52. “Es geht jetzt um das Wie einer Intervention: Die Grüne Europaabgeordnete Claudia Roth,” Tageszeitung, August 19, 1992; “Ratlose Friedensbewegung,” Berliner Zeitung, February 22, 1993. 53. Dieter Senghaas, “Wie Gewaltfreiheit den Aggressor begünstigt,” Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, July 7, 1993. 54. “UN Beschluss skeptisch beurteilt,” Frankfurter Rundschau, August 17, 1992. 55. “Grüne Aussenpolitik aus dem Bauch,” Tageszeitung, August 20, 1992. 56. Cooper, Paradoxes of Peace, p. 267. 57. “Gefeiert oder gefoltert,” Der Spiegel, August 7, 1995, pp. 32–33.

SECURITY AND CONFLICT AFTER THE COLD WAR

181

58. Valur Ingimundarson, “The American Dimension,” p. 176. 59. “Bleib Draußen,” Der Spiegel, June 19, 1995, pp. 37–38. 60. “Informeller Haufen,” Der Spiegel, October 2, 1995, p. 38. 61. Ramet and Coffin, “German Foreign Policy Towards the Yugoslav Successor States, 1991–1999,” pp. 52–54. 62. Ibid., pp. 53–55. 63. “Gefeiert oder gefoltert,” Der Spiegel, August 7, 1995, pp. 32–33. 64. “Komplizen der Barbarei,” Der Spiegel, July 24, 1995, pp. 110–114. 65. “Peitsche und Zuckerbrot,” Der Spiegel, September 4, 1995, pp. 22–26. 66. “Länger verheddern,” Der Spiegel, October 2, 1995, pp. 36–37. 67. Der Spiegel, August 7, 1995, pp. 32–33. 68. “Gutes Gewissen,” Der Spiegel, October 28, 1996, p. 34. 69. “Wir sind jetzt dran,” Der Spiegel, October 30, 1995, p. 34. 70. Ramet and Coffin, “German Foreign Policy Towards the Yugoslav Successor States, 1991–1999,” pp. 54–55. 71. “Breite Parlamentsmehrheit für neue Bosnien-Mission der Bundeswehr,” Tagesspiegel, December 15, 1996. 72. Schöllgen, Die Außenpolitik der Bundesrepublik Deutschland, p. 216. 73. “Beteiligt: Auslandseinsätze der Bundeswehr,” Der Tagesspiegel, September 20, 2001. 74. Theo Sommer, “Büffet statt Bomben,” Die Zeit, February 25, 1999. 75. For a detailed account of the unexpected events, internal NATO squabbles, and political and military difficulties of the Kosovo operation, see Clark, Waging Modern War. 76. “Serbien gehört zu Europa,” interview with Joschka Fischer, conducted by Matthias Geis and Gunter Hofmann, Die Zeit, April 15, 1999. 77. “Waffenstillstand—Zurück zur Politik,” Die Grünen Pressedienst, April 15, 1999. 78. Angelika Beer, “Grüne fordern Bundesregierung zu diplomatischen Initiative im Kosovo-Konflikt auf,” Bundesvorstand, Bündnis 90/Die Grünen, April 2, 1999. 79. “Kein Einsatz von Bodentruppen in Kosovo,” Die Grünen Pressedienst, April 19, 1999. 80. “D-Day in Bielefeld,” Der Spiegel, May 17, 1999, p. 28. 81. Gunter Hofmann, “Berlin und der Krieg,” Die Zeit, April 22, 1999. 82. “Lafontaine gegen Nato-Luftangriffe,” Der Spiegel, May 1, 1999. 83. “Lieber Erhard, Lieber Egon,” Die Zeit, April 29, 1999. 84. Gunter Bannas, “Früher als andere sprach Scharping von einem Völkermord im Kosovo,” Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, April 10, 1999, p. 3. 85. Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, May 3, 1999. 86. “Interview mit Gerhard Schröder,” Der Spiegel, June 7, 1999, p. 33. 87. Ramet and Coffin, “German Foreign Policy Towards the Yugoslav Successor States, 1991–1999,” pp. 57–59. 88. “Die neue Ersthaftigkeit,” interview with Wolfgang Schäuble, conducted by Matthias Geis and Gunter Hofmann, Die Zeit, April 22, 1999. 89. Wolfgang Schäuble, “Ja zu NATO Einsatz, Nein zu Eskalation,”

182

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

speech to the Bundestag, CDU/CSU Bundestagsfraktion Pressedienst, April 15, 1999. 90. Karl Lamers, “Frieden im Kosovo bedarf realistischer politischer Lösung,” speech to the Bundestag, CDU/CSU Bundestagsfraktion Pressedienst, April 15, 1999. 91. Paul Breuer, “Ja zu mehr humanitärer Hilfe in Kosovo,” CDU/CSU Bundestagsfraktion Pressedienst, May 7, 1999. 92. Edmund Stoiber, “Der Kosovo-Konflikt unterstreicht Notwedigkeit gesamteuropäischer Friedensordnung,” CSU Pressedienst, April 15, 1999. 93. Gregor Gysi, Deutschen Bundestag, March 26, 1999. 94. Peter Jochen Winters, “Ein Pyrrhussieg der PDS?” Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, April 19, 1999, p. 6. 95. Kurt Kister, “Deutschland und der Krieg,” Die Süddeutsche Zeitung, March 31, 1999, p. 4. 96. Matthias Geis, “Seltsame Stille,” Die Zeit, April 1, 1999. 97. Jan Ross, “Die Deutschen und der Krieg,” Die Zeit, April 1, 1999. 98. Ramet and Coffin, “German Foreign Policy Towards the Yugoslav Successor States, 1991–1999,” pp. 57–63. 99. “Schröder: Nach Mazedonien auch ohne Union,” Der Tagesspiegel, July 10, 2001; Hans Monath, “Frontenwechsel,” Der Tagesspiegel, July 7, 2001. 100. Volker Rühe, “Beschädigt nicht die NATO Autorität,” Die Welt, August 1, 2001. 101. Andreas Middel and Peter Dausend, “Deutschlands Haltung verwundert die NATO Partner,” Die Welt, July 14, 2001. As of this writing no peace agreement had been signed in Macedonia despite continuing negotiations. 102. Klaus Reinhardt, “Der Nato-Einsatz darf nicht zum Spielfeld der Innenpolitik werden,” Die Welt, July 6, 2001; “Mazedonien Einsatz der Bundeswehr,” Der Tagesspiegel, July 16, 2001. 103. Hans Monath, “Die zweite Blamage fällt aus—wahrscheinlich. Kritiker an einem Einsatz werden leiser und weniger,” Der Tagesspiegel, September 27, 2001. 104. Lars Langenau, “Bundestag fast einmütig für Mazedonien-Einsatz,” Süddeutsche Zeitung, October 24, 2002. 105. “Die Antwort auf fast alle Fragen ist: Europa,” interview with Joschka Fischer, Die Zeit, March 22, 2001.

Seven Terrorism and German Foreign Policy at the Turn of the Century

came from the United States that hijacked planes had been intentionally flown into the twin towers of the World Trade Center and the Pentagon. The loss of more than 3,000 lives and the unbelievable sight of New York’s financial district looking like a disaster film caused shock and disbelief, as Germans, like the rest of the world, tried to digest what had happened. Germans had dealt with terrorism before, but nothing as dramatic and horrifying as these attacks. As it turned out, many of the attackers had lived or studied in Germany, including the operation’s apparent mastermind, Muhammad Atta. Atta had studied urban planning at Hamburg’s Technical University, and much of the planning for the attack may have taken place in Germany. As fear spread about anthrax and possible nuclear or chemical terrorism, it became clear that the West was vulnerable in more ways than most people had realized. Increased terrorist threats reflect the downside of the trend of globalization and technology that has altered international politics and social life tremendously in recent years. Can Germany’s foreign policy values deal with these issues? This chapter examines the foreign policy of the Gerhard Schröder era after the Kosovo conflict, focusing on German relations with Russia and the United States. Special emphasis is placed on the aftermath of the 9/11 attacks, including both Germany’s support of the U.S. war in Afghanistan, and the stunning public chill in German-U.S. relations after the fall 2002 reelection of Chancellor Schröder. It was clear even before the September 2001 terrorist attacks that real differences in perspective existed between Schröder and U.S. president George W. Bush. ON SEPTEMBER 11, 2001, GERMANS WERE SHOCKED AS THE NEWS

183

184

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

The differences, which were exacerbated by the acrimonious debate over how to deal with Iraq, do not, however, reflect rejection of a postsovereign foreign policy identity. In fact, it is the striking difference between the German post-sovereign identity and the U.S. realist/powerpolitics foreign policy identity after the election of President Bush that made friction inevitable. This difference also creates a challenge for German policymakers trying to maintain the Atlantic alliance, build a stronger Europe, and pursue foreign policy principles often at odds with the style preferred by the United States. Ironically, Schröder has an easier time dealing with Russia, Germany’s former Cold War nemesis. Though Russia still embraces a traditional view of foreign policy, Germany hopes to convince the Russians that a cooperative approach to foreign policy works best. Russian-German Relations

Given both the history of two world wars and the more recent fact that as late as 1989 Russian plans for a potential war with the West included an initial burst of 840 nuclear weapons on German territory, the warm relations that developed between Germany and Russia during the Kohl/Yeltsin era were welcomed by both sides.1 After the end of the Cold War the United States tended to see Russia as being outside the West and relevant only due to its nuclear arsenal, while Germany and most EU states saw Russia as a part of Europe, with Russian stability and economic growth essential for Europe’s future.2 Boris Yeltsin went from a strongly pro-Western position in 1992 to being more concerned about the loss of Russian influence after 1994. Occasionally he would remind the West that Russia had nuclear weapons, and be it over Iraq or Kosovo, Russia should not be ignored. That uncertainty over Russia informed debates in the West about NATO expansion, the nature of the security threat to Europe, and the future strategy of NATO. When Schröder took office, he and many of his advisers expressed concern that money sent to Russia was being wasted and that Kohl’s approach had been too uncritical of Russian deficiencies. Given that Schröder was the first German chancellor born after the end of World War II, some thought he would lack the historical sense of obligation Kohl had understood. However, Schröder, while not having the same close ties to Yeltsin that Kohl had with his “sauna diplomacy,” maintained the emphasis on Russia his predecessor had developed.3

AT THE TURN OF THE CENTURY

185

One reason good relations with Russia was a priority is economic. Of the $170 billion Russia owes (about $144 billion government debt), nearly $50 billion is to German lenders. Beyond that there is the question of 6.4 billion ruble transfer from Cold War days, with disagreement over the proper exchange rate (Germany wanting 1.2 euros per ruble, Russia 0.32 euros).4 The most important reason, however, is that Germans believe it is necessary to help Russia join the West; instability in Russia is viewed as a security threat to Germany.5 As Gerhard Schröder noted at the tenth anniversary of the German-Russian Friendship Treaty, “Russia is a part of Europe. The mentality of its citizens is of European thought and formed by European culture.”6 Symbolic of this concern, Chancellor Schröder spent the orthodox Christmas in January 2001 with Russian president Vladimir Putin at Putin’s dacha, building what most believe to be a strong personal relationship and understanding, reflecting in part Putin’s understanding of German culture and the German language.7 This closeness allows Schröder to be critical of Putin without creating undue animosity, as exhibited by his statements on the importance of press freedom and concern over Russian actions against NTV, an independent station critical of the government.8 Also symbolic are the words of Bundestag president Wolfgang Thierse on the sixtieth anniversary of the German attack on Russia: “Sixty years ago today German troops attacked the Soviet Union. The German troops brought death, destruction, sorrow and desperation to the land, they opened wounds which today still create pain. We feel sorrow today about the pain inflicted on the people of the Soviet Union and Europe due to actions taken in the name of Germany.”9 Germany’s message is clear: Just as Germany overcame an authoritarian past to join the West and achieve peace and prosperity, so too can Russia. Gone are the early post–Cold War themes of Russian responsibility for the suffering of East Germans. Criticism of Russia focuses on its slow economic and legal reforms and the continuing war in Chechnya.10 Even this criticism is muted. Political leaders support a partnership between NATO and Russia, with former foreign minister Hans Dietrich Genscher praising Russia’s involvement in KFOR, and stressing the need to actively engage Russia on European matters.11 When Putin gave a speech in Germany after the start of the war in Afghanistan, he increased his prestige and popularity among the German people with his command of the German language. His calls for a partnership between Russia and Germany were welcome, giving Putin a status in German public opinion that Yeltsin never achieved. It was nothing like

186

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

the Gorbi-mania of the late 1980s, but Germans clearly want a Russia that will be a friend and partner. Officially, the EU-Russian relationship is stressed more than the bilateral German-Russian relationship. Former defense minister Rudolf Scharping made it very clear that bilateral talks and agreements with Germany were not a replacement for Russian involvement with the EU and NATO.12 It is also clear that Russia no longer sees the EU as simply an appendage of the United States, but as an actor in its own right with special importance for Russia—after all, 40 percent of Russia’s trade comes from the EU, while two-thirds of its foreign direct investment is of EU origin.13 In general, policy issues concerning Russia tend to be discussed in either EU or NATO terms, while German-Russian relations focus on cultural exchanges and helping bring Russia into the West. This includes the opening of a Russian academy in Berlin, a German historical institute in Moscow, and agreements on scientific exchanges and art exhibits. At the same time, analysts call for more actual student exchanges and cultural interactions to overcome the differences caused by being part of separate systems for so long.14 When the announcement was made in mid-November 2001 that NATO was redefining its relationship with Russia to give Russia an active role in the organization, short of membership (which Russia does not want) but including veto power on some issues, it caught some by surprise. Russia had broken off its cooperation with NATO in 1999 in protest of the Kosovo war and continued to reject further NATO expansion. Though it is easy to argue that the Russian change is a result of the “new world” that came into being with the fall 2001 terrorist attacks and subsequent war in Afghanistan, Putin’s policies reflected the pragmatic reassessment of Russian tactics that had been his trademark since he took the reigns of power after Yeltsin’s resignation on December 31, 1999. The United States’s Afghan war and the need for bases in Central Asia gave Putin leverage to get enough from the West to please domestic constituencies in Russia and hasten a change he had already wanted to pursue. Most Russian leaders did not consider a democratic Germany a threat even in the early 1990s and were extremely skeptical on NATO enlargement. 15 Germany has always wanted to avoid antagonizing Russia, but Germans believed that NATO enlargement was a necessary step to assure stability in Eastern Europe. Arguing that the Western community of shared values (Wertegemeinschaft) needed to extend eastward in order to enhance chances of stability and prosperity, Chancellor Kohl oversaw the building of a domestic consensus on

AT THE TURN OF THE CENTURY

187

enlarging NATO to include Poland, the Czech Republic, and Hungary, with 621 Bundestag votes in favor, 37 (mostly PDS) opposed. 16 Germany stepped up its diplomacy to convince the Russians not to see this as a threat and to assure them that Germany would work to assure that Russian concerns are taken seriously within the NATO alliance. The goal is that as the Cold War memory recedes, Russia should be brought into the Western community of values, just as Germany was after World War II. Russian-German relations appear back on the course charted by Gorbachev and Kohl in the late 1980s. Russia recognizes that resistance to the West is counterproductive, and it instead aims to build cooperative arrangements that allow it to enhance its prestige and try to promote economic growth. Germany’s emphasis on multilateralism and cooperation makes it easier for both sides to take that step, especially when Russia sees that European states share skepticism over the U.S. projection of power into the Middle East. The U.S.-led war against Iraq—which started in March 2003 despite stiff resistance from a core of states led by Germany, France, and Russia—brought Germany and Russia even closer together. Telling is the fact that, while Schröder communicated frequently with President Putin throughout the crisis, as of the end of March 2003 the last time President Bush and Chancellor Schröder had had a conversation was November 8, 2002. At least at the personal level, Putin and Schröder became closer than Schröder and Bush.17 Whether or not German influence can convince the Russians to move toward a post-sovereign set of foreign policy norms is uncertain. Russian nationalism remains strong, and the size and history of the country reflect an emphasis on sovereignty and exceptionalism. However, considering how Germany changed after World War II, it is not out of the question that Russia could undergo a similar transformation, especially given the challenges posed by globalization and interdependence. One state that appears unlikely to adapt post-sovereign norms, however, is Germany’s longtime ally, the United States. U.S.-German Relations

The most important bilateral relationship for Germany outside the European Union is its historical tie to the United States. The relationship has often been tense. From Adenauer’s Gaullist tilt in the early 1960s, through Brandt’s independence with Ostpolitik, Schmidt’s inability to get along with President Carter, and of course the missile crisis, the relation-

188

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

ship has often required that the two sides work out very different policy preferences. Given the changed structure of the international and especially the European system, one cannot expect U.S.-German relations to continue as they had before, even if a partnership persists. Helga Haftendorn notes that there are many problems in defining the role of U.S.-German relations or U.S. leadership alongside an emerging European Union.18 A common theme among German foreign policy scholars is that maintaining a partnership with the United States is important. Tilman Mayer sees holding together the Atlantic alliance, even as European integration progresses, as an important task for Germany.19 Germany’s main concern about U.S. foreign policy is fear that the Bush administration will move along a unilateralist path. During the Cold War it was accepted that the United States should lead the Atlantic alliance. Since then, however, Germany and other European Union states do not see the necessity of U.S. leadership and prefer to work with the United States as a partner. This shift is important to Germany; with multilateralism as a goal and with the West seen as a community of values, Germans desire cooperation and friendship with the United States. However, to the extent U.S. foreign policy is defined by principles and values contrary to that of Germany’s post-sovereign foreign policy identity, the relationship will be troubled. In many ways policy thinking in the United States is antithetical to the principles of German policy. Without the Cold War helping keep the alliance together, this difference suggests a potential change in the transatlantic relationship in the future, especially if Germany (as well as others in the EU) and the United States cannot agree on primary foreign policy principles. President George W. Bush was met with mistrust from the start of his administration, beginning with his policy to cut funding for international organizations that condone abortion.20 The Bush administration was accused of choosing a policy of unilateralism, whether with rejecting the Kyoto accords on global warming, promoting a national missile defense system, or not accepting a number of international accords and United Nations decisions.21 As one German editorial argued, this created a situation where voices in the United States who want to simply ignore Europe complement voices in Europe who prefer to move along without the United States, a potentially negative development as both sides need each other.22 Mistrust between Washington and Berlin grew, as issues like U.S. opposition to German firms dealing with Libya on natural gas exploration, or fear that Schröder promised Putin that NATO would not expand to the Baltic states, created an aura of mistrust and mutual stereotypes.23

AT THE TURN OF THE CENTURY

189

On most issues, the Germans treaded softly. One of the first disagreements that arose concerned the Bush administration’s plans to develop a national missile defense (NMD). This involved repudiating the Anti-Ballistic Missile Treaty, a treaty Germans considered important to assuring continued stability in U.S.-Russian relations.24 Even those supporting it were unenthusiastic about the way the United States was proceeding. Christian Democrat Karl Lamers, for example, expressed concern about U.S. unilateralism and argued that Germans should stand up for German interests. He noted that though the CDU in general supported the U.S. position on a nuclear defense shield, it should not be NMD but AMD (Allied Missile Defense).25 Nonetheless, as it became clear that the United States planned work on a missile defense regardless of what others thought, opposition waned. The press and members from both major political parties argued that it is better to be part of the process than standing on the sidelines if the United States is going ahead anyway. At least by cooperating they can share in the benefits of new technological developments and, should the shield be developed, it would be an AMD rather than an NMD system.26 When in early March 2001 Chancellor Schröder made the somewhat surprising announcement that Germany would participate in the early development stage of the missile shield, he was congratulated by former CDU defense minister Volker Rühe, who praised the government for moving away from its unclear statements on the issue.27 The NMD debate was only one of a series of issues where Germans were annoyed and even angered by U.S. unilateralism. One issue of importance was the Kyoto treaty on global warming, which committed industrialized states to reducing their greenhouse gas emissions to 1990 levels by 2012. The Bush administration was opposed, arguing that such efforts would be economically detrimental to U.S. business. After being rebuked by Bush on the Kyoto treaty during his visit to Washington in March 2001, Schröder was determined to do whatever possible not to let the United States kill the Kyoto accords, believing it important to send a message to Washington that the world will go on without the United States if necessary.28 The Bush administration had believed that its refusal to go along with the treaty would force the rest of the world to renegotiate and come up with an agreement compatible with U.S. interests; U.S. national security adviser Condoleezza Rice succinctly told European leaders that Kyoto was dead. Schröder worked hard to make sure that the Bonn conference to decide how to implement the Kyoto accords would not fail, and in a surprise to the United States,

190

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

the rest of the world continued with Kyoto. This first test of strength between Bush and Schröder, won by the chancellor, hurt their relationship early on, and sent a clear signal that Germany would not be as loyal to U.S. leadership as in the past.29 While this looked like a power struggle between two leaders, it was also a battle between Germany’s view that multilateralism should take precedence, while the United States wanted to shape policies to fit its interests. Another issue that separated the two was the U.S. refusal to sign on to the International Criminal Court (ICC), pressuring EU states to sign bilateral deals to assure that no U.S. citizens would be handed over to the ICC, even if indicted. The ICC was designed to give the international community an effective way to prosecute people accused of war crimes or crimes against humanity. Special tribunals set up for prosecution of war crimes committed in Rwanda and Yugoslavia were difficult to institute, costly, and only marginally effective. The hope for the ICC is that it could be an effective tool to punish and deter dictators, tyrants, and warlords from engaging in human rights abuses and atrocities. For the Germans, it was an especially important step on the road to multilateral efforts to enforce human rights standards. U.S. opposition came as a shock to many Europeans, and Germany was adamant that countries should not sign an agreement giving Americans immunity. Ultimately, the EU in late 2002 did give states clearance to negotiate such bilateral treaties, but only if U.S. soldiers and officials had been sent overseas, and only if there was certainty they would be tried in U.S. courts instead. The United States was disappointed with this watereddown immunity, and Germany continued its refusal to consider granting full immunity.30 A pattern had been developing even before the Iraq controversy. The United States preferred to retain its independence from international obligations, while Germany saw that as a dangerous and unnecessary hindrance toward constructing multilateral institutions to promote international law and human rights. German sentiments were reportedly even stronger than their public statements let on. U.S. opposition to the ICC, the Kyoto accords, the Biological Weapons Convention, the Comprehensive Test Ban Treaty, the Chemical Weapons Convention, and the treaty to ban landmines all saw the Bush administration opposing efforts Germans considered extremely important.31 Another issue creating tension concerns defense spending and planning, in particular the future of the Bundeswehr. At the time of unification, Germany had over 600,000 soldiers, taking into account the forces of the old East German state and those of the Bundeswehr. A complete

AT THE TURN OF THE CENTURY

191

restructuring was designed to reduce the number to the 370,000 limit agreed on between Kohl and Gorbachev, and by 1999 the number was actually down to 340,000, supported by 130,000 civilians. Of these, 135,000 were conscripts, serving ten months. Germany has universal conscription, though conscripts can choose alternate civilian service (something that has grown more common over the past decade) and can sign on for a longer term if they desire. Those wishing to participate in peacekeeping missions must sign on for longer than ten months since training requires additional time. In 2000, plans were initiated to cut the force dramatically to 255,000, with an increase in the size of the rapid reaction force to 150,000, reflecting the view that a large army is no longer needed, but rather one ready to move quickly.32 In war the chancellor exercises command and control; in peace the minister of defense is in charge. Since German forces are integrated into NATO, NATO command is exercised through the Combined Joint Task Force. 33 The traditional charge to the military, reiterated in a 1994 defense white paper, is to defend and protect the homeland, provide for defense of the NATO alliance, and maintain a capacity to project power to the periphery of NATO given potential challenges to the alliance.34 Plans promoted in November 2002 by U.S. defense secretary Donald Rumsfeld to create a NATO rapid reaction force of 20,000 to 24,000, with German participation, create a problem. A rapid reaction force by definition must be able to act quickly, but German law requires the Bundestag to approve every military engagement that is not selfdefense, as well as extensions of existing operations. European reaction to the idea was cool, while the United States sees this as a test of whether or not NATO will be up to the challenges of the new century. One problem is that Germans have yet to be able to solve the dilemma of how to modernize their forces in an era of cutbacks in military spending, especially as conscripts increasingly opt for civilian service. Germany has promised 18,000 troops to the EU force by 2003, something that may be difficult to accomplish.35 Some believe that the solution is to follow the lead of other European states that are slowly moving away from a conscript to a professional army. By April 2003 Germany and France seemed to be heading in that direction and away from enhanced NATO cooperation, as they announced stronger efforts to build the 60,000 reaction force with more European military cooperation. Besides discussions on ending conscription, some are considering the possibility that not every country needs to have all types of military forces (army, navy, and airforce). Instead, countries could specialize in

192

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

order to decrease costs.36 This would create a modern and mobile force better suited for future battles more likely to involve high-tech interventions from a distance in order to stop terrorists or end human rights catastrophes, rather than the kind of large army deployments of the past. The problem is that such a change could do damage to the idea of a citizens’ army and risk bringing back the kind of traditions of Prussian military prestige that had been rejected in the mid-1950s. Given that many on the far right see the military as a tempting choice, something currently being battled by Bundeswehr officials trying to stomp out right-wing radicalism in their ranks, the move away from a citizens’ army could have disadvantages.37 It also might be much more costly, as careerists would have to be enticed to serve and given increases in pay and perks over time. Already the cost to modernize the armed forces for new challenges is estimated at over 100 billion euros over the next fifteen years.38 Given the budgetary crisis in Germany, it is hard to imagine extensive modernization soon, as defense spending is not a priority. Even if the terrorist attacks had never occurred, or if the Bush administration had not decided to confront Iraq, problems between Germany and the United States were already raising questions about the future of the transatlantic alliance, especially after President Bush took office and charted a more nationalist and unilateral approach to U.S. foreign policy. While it is tempting to see this as either Germany asserting itself or the European Union becoming a rival to the United States, the fact is that U.S. foreign policy identity and the norms guiding U.S. security policy are fundamentally different from those in Germany. It is unclear how these differences would have been worked out absent another major international crisis. However, in September 2001 another crisis emerged—the terrorist attacks on the United States. Initially, this brought the Cold War allies closer together as they once again confronted a common threat. Terrorism: Responses to 9/11

Almost instantly after the attack on the World Trade Center and Pentagon by terrorists of the Al-Qaida network, Chancellor Schröder promised “uneingeschränkte Solidarität” (“infinite solidarity”) with the United States, a statement whose lack of qualification surprised many in Germany. In the aftermath of the attacks Germans eagerly learned all they could about Osama bin Laden, the Al-Qaida network, and the numerous links that many of the hijackers had to Germany. As the first weeks after

AT THE TURN OF THE CENTURY

193

the attack went by without a major military strike by the United States, Germans were relieved. Fears that the United States would strike out from anger in order to simply show muscle were allayed. At the same time, Germany supported the NATO decision to invoke Article 5 of the NATO treaty, naming the terrorist attack as an act of war against a member state, legitimizing reaction for the sake of self-defense, and promising NATO support for the United States. Still, the reaction in Germany and Europe in general was much different than the emotional sense of fear and patriotism in the United States. Defending the NATO decision, then defense minister Rudolf Scharping noted that “it does not mean we are at war,” a claim echoed by former CDU defense minister Volker Rühe. After all, the NATO treaty requires assistance, but does not specify exactly what kind of assistance states must provide.39 Within ten days of the attack, the German parliament passed a resolution expressing full solidarity with the United States, passing with 611 out of 666 possible votes, with only the PDS showing solid opposition.40 Despite the distance from the scene, days after the terrorist attacks 50 percent of Germans feared that a similar attack could happen in Germany, and 57 percent believed that a counterattack by the United States on those responsible would be justified. The same percentage, 57 percent, also rejected the idea of German participation in such a counterattack.41 As Antje Vollmer, vice president of the Bundestag, noted, the West is an alliance of values, not an alliance of revenge.42 German and U.S. intelligence agencies began working closely together, recognizing that if there were to be a U.S. attack against Afghanistan, and if Germany were to join with the United States in that effort, the threat level to Germany could increase dramatically.43 While supporting the United States, Germany tried to work in other ways to limit the possibilities of escalation, including ultimately unsuccessful efforts by Joschka Fischer to get the Israelis and the Palestinians to revive their dialogue and prevent a wide-scale Middle East conflict.44 Fischer and Schröder each made trips to the United States, both to learn what the United States was planning and to try to shape the response as much as possible, using their pledge of solidarity to get the United States to take German and European concerns seriously. However, as dangerous as external conditions were, and as clear as the apparent consensus on the use of military force was after a decade that brought Germany from the Iraq war to leading the mission in Macedonia, the domestic political scene created the most direct danger to the Schröder government. His own coalition expressed doubt about

194

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

the legitimacy of a U.S. military response to the acts of terror and the wisdom of Schröder’s pledge of “uneingeschränkte Solidarität” with the Americans. By the end of September, Schröder was reportedly speculating with everything from ignoring opposition within his own coalition to forming a grand coalition with the Christian Democrats.45 To many in the Greens and Schröder’s own SPD, the terrorist attack was an act of evil, but one undertaken by a terrorist group that needed to be hunted down and arrested. A war that would cause civilian deaths and potentially bring more instability to a region of the world already wracked by poverty, corruption, and fanaticism was precisely the wrong way to respond. As it became clear that Schröder and Fischer would support U.S. military action, the first rumblings came from the Green rank and file that they would not accept such a move and that it could tear apart the coalition.46 The government was helped by the fact that the United States did not move quickly to attack Afghanistan; such a move would have been seen as an obvious desire for revenge, a mere attempt to show U.S. power, and would have elicited quick opposition. On October 6, 2001, Green Party leader Claudia Roth praised the deliberate pace taken by the United States, even as she warned against overreaction.47 When the war against Afghanistan commenced the next day, Schröder reaffirmed his expression of solidarity with the United States, leaving open the possibility of future German participation.48 The first reactions in Germany to the initiation of war against Afghanistan were supportive of the United States, though skepticism was apparent in the ranks of both the Greens and Social Democrats. While U.S. support for the war was broad and enthusiastic, Germans were subdued, with the churches calling for protection of civilians, and warning against turning it into a war of revenge where the real task of capturing the perpetrators gets lost in the emotion of the moment.49 Former military general Hartmut Bagger criticized the scope of U.S. bombing, arguing that too many civilian sites were being hit, and questioning America’s strategy.50 By early November, as the war in Afghanistan continued, Germans were understanding of the U.S. response but skeptical of the military strategy, and disturbed by civilian casualties and the lack of a legal and political complement to the military mission. No Bundestag faction except the PDS wanted to actually call for a halt to U.S. actions; doing so after such an emotional event would have been to turn on the United States at its most vulnerable and uncertain time, and few wanted that, especially given what it would mean to the Atlantic alliance. In that sense, early German support was reminiscent of the Gulf War, albeit

AT THE TURN OF THE CENTURY

195

with fewer protests. Most Germans did not want active participation in the conflict, though Chancellor Schröder, Defense Minister Scharping, and Foreign Minister Fischer had made it clear that Germany could hardly avoid playing a role. The challenge to them and the German political system came on November 6, when Schröder announced that in response to a U.S. request, 3,900 German troops would be made available for action in the campaign against terror. This put support for the United States to the test, and Chancellor Schröder on the defensive. A comment by U.S. secretary of defense Rumsfeld caused indignation within Schröder’s own party and among the Greens. Rumsfeld claimed the United States had not made a request but that Germany had simply offered the troops. A series of phone calls cleared up the misunderstanding, with the United States noting that it did indeed request assistance, but the whole controversy deepened mistrust about Schröder’s motives, with many on the Left believing that he was too eager to get Germany involved.51 Conservatives critical of the government, led by almost daily editorials from the Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, the most important voice of the German establishment, chided Schröder for not being able to gain a Bundestag majority from his own coalition for such an important policy, suggesting this brought into question his ability to guide Germany. 52 Schröder’s announcement also caused skepticism among the German public. Tübingen professor of international relations Volker Rittberger said he doubted the ability of the attacks to achieve their goals, given the history of guerilla warfare in Afghanistan. Even some Christian Democrats showed skepticism and wondered whether all other possible ways of combating terrorism had been explored.53 Others worried that U.S. goals might go out of control, especially if the war spread to Iraq. Infinite solidarity has its limits.54 Most important, though, was the skepticism within the chancellor’s own coalition. After the cabinet approved the plan to make troops available, numerous members of the SPD and Greens spoke out against the proposal, criticizing their chancellor and expressing their intention to vote against the plan, threatening coalition stability.55 Green foreign minister Joschka Fischer, the most popular politician in Germany at the time, threatened to resign should his party not support him.56 At first the government reacted calmly, noting that since the Christian Democrats and Free Democrats had already signaled support for the decision, a Bundestag majority need not come from the coalition alone; after all, in Macedonia the coalition fell short and had relied on opposition votes for approval.57 However, even as the chancellor tried to brush aside the

196

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

opposition of a few in his own ranks, the number of opponents to the proposal rose even within the SPD, making Schröder look weak, lacking the trust of even his own party.58 Remembering the way a foreign policy split within the SPD helped destroy the government of Helmut Schmidt twenty years earlier, Schröder consulted with Schmidt and other party leaders to determine the best course of action. His decision came to many as a shock. Schröder decided to lay his government on the line and force those disagreeing with his decision to choose between supporting the chancellor or allowing the government to fall. On November 13 he announced that, in accord with the German constitution, he would tie the question of making 3,900 troops available to the war on terror with a vote of confidence (literally a vote of trust— Vertrauensfrage), to be held on November 16 in the Bundestag.59 The next three days were chaotic. Schröder’s move to discipline his coalition was resented by many who believed that this was a challenge to their right to vote their conscience on an issue of such importance as German involvement in a war and that it was unnecessary, given the fact that opposition support assured the plan was going to pass anyway. The Greens, however, realized that if the government fell and their inability to support the chancellor was to blame, their chances of obtaining the 5 percent of the vote necessary to remain in the Bundestag in the elections likely to be called after such a government collapse were slim. Voting against the coalition would be akin to suicide, though supporting the government and angering the rank and file would be dangerous as well. The chancellor had put the Greens in an incredibly difficult situation.60 Many felt Schröder was playing power politics. The CDU/CSU was weak following a scandal involving CDU slush funds kept for years by former chancellor Kohl.61 The SPD was strong, and could potentially secure another coalition, perhaps with the FDP, if new elections were called. The Christian Democrats were angry, arguing that while they supported the plan to make 3,900 troops available for the war against terrorism, they could not vote “yes” to a vote of confidence for Chancellor Schröder. They argued that the government was making it impossible for them to express solidarity with the alliance, playing politics with an issue that should stand alone. To be sure, Fischer had most of the top-level Greens in his camp; his fight concerned a dozen pacifists who were in principle against war and claimed they could not vote otherwise. At the same time news from the Afghan front was getting better; Kabul had fallen to the Northern Alliance, and the rest of the Taliban strongholds were weakening. The idea of a long and dirty land war seemed less likely than before, and many could argue that the ques-

AT THE TURN OF THE CENTURY

197

tion of sending 3,900 troops was theoretical as they would not likely be used. Though this seemed at best a weak rationalization to vote yes, the Greens were grasping for anything to make the choice easier. Within the SPD, a party with a tradition of discipline and without the kind of decentralized respect for individual nonconformity of the Greens, the task was easier. Of twenty-four deputies ready to vote against the government at the start of the week, only one was not brought into line by the time of the vote, forced to resign from the party for the lack of loyalty. The Vertrauensfrage had only been used three times in the history of the FRG. The first was in 1972, when Willy Brandt purposely lost such a vote in order to make way for new elections in order to put Ostpolitik to the voters. In February 1982 Helmut Schmidt used it to force the FDP to follow his economic plans or risk the coalition—a coalition that fell apart seven months later anyway. In December 1982 Helmut Kohl purposely lost a Vertrauensfrage in order to make way for new elections to approve the coalition change undertaken by the FDP who had broken with the SPD and joined the CDU two months earlier. After that, the federal constitutional court instituted new rules to avoid having the confidence vote used to simply get new elections, and in the nearly nineteen years since the decision no such vote had been called.62 Despite the speculation that Schröder wanted to get rid of the Greens and get a better position in new elections, especially while the Christian Democrats were weak and disorganized, Schröder likely realized that the number of negative votes in his own ranks, especially the SPD itself, would have been so high as to create real embarrassment and a perception of weakness. It might also embolden the left-wing of the party to challenge Schröder more aggressively, bringing about the kind of weakening of the party that Schmidt experienced in 1982. If Schröder could win this vote, it would prove him a leader and strengthen his hand both abroad and at home. On the day before the November 16 debate and vote, the magazine Stern appeared with photos of a number of well-known Germans from show business, politics, business, and literature with the title “Prominent Germans demand: Stop this war!” The twelve-page article demonstrated the depth of German uncertainty about the conflict, and the strength of antimilitarism even in the face of terrorist threats.63 While Americans were virtually united in support for the “war on terror,” Germans continued to reflect on the moral and political issues, worrying that this was the wrong path, with too many innocent casualties and too great a chance that the conflict would spread and create more problems than it would solve. With the CDU/CSU and FDP supportive of

198

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

German participation, Schröder could complete the transition that had led from Iraq to Macedonia by showing that the Red-Green coalition had the capacity to approve full German participation in allied military action. The debate that took place before the November 16, 2001, vote provides a window on the views of German elites on foreign policy, demonstrating how deep and resilient post-sovereign norms had become. The post-sovereign identity is evident in both the pro-war and antiwar positions, showing that even in an issue this divisive, a postsovereign identity does not predict what policy will be taken. Schröder represented a greater emphasis on multilateralism, while the antiwar position reflected German antimilitarism. The way the debate developed is quite different than what one would expect if a similar debate were to be held in the United States, and it is worth considering as evidence the way in which Germany’s post-sovereign identity colors how they understand and deal with major foreign policy dilemmas. The November 16, 2001, Debate

Carried live on German television, the Friday morning debate was on two issues: (1) should Germany make available 3,900 troops to participate in the war in Afghanistan and (2) should the Red-Green coalition continue to govern. Yet only one vote would be taken, making it impossible for members to vote yes on one and no on the other. Schröder opened the debate with a calm but determined statement of both why he felt it necessary for Germany to participate in the fight and why he made the issue a Vertrauensfrage. The reasons for participation were first to show Germany’s public, its allies, and others in the world that German policy was dependable and consistent, that Germany could prove it was a reliable and trustworthy partner. Second, the goal was not to fight a war to take over another country but to bring peace to Afghanistan. Schröder stressed the fact that military action was only one of many steps being taken, noting not only that the terrorists had proven their willingness to kill but that unfortunately there are some situations where human rights are so trampled and freedom so denied that military force is necessary to establish peace. Schröder reminded the delegates of the scenes earlier that week when Kabul fell to the Northern Alliance. Women celebrated the ability to show themselves in public without being beaten; men had their beards trimmed; and citizens played music in public for the first time in years. The goal is to establish peace, Schröder intoned, listing the mil-

AT THE TURN OF THE CENTURY

199

lions of marks being used to bring humanitarian help to the refugees and ready to be used to rebuild Afghanistan after hostilities ceased. Schröder consistently stressed the work of the UN and NATO allies, all of whom were participating in a multilateral effort against terrorism. This is an international coalition against terrorism, he stressed, not a war between states in the traditional sense. Turning to Germany’s particular role, the chancellor argued that since 1989 Germany had accepted new duties as a partner with equal rights in the family of nations. This meant that Germany could not stand by and let others do the work in securing peace and security. He also explained his invocation of Article 68 of the German constitution, which allows the chancellor to call for a Vertrauensfrage in issues of fundamental importance. Though he recognized that a majority would support the proposal, he argued that he needed to show the world and German citizens that his own coalition government stood with him and the German government was not divided and fragmented on such an important decision. This would be the only way to demonstrate decisively that Germany could be relied on. Speaking next, CDU speaker Friedrich Merz said that Schröder’s act proved that the Red-Green coalition could not govern effectively. He condemned the “anti-American” voices in both the SPD and Greens, which, he claimed, hurt Germany’s international reputation. Merz strongly supported Schröder’s position on making troops available, noting that if he had not tied that issue to the Vertrauensfrage he would be able to present German soldiers and the allies with a vote of massive support for the effort. The problem, Merz claimed, is that Schröder’s party and coalition partners the Greens are not fit to govern. Wolfgang Gerhardt of the FDP seconded most of what Merz said, and each took the opportunity to trash the SPD-Green record on economic issues, arguing that the coalition had been a disaster for Germany. Kerstin Müller of the Greens argued passionately for a continuation of the coalition, saying that the criticism from the opposition to Green hesitancy on the question was unfair. She reminded her colleagues that the debate about involvement in Afghanistan was a question of hot dispute in society, and it did German democracy no good simply to ignore the concerns of the general public and make it seem as if worries and concerns about such a decision are somehow illegitimate. That, she argued, is an attack on all of those who have deep reservations about the policies being undertaken, including those who remember the horrors of war from the Nazi era. The Greens, she stated, have always been a party

200

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

that put moral concerns above a desire for power, and, unlike any other party in Germany, have struggled with the question of military involvement by Germany in conflicts like those in the Balkans or Afghanistan. She reminded observers that the Greens were a party that arose from the peace movement in opposition to NATO missile modernization, and it was a long hard process of debate and soul-searching that led them to come to the view, especially after the Bosnian massacre in Srebrenica, that military engagement was sometimes necessary. In the tension between morality and power, she argued, it is good to think seriously about the loss of civilian life and to condemn the use of weapons, such as cluster bombs, that kill innocent civilians and are contrary to international law. The terrorist attacks defy the moral values of the West and of the Greens in particular, and the issue of power and morality was a difficult one for every Green deputy. Ultimately, most Greens had decided that in this case the use of military force was a sad necessity, and thus they would support the action, as well as express trust in the chancellor. The goal, she argued, was both to continue the renewal of the German Republic started by the coalition and to play a role in trying to build an international peace order in the twenty-first century based not just on military engagement but also respect for human rights, with efforts to solve or prevent conflicts before they necessitate military intervention. Roland Claus of the PDS argued against the war, claiming that it was the wrong means to use to fight terrorism and that it risked creating a split between the Islamic world and the West, as well as within the Islamic world. Calling it a “dangerous adventure,” he said that Germans did not knew when, where, and exactly in what way their troops would be used or what the precise goals of the war were. He noted as well that support for the Northern Alliance was dangerous given its history, and warned that Afghanistan could fall into ethnic disputes because of the kinds of policies being undertaken by the West. He admonished the rest of the parties for forgetting the civilian deaths and called on Germany to reject war as a means for achieving political ends. Later in the debate, after a speech by Gregor Gysi criticizing both the war and Schröder’s use of the Vertrauensfrage, the most heated exchange came when a member of the Greens asked Gysi if it was not hypocritical for the PDS to talk in such moral terms about opposition to war when the SED had supported the war in Afghanistan during the Soviet era. Gysi angrily lashed back that the PDS had changed considerably from the days of Soviet rule when the SED was a dictatorship, and anyone who did not realize that would have to have been asleep the last decade.

AT THE TURN OF THE CENTURY

201

He said that there was no reason to think the PDS deputies in the Bundestag had not opposed the Soviet war and found it hypocritical for the Green deputy to criticize them for not being more vocal in opposition in a dictatorship when it could have endangered their life and livelihood, while the Greens were unwilling to express their true antiwar sentiments out of a fear of just losing their role in government. Michael Glos of the CSU spoke out against the government, saying that it was shameful that while Britain, France, and Italy had all come out quickly and strongly in support of the United States, Germany had to witness this drama and gnashing of teeth over military involvement, an embarrassment to Germans internationally. He said it proved that the Red-Green coalition could not function effectively, and that the chancellor had erred in making a government with a party that was so split and naive about the nature of international politics. Foreign Minister Joschka Fischer of the Greens responded to Glos, defending both the policy and his party in a stirring speech that brought the Greens to their feet in cheers, but was dismissed by FDP chairman Guido Westerwelle as more of a party convention speech than one befitting a foreign minister and statesman. Fischer had also chided the CDU/CSU about their right to criticize the reluctance of some Greens to support the government when just two months earlier the Christian Democrats had been opposed to German involvement in Macedonia, and were only forced at the last minute to provide reluctant support for the mobilization. Steffi Lemke of the Greens spoke for the eight who opposed the war, and she echoed some of the PDS arguments that war was a dangerous and misplaced means for dealing with terrorism and that the brutality of the Taliban for the last six years was not enough to suddenly justify the kind of bombings that had taken place. To be sure, she said that the fight against terror after the death of 5,000 (the estimate of the dead at the time) was justified but that she was speaking for a large segment of the population when she and her colleagues said they did not believe war or German participation was appropriate. Nonetheless, the eight who opposed the war would split their votes to address the two questions that had been put into one: four would vote “no,” reflecting opposition to the military plan, but four would vote “yes,” to show support for the coalition’s continued governance. The arguments were interesting in both what was said and what was not said. SPD speakers such as Peter Struck, Heide Weiczeik-Zeul, and Gert Weisskirchen stressed humanitarian problems and how Germany needed to participate so it could influence the political developments

202

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

and play a role in trying to support a long-term diplomatic solution. They emphasized that the last twenty-two years of Afghan history had been marked by war and deprivation, arguing that this war could initiate a process leading to a better future. It would be pointless for Germany to refuse to be involved and have nothing to say about what was done down the line. Opposition speakers from the CDU and FDP focused less on the issue of war than on attacking the coalition for not being united on the question in the first place, claiming this hurt Germany’s reputation and threatened to cause others not to trust Germany to be a partner in times of need. Eying the coming election in September 2002, much of their rhetoric was focused on Germany’s economic woes. On the war, they shared the same emphasis on humanitarian help and a need to establish peace, even if FDP leader Gerhardt mocked the Greens by suggesting they would prefer to set up round table discussions or read human rights resolutions to people who would only understand force. When the vote took place, four Greens—Annelie Buntenbach, Winfried Hermann, Christian Simmert, and Hans-Christian Ströbele— noted no, voting their conscience over the coalition. Four others, who shared their opposition to the war, symbolically voted the other half of the question and voted confidence in the coalition—Monika Knoche, Steffi Lemke, Irmingard Schewe-Gerigk, and Sylvia Voß. This allowed the Red-Green coalition the 334 votes they needed to assure an absolute majority, with the final measure passing 336–326.64 While the opposition proclaimed that this was the “beginning of the end” for the RedGreen coalition, Schröder had been able to show the world that he had again guided the traditionally pacifist German Left into supporting German participation in military action, demonstrating to the domestic public his leadership credentials. Still, it was anything but a united coalition Schröder was leading. Over seventy deputies voting yes added a written explanation of their vote to the record, mostly to qualify that they had doubts about the military engagement but did not want the government to fall. The opposition, except for the PDS, expressed support for the military plan, even as they voted against the Vertrauensfrage.65 In the weeks after the vote, both the SPD and Greens had party conferences, with the Greens especially worried that the party rank and file would revolt against the line taken by the parliamentary party. In each case, however, despite significant opposition to government policy, the party leaders received approval for their actions and the Greens supported continuing the coalition. Clearly, the German political system had more problems than any

AT THE TURN OF THE CENTURY

203

other NATO state in dealing with the war against Afghanistan and the aftermath of the terrorist attacks. The debate focused on issues of loyalty to the alliance and human rights versus the morality of war as a means for achieving political ends. The war against the Taliban in Afghanistan differed from the Balkan wars because while the Balkans witnessed ethnic conflict with fear of continued mass atrocities, the war on terrorism reflected issues of globalization, a clash of cultures, and fears of a spreading war in the Middle East. While in both Kosovo and Macedonia it was clear that the goal was to stop ethnic conflict and work to prevent atrocities, in Afghanistan there was fear that the actions represented a war of revenge or the use of military force to deal with a problem better addressed politically and through legal procedures. As the German weekly Die Woche pointed out in its analysis, terrorism from the third world is inevitably tied to questions of poverty, injustice, and cultural misunderstandings. Terrorism is linked to the questions of globalization; it is not the kind of “Old Europe vs. New Europe” ethnic conflict of the Balkans, but rather a result of global inequities and problems destined to get more complex over time. Success in war might end up only creating more hatred and division, making it a much more difficult issue to navigate.66 Not even the chancellor and foreign minister, steadfast in expressing German loyalty to the United States, suggested that military action was a solution or that the conflict was primarily one of punishing the bad guys. There was almost universal recognition that the issues involved reflected the changing nature of global politics. By the end of 2001 it appeared that the world was one in the war against terrorism, supporting President Bush’s actions and promising a cooperative, multilateral effort to fight Al-Qaida and other terrorist foes. By the end of 2002 the situation would be quite different. U.S.German relations would be the most strained they had been since the end of World War II, tension within NATO and between European and U.S. officials would be extreme, and the apparent unanimity of purpose of late 2001 would give way to major disagreements over military action against the country whose attack on Kuwait created the first dilemma for post–Cold War German policy: Iraq. The Controversy over Iraq

The accord over action in Afghanistan seemed to reduce the tension between Germany and the United States over the issue of U.S. unilater-

204

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

alism, but in mid-2002 the brewing controversy over Iraq led to the biggest chill in U.S.-German relations in the post–World War II era. In July, Schröder voiced concern about U.S. calls for a war against Iraq. The German position was similar to the one taken by French president Jacques Chirac.67 Although conservative papers in the United States like the Washington Times expressed annoyance over Berlin’s supposed inability to understand the danger posed by Saddam, complaining that the Germans wanted to simply “give him another chance,” the issue did not appear likely to create major problems in the transatlantic relationship.68 The United States argued that Iraq was in violation of the terms of the 1991 peace agreement and various UN Security Council resolutions, and given Saddam Hussein’s refusal for over a decade to come clean on his weapons programs, the only solution to the problem in the Gulf was one of “regime change.” For Europeans, who suspected that the United States was more interested in reshaping the balance of power in the Middle East to promote U.S. interests and assure the availability of oil, the argument seemed weak. The idea of “regime change” through application of external force is contrary to the basics of international law, which puts sovereignty as the primary principle. Given that Iraq was watched, had most of its air space off limits to its own aircraft due to militarily enforced “no-fly zones,” and was not in a position to pose a serious threat to its neighbors, Europeans were cool to the U.S. plans. There did not seem to be a connection between Iraq and the terrorist threat they had agreed to cooperate against, and slowly a rift developed between the continental Europeans (with the exception of Britain) and the United States. In mid-2002 it did not seem that this would cause a major crisis in U.S.-German relations. However, German electoral politics intervened. Lagging in the polls to the CDU/CSU lead by Edmund Stoiber, Schröder, whose chances suffered from Germany’s poor economic performance, shifted his emphasis to keeping Germany out of any war involving Iraq. By mid-August, Schröder was publicly arguing that a war with Iraq would be counterproductive, since Al-Qaida was not yet defeated and there was still considerable work to do in Kosovo and Afghanistan. Stoiber dismissed Schröder’s argument as serving no purpose, given that the question of what to do with Iraq was still being discussed. Stoiber also complained that Schröder’s slogan, “the German Way,” was being misunderstood by observers outside Germany who thought it reflected a new German nationalism.69 By late August it became clear that the Iraq issue was helping

AT THE TURN OF THE CENTURY

205

Schröder in the polls, and in their August 25 debate, Stoiber accused the chancellor of using Iraq as an election ploy. Schröder countered by noting that it would be irresponsible of him not to express his opinion to voters on such an important issue.70 Schröder called the potential war with Iraq “an adventure” and said that Germans were asking questions concerning whether a preventative war was legal in international law, if a war would cause terrorism rather than prevent it, and whether Iraq really posed a threat.71 The issue became salient in the United States when Schröder granted an interview to the New York Times in early September. He argued that a war with Iraq would risk all that had been gained in the war on terrorism in the last year and stated that he would oppose such an effort, refusing German involvement even if approved by the United Nations Security Council. He dismissed the idea that such criticism could hurt the U.S.-German relationship, pointing out that he had put his job on the line over war in Afghanistan and that a strong relationship can handle disagreements.72 Schröder’s argument, driven in part by the need to have an issue that would improve his election prospects, was nonetheless reflective of a general discontent in Germany about U.S. plans. After all, unpopular positions do not help win elections, popular positions do. In the weekly magazine Die Zeit, former chancellor Helmut Schmidt argued that the United States was planning to use power without consideration of the interests and views of other states, a dangerous unilateralism. He noted that Bush’s foreign policy advisers called forth the ideas of British philosopher Thomas Hobbes, who argued that life is a war of all against all, and that only power could assure order. Schmidt contended that the current thinking in the United States was nationalist, egocentric, and imperialistic, and he recalled the warning of British conservative thinker Edmund Burke against the “hubris of superpower.” Schmidt concluded that it appeared that the United States would act as a unilateral power perhaps for decades, but the Europeans should not let themselves simply become instruments of U.S. policy.73 Other voices chimed in on the topic. Egon Bahr argued that the problem was that the world had gotten so used to Germany always saying “yes” that it was a shock to hear “no.” But, he noted, Germans should get used to having to show more courage in stating positions on important issues.74 Richard Herzinger argued that Germany was acting in accord with the ideals of the West more than the United States was, and that current U.S. policies were violating the ideals of liberalization and democratization. By acting as a “megapower” and promoting “pre-

206

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

ventative wars,” the United States was challenging the values it had itself promoted. 75 Clearly, Schröder was echoing strong sentiments from many in the German foreign policy establishment. That undercurrent explains why Stoiber did not raise a spirited defense of U.S. policy—he seemed to agree that a war would be a bad idea and that Germany did not have the capacity to get involved. Stoiber instead tried to avoid the issue as irrelevant to the election at hand. Americans may have been irked at how the issue was raised in an election campaign, but the reality was that Germans were viewing the impending showdown with Iraq in a much different light. As the election neared, the Washington Post spoke for the U.S. establishment by lambasting Schröder’s election rhetoric. In an editorial labeled “Schröder Ducks,” the Post accused him of exploiting an international crisis to keep left-wing votes in his camp, something that would hurt Germany, as it would have to sit on the sidelines as other countries would enjoy any advantages that would come from a successful policy.76 To make matters worse, days before the election Justice Minister Herta Däubler-Gmelin was quoted comparing Bush’s use of a potential Iraq war with Hitler’s use of foreign policy to distract people from economic problems. This infuriated President Bush, especially when Chancellor Schröder’s apology did not sound convincing enough for the president and Däubler-Gmelin was not immediately fired. Even though she would be dropped from the cabinet in the postelection shuffle, the damage had been done. Election ploy or not, the Iraq issue helped Schröder overcome a deficit in the polls that was near 10 percent a month before the election. The chancellor won re-election on September 22, 2002, in the closest contest in postwar German history. The SPD and Stoiber’s CDU/CSU each had 38.5 percent of the vote, with the Social Democrats beating the Union by only 8,000 votes. However, the Green Party did remarkably well and the FDP surprisingly poorly, to give Schröder a small but workable nine-seat majority. Schröder benefited from his stance on the Iraq war, especially in the East where the Christian Democrats managed only around 25 percent, and the PDS failed to reach either the 5 percent mark or the three direct mandate requirement to get Bundestag representation equivalent to their vote total. Many potential PDS voters may have shifted to Schröder because of his stance on Iraq; if the PDS had managed to get a full contingent into parliament it is unlikely either coalition could have mustered a majority. The U.S. reaction to Schröder’s victory was unprecedented. President Bush did not offer a

AT THE TURN OF THE CENTURY

207

call of congratulations, and U.S. diplomats were told to be cool toward their German counterparts and give them the “cold shoulder.”77 This reaction was remarkably harsh. Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld complained that Schröder had “poisoned” U.S.-German relationships. Rumsfeld refused to meet one on one with German defense minister Peter Struck at the next week’s Warsaw meeting of NATO defense ministers.78 His snub of Struck was reportedly intended to make an example of Germany in order to tell other states they had better not cross the Bush administration in such a manner.79 The rest of the world reacted differently. Tony Blair praised Schröder’s leadership, welcoming him to London directly after the election. Blair stood closest to the United States on the Iraq issue but did not let that stop him from enthusiastically supporting Schröder. 80 Vladimir Putin, calling Germany Russia’s most important ally, also praised and congratulated the chancellor.81 For his part, Schröder expressed a desire to mend fences with the United States, but refused to budge from his position. Defense Minister Struck announced that, as Washington had wished, Germany and the Netherlands would take over leadership of Operation Enduring Freedom in Afghanistan, pointing out that Germany now had 10,000 troops serving peacekeeping and NATO missions worldwide.82 And though a meeting between Fischer and U.S. secretary of state Colin Powell produced amicable words of long-term U.S.-German friendship, and though President Bush sent a warm letter of congratulations to German president Johannes Rau on the twelfth anniversary of German unification on October 3, 2002, few doubted that it would take some time before U.S.-German relations were as warm as they had been in the past.83 By mid-November 2002 things seemed to have improved. Defense Minister Struck finally got his meeting with Donald Rumsfeld, both emerging with smiles and proclamations of friendship, with Rumsfeld noting that the relationship was not poisoned.84 Before that, Schröder and Bush spoke with each other for the first time since the German election, with Bush wanting to get back to business as usual.85 While journalists and pundits viewed this primarily as bad blood between two stubborn leaders, analysts worried that the disagreement reflected deep philosophical differences growing between Europe and the United States, suggesting rocky times ahead for the Atlantic alliance. Ivo Daalder of the Brookings Institution noted that the Bush administration had already poisoned relations with its stance on such issues as the Kyoto accords and International Criminal Court. Rather

208

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

than being angry at Schröder, the United States should ask why Schröder’s tactics worked so well in a state traditionally loyal to the Atlantic alliance.86 Historian Heinrich August Winkler argued that there had been within the European Union “total opposition” to the U.S. doctrine of preventative war, and noted that neoconservatives like pundit Robert Kagan had been dismissing Europe as having irrelevant dreams of a Kantian order in a Hobbesian world.87 The United States wants a NATO rapid reaction force, and it needs allies for a potential war with Iraq, but the Europeans are more concerned about continuing problems in Afghanistan, do not see Iraq as a direct danger, and are uncomfortable with the doctrine of preventative war. Lothar Rühl labels this a “transatlantic malaise,” which could become a crisis.88 The malaise indeed became a crisis in the run up to the Iraq war. The war, which began March 20, 2003, found Germany aligned with France and Russia firmly against U.S. actions, with German-U.S. relations reaching the lowest point in the post–World War II era. As Germany, France, and Russia worked to block UN approval for use of force, the United States responded harshly, with Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld listing Germany alongside Libya as a category of countries refusing to cooperate with the United States.89 Daniel Coats, U.S. Ambassador to Germany, warned that Germans should be worried by deteriorating relations with the United States and lingering anger over Germany’s lack of support. 90 Schröder and French President Jacques Chirac reacted harshly to what they perceived as U.S. efforts to divide Europe, when Rumsfeld labeled France and Germany as “old Europe” and courted East European states to support use of force against Iraq.91 When the war broke out, 500,000 protested in Berlin. Unlike during the 1991 Gulf War, German protesters were not alone. Massive protests spread across Europe, including Rome, London, and Madrid, countries whose governments were supporting the war. Whereas in 1991 Germans had protested the use of war as a means to achieve political ends—something most of Europe did not, in principle, oppose—the protests of 2003 opposed what was perceived as U.S. imperialism. Unlike in 1991, the German government was on the side of the protesters, with Schröder and Chirac basking in the praise of Europeans across the political spectrum who distrusted U.S. power. As Der Spiegel noted in its cover story “Gulliver Unchained” just before fighting began, “The United States is militarily, economically and culturally the undisputed number one in the world. But the superpower is beginning to suffer the

AT THE TURN OF THE CENTURY

209

illness of all empires in history: over-confidence and over-commitment. Will the Iraq war possibly lead to a downfall?”92 The U.S. reacted by accusing the Germans, French, and Russians of wanting to hide their collusion with Iraq and engaging in appeasement against a dictator. There were indeed concerns in all three countries that embarrassing details of past cooperation between business interests in those countries and Iraq could come out after the war, though for Germany mostly from the Kohl era.93 The focus of the protests, however, was on the instability in the Arab world that an invasion of Iraq could cause, including an increase in terrorism and the risk of a global recession. To the United States, the purpose of the war was to liberate Iraqis from a ruthless dictator and remove a growing threat through pre-emptive action. To most Europeans, the war was an act of aggression by a superpower seeking to shape the emerging form of the post–Cold War international system. Within Germany, Schröder’s course was popular. Schröder had the backing of his party when he stood down Hans-Ulrich Klose, who argued that German diplomacy had failed and that it was important to maintain the close Atlanticist ties of the past decades.94 After the war started, Schröder’s Social Democrats, stung in early 2003 by low polling numbers and loses in state elections due to the deterioration of German economic conditions, rebounded in the polls. Schröder’s popularity, which had plummeted alongside German economic data in late 2002, increased as most Germans saw Schröder speaking for the country on the issue of the Iraq war.95 CDU leader Angela Merkel, on the other hand, found herself under attack from former Chancellor candidate Edmund Stoiber (CSU) for her staunch pro–United States attitude, and her party was split in its reaction to the war. In a mirror image of the reaction to the Gulf War, the Social Democrats were united, and the Christian Democrats were in disarray, unable to respond to a crisis where German norms contradicted the embedded Atlanticism.96 What this means for the long run is uncertain, and depends upon the post-war diplomacy. As of early April 2003 it appears that— unlike forty years earlier when Germans rejected De Gaulle’s attempt to create a “Europe between the superpowers” that would form an alternative to perceived U.S. hegemony—Schröder and Chirac had put the Germans and the French on a neo-Gaullist path, confronting U.S. interests. U.S. unilateralism had, in the intensely emotional issue of war and peace, pushed Germans to shift their priorities from Atlanticism toward developing a stronger European voice, with closer relations with Russia. Germany did not move in this direction as a rejection of multi-

210

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

lateralism. Rather, they responded to what they perceived as U.S. attempts to force the UN to legitimize U.S. policy preferences and to play a subservient role in a U.S.-led system. That, they decided, was not multilateralism, but a kind of neo-imperialism that could be dangerous, hindering the development of the kind of international system Germans want, one based on international law and the development of cooperative institutions. The challenge facing German-U.S. relations in the coming years is to find a way to bridge the gap between two very different conceptions of how world politics operates. German Policy at the Crossroads

It is tempting to look at German foreign policy in the Schröder era and conclude that Germany is becoming more like a normal state, willing to use its power to achieve goals, putting aside the cooperative postsovereign style of the Cold War. Germany has now been involved in military operations outside NATO, leading peacekeeping operations in Macedonia and Afghanistan, and has confronted the United States on issues such as the Kyoto accords and policy toward Iraq. Based on that, it is easy to predict that Germany will become more “normal” and defend its national interest, especially given that one hears the term “national interest” from Chancellor Schröder more often than from past German leaders. The problem with such an interpretation is that a close analysis of the policy debates and the rationales for the decisions made shows a much different story. Germany only chose military involvement after gut-wrenching debate, almost against its will, a decision based on realities in the international system that touched on deeply held foreign policy norms such as opposition to human rights atrocities and the need to be part of the Western alliance. Despite the problems between the United States and Germany and the new challenges of fighting terrorism, there is no change in the German emphasis on multilateralism, institution-building, and a rejection of myopic national interest. During the Cold War there was no need to choose between antimilitarism, loyalty to the alliance, and support of human rights. Loyalty to the alliance only meant being prepared to defend NATO from a Soviet attack, an attack that Ostpolitik actively worked to make less likely. Human rights atrocities were real, but they were not seen as anything that could be countered with military might, but rather with United Nations action and efforts to mitigate poverty in the third world. The biggest change in

AT THE TURN OF THE CENTURY

211

German policy has been less in the way Germans define their policy norms and understandings and more in the manner the changes in the international system have made their old policy form untenable. Even as Theo Sommer of Die Zeit claims that Germany has become a “different Republic,” with foreign policy change outpacing continuity, he notes that the goal remains a policy of peace (Friedenspolitik) even though that may involve military action in defense of human rights or against imminent threats. Any use of the military must be for principle rather than power, only to be entered into with others in a legally endorsed multilateral coalition. He argues as well that Germany must avoid “prestige politics,” such as jockeying for a Security Council seat. However, he also recognizes that there is a potential conflict of interests between the United States and Germany, if U.S. unilateralism contradicts Germany’s multilateral principles.97 I argue that Germany has developed a stable post-sovereign foreign policy identity, built on a set of shared norms and understandings about foreign policy that were chosen for tactical reasons a half century ago but have since been internalized due to both their success at achieving foreign policy goals and their reflection of the lessons of history. If that is accurate, what happens when pursuing the foreign policy suggested by German principles makes it difficult to have a stable partnership with the United States? Even during the Cold War these dilemmas existed. But the specter of possible Soviet aggression and Germany’s status as a divided semisovereign state embedded in NATO gave Germans little choice but to follow the American lead. A neutralist Sonderweg outside NATO was rejected by the end of the 1950s, and in the early 1960s the other possible alternative, embracing Gaullism, lost out to Atlanticism. Leaders could balance Ostpolitik with transatlantic loyalty to maintain a stable foreign policy consensus. The idea of Germans being called on to engage in action to support U.S. policy worldwide was virtually unthinkable. In the post–Cold War era, a United States desiring to lead a new global alliance in an ambitious effort to shape the international system meets with German opposition because the U.S. vision of what that system should be runs counter to German ideals and foreign policy principles. Rather than a system built on multilateral institutions creating international law and trying to solve problems using means other than military power, the U.S. approach is power savvy, a willingness to employ power and military action where it deems necessary. Worse still from the German perspective, the United States seems unwilling to make international law a priority, unless it can be used as a tool to justi-

212

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

fy U.S. policy goals. Where the Germans see a post–Cold War system based on multilateral cooperation and the development of rule of law, the Americans see one where power is needed to maintain order. At the start of the twenty-first century the Germans have become Wilsonian, and the Americans practitioners of Bismarckian realpolitik. Although it is tempting to conclude that U.S. power is such that Germany will have no choice but to either conform or be relegated to a minor role in the international system, there are reasons to believe that Germany’s approach may end up dominant. Realpolitik may work against Saddam or the Taliban, but it is not an approach that deals with the various problems caused by globalization and increasing interdependence. For countries like Russia and China, still more traditional in their approach to foreign policy, a power-politics route will likely do little to solve their problems. If the European Union can act effectively, and if the United States discovers that foreign policy success is elusive using the means the Bush administration has chosen, German policy may ultimately end up as a model for how to deal with the problems posed in a world defined by globalization, turbulence, and interdependence. Notes

1. Wallander, Mortal Friends, Best Enemies, p. 71. 2. Alexander Rahr, “Moskau sollte langfristig Platz in der NATO finden,” Die Welt, April 9, 2001. 3. See Stent, “The New Ostpolitik of the SPD–Green Government,” pp. 2–3. 4. Jens Hartmann, “Russland und Deutschland suchen Lösungen für die Schuldenfrage,” Die Welt, April 10, 2001; Deutscher Bundestag–14. Wahlperiode, Drucksache 14/5365, February 16, 2001. 5. Wallander, Mortal Friends, Best Enemies, p. 47. 6. Remarks of Chancellor Gerhard Schröder on the tenth anniversary of the German-Russian treaty, German federal government documentation. 7. Michael Thumann, “Russland spricht Deutsch,” Die Zeit 1, January 4, 2001; “Politik in Familienkreis,” Süddeutsche Zeitung, January 5, 2001. 8. “Schröder fordert für Russland freie Medien,” Die Welt, April 9, 2001; “Deutsch-russische Beziehungen: Ein langer ruhiger Fluss,” Der Tagesspiegel, April 11, 2001. 9. “Bundestag Präsident Wolfgang Thierse on the 60th Anniversary of the Germany Attack on the USSR,” Deutscher Bundestag Pressevermittlung, June 21, 2001. 10. “Raum für Träume,” Der Tagesspiegel, January 2, 2001; “Putin ordnet

AT THE TURN OF THE CENTURY

213

Teilabzug aus Tschetschenien an,” Der Tagesspiegel, January 19, 2001; “Russland und der Europarat: Weggehört,” Der Tagesspiegel, January 27, 2001; Clemens Wergin, “NMD-Auseinandersetzung: Ein Schrim mit Charme,” Der Tagesspiegel, February 21, 2001. 11. “USA bestehen auf Raketenabwehr,” Der Tagesspiegel, February 4, 2001; Hans-Dietrich Genscher, “Balkan Krise: Perspektive Europäische Union,” Der Tagesspiegel, March 22, 2001. 12. “Kreml will Atomraketen weiter abbauen,” Der Tagesspiegel, February 5, 2001. 13. Heinz Timmermann, “Russlands Strategie für die Europäische Union,” Bericht des Bundesinstitut für ostwissenschaftliche, April 13, 2000; Michael Thumann, “Schau westwörts Putin,” Die Zeit 2, January 11, 2001. 14. Christoph von Marschall, “Zivilgesellschaft in Kinderschulen,” Der Tagesspiegel, April 9, 2001; Hans-Dietrich Genscher, “Balkan Krise: Perspektive Europäische Union,” Der Tagesspiegel, March 22, 2001; Doris Heimann, “Das eingebildete Supermacht,” Der Tagesspiegel, January 6, 2001. 15. Wallender, Mortal Friends, Best Enemies, pp. 47, 118. 16. “Bundestag stimmt der Nato-erweiterung zu,” Schweriner Volkszeitung, March 27, 1998. 17. Ralf Beste, Dirk Koch, Roman Leick, Gabor Steingard, Alexander Szandar, “Mehr Europa,” Der Spiegel, March 31, 2003. 18. Haftendorn, “Der gütige Hegemon und die unsichere Mittelmacht,” p. 11. 19. Mayer, “Konfliktlinien in der Atlantischen Allianz,” pp. 22–29. 20. Malte Lehming, “Gleiche Praxis, neuer Sound,” Der Tagesspiegel, January 24, 2001. 21. Christoph Von Marschall, “Militärische Verteidigung: Bündnisfrage,” Der Tagesspiegel, February 3, 2001; “Global erwärmen, national handeln,” Der Tagesspiegel, June 13, 2001; and “Abrüstung auf Amerikanisch,” Der Tagesspiegel, July 23, 2001. 22. Josef Joffe, “Weltpolitik ohne Partner,” Die Zeit 9, March 1, 2001. 23. Hans Monath, “USA warnen Deutsche vor Engagement in Libyen,” Der Tagesspiegel, May 9, 2001; Robert von Rimscha, “Wenn das Vertrauen schwindet,” Der Tagesspiegel, May 30, 2001; and Malte Lehming, “Ein etwas anderer Präsident,” Der Tagesspiegel, June 11, 2001. 24. Mueller, “Germany Hopes It Will Go Away,” p. 32. 25. “Wir müssen auch Amerikas Widerpart sein,” interview with Karl Lames, Die Welt, February 11, 2001; Volker Rühe, Leitsätze für eine deutsche und europäische Außen- und Sicherheitspolitik, CDU Vorstand, Mainz, January 15, 2001. 26. Josef Joffe, “Raketen und Reflexe,” Die Zeit 6, February 8, 2001; Robert von Rimscha, “Absurd aber erfolgreich,” Der Tagesspiegel, March 2, 2001. 27. Constanze Stetzenmüller, “Genosse der Geschosse?” Die Zeit 11, March 15, 2001; Malte Lehming and Robert von Rimscha, “Rühe lobt Schröders Kurs bei Raketenabwehr,” Der Tagesspiegel, March 2, 2001. 28. Malte Lehming, “Berlin–Texas: Die Distanz wächst,” Der

214

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

Tagesspiegel, March 31, 2001. 29. “Freund oder Feind,” Der Spiegel, September 30, 2002, pp. 112–119. 30. John Chalmers, “EU Says Members May Negotiate with U.S. on Court,” Washington Post, October 1, 2002, p. A17. 31. Mueller, “Germany Hopes It Will Go Away,” pp. 31–34. 32. Denison, “German Foreign Policy and Transatlantic Relations Since Unification,” p. 164. 33. Goebel, “German Security Policy,” pp. 1–2. 34. Positionspaper: Die Zukunft der Bundeswehr, CDU Dokumentation, Beschluss des Bundesfachausschusses Außen- und Sicherheitspolitik, March 21, 2000. 35. “NATO-Partner besorgt über deutsche Defizite,” Welt am Sonntag, June 3, 2001. 36. Ralf Beste, Dirk Koch, Romain Leick, Gabor Steingard, and Alexander Szandar, “Mehr Europa,” Der Spiegel, No. 14, March 31, 2003. 37. Robert Birnbaum, “Nicht nur Spiegel der Gesellschaft: Für Rechtsextremen ist die Armee besonders attraktiv,” Der Tagesspiegel, March 14, 2001. 38. “Bundeswehr braucht 220 Milliarden Mark,” Süddeutsche Zeitung, April 2, 2001. 39. Robert Birnbaum, “Nur für den Fall,” Der Tagesspiegel, September 14, 2001. 40. For the full statement approved by the Bundestag, see “Das Parlament stellt sich hinter die Regierung,” Der Tagesspiegel, September 20, 2001. 41. “Mehrheit der Deutschen befürwortet Vergeltungschlag,” Der Tagesspiegel, Septmber 15, 2001. 42. Antje Vollmer, “Ein Wertebündnis, kein Rachebündis,” Der Tagesspiegel, September 16, 2001. 43. Heribert Prantl, “Platz vier auf der Bedrohungsskala,” Süddeutsche Zeitung, September 20, 2001. 44. Andrea Nüsse, “Völkerverständigung,” Der Tagesspiegel, October 4, 2001. 45. Peter Siebenmorgen, “Vor dem Ernstfall,” Der Tagesspiegel, September 30, 2001. 46. Stephan-Andreas Casdorff, “Partei und Koalition in Gefahr,” Der Tagesspiegel, September 26, 2001. 47. Robert von Rimscha and Markus Feldenkirchen, “Grüne akzeptieren Militärschlag gegen Terror,” Der Tagesspiegel, October 7, 2001. 48. Robert von Rimscha, “Niemand muss Angst haben,” Der Tagesspiegel, October 8, 2001. 49. “Akt der Verteidigung,” Der Tagesspiegel, October 9, 2001. 50. “Deutscher Ex-General kritisiert US-Stratege,” Die Welt, October 31, 2001. 51. “Berlin und Washington um die Besteitigung eines ‘Mißverstädnis’ bemüht,” Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, November 8, 2001, p. 1. 52. “Die Solidarität Schrumpft,” Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, November 8, 2001, p. 1. See also “Die Vertrauensfrage,” Frankfurter

AT THE TURN OF THE CENTURY

215

Allgemeine Zeitung, November 10, 2001, p. 1; “Schmeierenkomödie,” Frankfurt Allgemeine Zeitung, November 12, 2001, p. 1. 53. “Kriegspfad in die Sackgasse: Das Tagblatt sammelte Reaktionen,” Swäbisches Tagblatt, November 8, 2001, p. 19. 54. Michael Naumann, “Ein Krieg wider Willen,” Die Zeit, November 8, 2001, p. 1. 55. Wilhelm Hölkemeier und die Deutsche Presse Agentur, “Schröders Mehrheit wackelt wieder,” Schwäbisches Tagblatt, November 8, 2001, p. 1. 56. “Rot-grüne Mehrheit wackelt,” Neue Presse, November 9, 2001, p. 1. 57. “Grüne erwägen Bruch der Berliner Koalition,” Hannoversche Allgemeine, November 9, 2001, p. 1; “Struck: Verfehlen der eigenen Mehrheit keine Katastrophe,” Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, November 10, 2001, p. 1. 58. “Dem Kanzler droht der Verlust der eigenen Mehrheit,” Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, November 12, 2001. 59. “Kanzler erhöht den Druck,” Westfalen-Blatt, November 14, 2001, p. 1. 60. George Bauer, Annette Beutler, Nicola Brüning, Henning Krumrey, Olaf Opitz, and Burkhard von Pappenheim, “Selbstmord auf Raten,” Focus, November 19, 2001, pp. 18–28. 61. Karl Feldmeyer, “Die Union in der Zwickmühle,” Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, November 14, 2001, p. 2. See also Günter Bannas, “Mit der Milde des Kanzlers ist es vorbei,” Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, November 14, 2001, p. 3. 62. Werner A. Perger, “Schröders große Schlacht,” Die Zeit, November 15, 2001, p. 1. 63. “Aufruf gegen den Krieg,” Stern, November 15, 2001, pp. 54–70. 64. Although Schröder needed an absolute majority to survive the Vertrauensfrage, a plurality would have passed the resolution to make troops available for the war. 65. “Es geht weiter: Rot-Grun gibt Schröder das Vertrauen,” Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, November 17, 2001, p. 1. 66. Sabine Rosenbladt, “Unser Krieg: Deutsche Soldaten nach Afghanistan, auf das erste Schlachtfeld der Glboalisierung,” Die Woche, November 9, 2001, p. 1. 67. “Deutsch-Französisches Gipfel,” Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, July 30, 2002. 68. “Germany, Reality, and Saddam,” Washington Times, July 27, 2002. 69. Nico Fried, “Schröder und Stoiber streiten über Irak Politik,” Süddeutsche Zeitung, August 14, 2002. 70. “The German Way to Express Europe’s Growing Unease,” Lancet, September 7, 2002, p. 734. 71. Matthias Nass, “Krieg gegen Saddam? Nicht ohne bessere Gründe,” Die Zeit 33, August 15, 2002. 72. Steven Erlanger, “German Leader’s Warning: War Plan Is a Huge Mistake,” New York Times, September 5, 2002. 73. Helmut Schmidt, “Europa braucht keinen Vormund,” Die Zeit 32, August 8, 2002.

216

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

74. “Freund oder Feind,” Der Spiegel, September 30, 2002, pp. 112–119. 75. Richard Herzinger, “Die besseren Amerikaner sind wir,” Die Zeit 41, October 10, 2002. 76. “Mr. Schroeder Ducks,” Washington Post, September 17, 2002, p. A20. 77. “Auf dem Sonderweg,” Tageszeitung, September 29, 2002. 78. “U.S. Officials Cold Shoulder Schröder,” Washington Post, September 24, 2002, p. A14. 79. H. Wetzel, Y. Esterhazy, C. Tuft, C. Thiele, and T. Pache, “DeutschAmerikanische Beziehungen: Beschädigte Freundschaft,” Financial Times Deutschland, September 25, 2002. 80. “Brückebauer Blair,” Süddeutsche Zeitung, September 24, 2002. 81. Daniel Brössler, “Optimale Wahl,” Süddeutsche Zeitung, September 24, 2002. 82. “Deutschland bietet Führungsrolle an,” Süddeutsche Zeitung, September 24, 2002. 83. Mark Landler, “Germans Point to Letter from Bush as Indication That Rift is Healing,” International Herald Tribune, October 5, 2002. 84. “Das Eis ist Gebrochen,” Der Tagesspiegel, November 10, 2002. 85. “Entspannungsübung,” Der Taggesspiegel, November 10, 2002. 86. “Freund oder Feind,” Der Spiegel, September 30, 2002, pp. 112–119. 87. Heinrich August Winkler, “NATO am Scheideweg,” Der Spiegel, September 30, 2002, pp. 126–127. 88. Lothar Rühl, “Das Kriegsproblem der Nato am Gulf,” Neue Zürcher Zeitung, October 9, 2002. 89. “Rumsfeld stellt Deutschland mit Libyen auf eine Stufe,” Handelsblatt, February 13, 2003. 90. Gerold Büchner, “Die Deutschen sollten sich Sorgen machen,” Berliner Zeitung, February 6, 2003. 91. Andreas Middel, “Unmut in der EU über den Aufruf der Acht,” Die Welt, February 13, 2003; and Jachim Fritz Vannahme and Petra Pinzler, “Die gefallenen Stern,” Die Zeit, 12, February 13, 2003. 92. “Der entfesselte Gulliver,” Der Spiegel, 12, March 17, 2003. 93. Uwe Klußman, Georg Mascolo, Walter Mayr, “Zittern vor dem Sieg,” Der Spiegel, 14, March 31, 2003. 94. “Du solltest dich schämen,” Der Spiegel, 8, February 17, 2003. 95. Matthias Geyer, “Der gute König,” Der Spiegel, 14, March 31, 2003. 96. Ralf Neukirch, and Christoph Schult, “Die einsame Vorsitzende,” Der Spiegel, 14, March 31, 2003. 97. Theo Sommer, “Deutsche Außenpolitik: Unterwegs,” Die Zeit, March 8, 2001.

Eight Foreign Policy in an Era of Globalization: The German Model

ernment section) of the old West German capital Bonn, Berlin’s official buildings are impressive and grand. The Chancellory, in Bonn hidden behind shrubs and trees, stands out as a modern architectural triumph in Berlin, while the Bundestag meets nearby in the old Reichstag building. Built in the daunting style of nineteenth-century imperial Germany, the building enjoys a modern glass dome where visitors can climb a spiral walkway along the edge of the dome toward the top, and either look out for miles on the city, or down the middle to catch a glimpse of the meeting hall of the Bundestag. The mix of tradition with openness and modern design reflects the dynamism of an ever-changing Berlin at the start of the century. A visitor to the city, reflecting on the differences between Bonn and Berlin, might be tempted to wonder whether or not the new Germany will throw aside the modest and unassuming policies of the Bonn Republic and embark on a bolder, more self-interested course in the coming years. The question of whether German foreign policy is going to be brash and assertive or continue as cooperative and modest is too simplistic. It is unrealistic to expect any state never to be assertive, and being assertive does not necessarily mean rejecting values of cooperation and multilateralism. I conclude this book with two arguments; both are grounded in the analysis of the first seven chapters, but the second is more speculative. The first is that German foreign policy rests on stable norms and principles, reflecting a post-sovereign identity. Given this, it is possible to make predictions about likely policy directions for Germany in the coming years, recognizing as always that human behavCOMPARED TO THE MODEST STYLE OF THE REGIERUNGSVIERTEL (GOV-

217

218

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

ior is difficult to predict. Nonetheless, a foreign policy identity is relatively stable and suggests that some policies are more likely than others. Second, I argue that Germany’s post-sovereign foreign policy identity is a potential model for effective foreign policy in an era of globalization. This argument is supported by the success Germany has had dealing with the tumult of the last two decades, effectively overcoming Cold War division and adapting to a changed international environment with relative ease. Periods of systemic change are often violent and difficult, especially as decisionmakers are unable to recognize that old ways of doing things have to be replaced. A post-sovereign identity reflects a new way of thinking about foreign policy, one that better fits conditions in a world defined by globalization and complex interdependence. German Foreign Policy in the Twenty-First Century

Since unification, Germans have had to balance often contradictory norms and deal with complex challenges to the relatively comfortable policy pattern of the Cold War. During the Cold War, and through the missile modernization debate of the 1980s, as well as the continuation of Ostpolitik while superpower relations chilled, Germany’s balance was unquestioned integration into the West alongside efforts to try to improve ties to the East. There was never a question about which world was home; Germans defined the West as a community of values, with communist values in the East antithetical to the principles of democracy and individual freedom. Germany was never called on to participate in military action; NATO was a defensive alliance, and virtually no one questioned that, due to history, Germany had renounced any use of force except for defense of homeland or of other NATO allies. Germany’s initial post–World War II rejection of militarism was solidified by the fact that war between the superpowers would have assuredly destroyed much of Germany; therefore, efforts to make war less likely were embraced. This lead to a number of clashes between supporters of total Western integration on the one hand and antimilitarism on the other: the rearmament debate, the stationing of nuclear missiles in Germany in the late 1950s, Vietnam, and, of course, the missile modernization crisis. Each time, the argument that preparation for defense made war unlikely, often combined with efforts to try to minimize the probability of war (such as continuing Ostpolitik during the missile modernization controversy), allowed German governments to navigate the difficulties.

FOREIGN POLICY IN AN ERA OF GLOBALIZATION

219

The closest this double consensus of Westpolitik and Ostpolitik came to collapse was in the early 1980s, when Helmut Schmidt was forced from office as the FDP bolted from the social-liberal coalition. A fundamental reason for that shift was that Schmidt no longer controlled his own party, and the rank and file of the SPD, as well as many elites, opposed his views on missile modernization. This opposition foreshadowed the tension that after unification would emerge in German policy, as it balanced its antimilitarism norms against its loyalty to the alliance. One way this double consensus could be maintained without threatening either the alliance or Germany’s ability to assure both allies and adversaries of its goodwill was through multilateralism and cooperative institution-building. Germans learned that exercising soft power within institutions was an effective way to work toward national interest without causing distrust, as common interests would be the basis for cooperative ventures. Societal norms against both nationalism and militarism gave multilateralism a status as a German foreign policy norm, one that by the 1980s was a fundamental aspect of the German foreign policy culture. Germany had developed a post-sovereign foreign policy identity. German Foreign Policy Identity

Historians have tried to deal with the concept of identity in a manner of ways. But identity is elusive, since all nations have a variety of cultural attributes and possible paths. As Charles Maier argues: “Any meaningful concept of a national identity must posit a subsisting component which requires description in terms of non-historical variables. We need to know history, therefore, to understand identity; but history will not suffice. If it did, countries would move in worn grooves, and trajectories of development would be predictable. German history, above all, teaches that national behavior has scope for unexpected veerings and craziness, atrocious (and corrective) possibilities beyond what historical knowledge can prepare us for.”1 Germany’s national identity may be shaped by history, but it is more than the sum of its history. It reflects society and politics, encompassing a variety of possible futures. The main problem with “identity” as an analytic concept is that it is easy to use it as a shorthand to categorize behavior over time. Some historians, for instance, argue that a strong, unified German state in the heart of Europe tends toward expansion and conflict. This has occurred despite the fact that Germans have been among the most educated peo-

220

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

ple in Europe, and until the Third Reich, relatively tolerant vis-à-vis diverse ethnic groups. This interpretation can be doubted, however. David Calleo points out that Germany in pre-Napoleonic times was particularist and cosmopolitan, suggesting that German unification and militarism was as much a reaction to European power politics as it was the result of something internal to German development. 2 Gordon Craig, in a masterful study of Germany from the wars of unification to the end of World War II, finds the subject a bit more complex. The specifics of German culture and social life fed into a nationalist ideology that arose both out of an internal dynamic and as a reaction to and as a part of the European culture at the time. Craig, however, rejects the notion that Hitler was the logical result of German history; for Craig, Hitler was a uniquely evil individual, whose skills mixed with the hard economic times to seduce Germans into submission.3 Indeed, it is very difficult to separate German history from the history of Europe. For even if Fritz Fischer is correct in placing most of the blame for even World War I on the unrealistic aspirations of German nationalists, they were part of a continental culture characterized by competition between states, a belief in the naturalness of conflict and the selfishness of human nature.4 Hans Kohn takes the idea beyond historical notions of identity to look more precisely at the “mind” of Germans—German thought and culture creates particular ways of conceiving reality, and understanding these can help us understand German history. Kohn’s work, which ranges from a history of ideas in German academia to a type of social psychology, demonstrates both the potential use and abuse of a concept of identity based on shared understandings about politics and life. Kohn is able to make interesting statements about German culture, but the broad scope of his analysis makes his conclusions speculative.5 At best, broad notions of historical identity are useful as metaphors or rhetorical devices. The range of issues and possibilities hidden by identity brushed in such broad strokes is immense. At worst, they can be used to hide problematic issues, create an illusion of exactitude, or justify an analyst’s personal prejudices. Still, identity is a concept that will not go away. Not only do states have identities in any analysis, there are also various forms of social and corporate identities acting within states, ranging from bureaucracies and corporations to individual leaders and social movements. Social scientists and historians consistently refer to things such as states and organizations in terms of an understood and existing identity, but they rarely unpack what that

FOREIGN POLICY IN AN ERA OF GLOBALIZATION

221

notion means and how it is useful for the analysis being undertaken. No group is “natural.” All collective identities are based at least to some extent on created or imagined commonalities and differences. 6 The issue of identity, always important for the study of Germany, took on new relevance when the Berlin Wall came down and people started to ask what kind of state the new Germany would become. The joy Germans felt toward unification in 1990 was accompanied by some fear that the new Germany would once again destabilize Europe and bring back the type of politics of the pre–World War II era. Politicians such as Margaret Thatcher and François Mitterrand thought so, and Thatcher’s opposition to German unification persisted until it became clear there was no alternative. Academics such as David Calleo argued in early 1990 that allowing Germany to unify would be a disaster, incompatible with European unity and reviving old European alliance structures.7 The point they missed is that not only has Germany changed over the last fifty years, but so has the fundamental nature of world politics. Germany’s identity has been recast and cannot be discerned from history alone. Germany has become a post-sovereign state, defining its national interest in terms of Western values and the importance of the West as a community based on those values. In that sense Germany’s identity is not just about pursuing national interest in terms of direct gains or relative power, but rather to promote Western values through cooperative institution-building. Those values include a commitment to democracy, concern for human rights and individual liberty, and distrust of militarism as a means to pursue political objectives. In an international system of free trade, concern for human rights, protection of individual liberties, and effective use of diplomacy, German interests and, indeed, the interests of all who share those values will be met. There will still be disagreements, but those can be dealt with through negotiation and compromise, more like the processes that take place within domestic polities than the traditional exercise of statecraft. Furthermore, there should be no long-term barrier against building a stronger European Union or transatlantic alliance, since the ties that bind are not nationalist but based on common values. That is why this identity is post-sovereign. It is built on ideals that unite many states and trump the primary value of sovereignty—independence. The only time multilateralism and German cooperation with other states is guaranteed is if it is in the name of those common values. The Cold War, for instance, generated considerable mistrust of nuclear

222

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

weapons and U.S. strategy, but most accepted that it was a battle to protect Western values from a communist threat that was both real and powerful. When the Cold War ended, the underlying problems were caused by the fact that the United States, leader of the NATO alliance and close ally of Germany, demonstrated a foreign policy identity based on traditional sovereignty. A traditional sovereign identity is one in which cooperation is seen as valuable, but only if it helps achieve national goals. Common interests are a solid basis for alliance-building, but those interests are what matter most, not the alliance. International organizations and international law are tools to try to promote national interest, but states will not make development of those laws and organizational powers a greater goal than protecting state interest and independence of action. In that sense it is unsurprising that the United States avoids signing on to agreements like the land mine agreement, the Kyoto treaty, the Comprehensive Test Ban Treaty, conventions on biological and chemical weapons, and the International Criminal Court. Those all could potentially limit U.S. independence. For a traditional sovereign state, other states are rivals—not enemies, but rather competitors who cooperate out of self-interest but do not lose sight of the fact that each has different interests and goals.8 The major divisions between Germany and the United States involve instances where Germany believes that the United States is going against the values defining the principles of the Western alliance. Germans break from an acquiescent multilateralism predictably when they are expected to act against the norms that define their post-sovereign identity. Multilateralism is rarely in and of itself good. It is a means first, and only an end when it is embedded in a context defined by what Germans understand as Western values. If the Western alliance breaks from those values, yet demands German loyalty in a multilateral effort, there is tension on German policy. At the same time, distrust of military action as a solution to problems is not absolute. The belief that the war against Hitler was just and necessary, and that evil sometimes must be confronted with force, creates conditions where German values for human rights and international law conflict with its rejection of aggressive use of the military. This created obvious tensions in policy, as Chapters 6 and 7 demonstrate, and could be countered only by embedding the use of military force into a multilateral context to enforce international law and protect human rights, not to achieve national or even alliance self-interest alone.

FOREIGN POLICY IN AN ERA OF GLOBALIZATION

223

When such tensions arise, there are a number of possible policy outcomes. Using the military in a multilateral, legal manner to protect human rights and enforce international law may be legitimate, but few in Germany would want to intervene militarily in all cases where human rights are being violated and international law ignored. The German reaction to the Iraq debate shows that Germans for the most part require the atrocities and threat to be significant and imminent. A strike against a possible future threat, in a condition where economic interests may be driving policy more than human rights concerns, is difficult for Germans to support. Support for an alliance, even when the Germans disagree with its policies, is likely when the long-term goals of German policy are best served with short-term sacrifice. The Western alliance is stronger with the United States in it, and if the United States were to embrace post-sovereign goals, it would go a long way toward expanding them. To the extent that Germans hope to convince the United States that unilateralism is misguided, they cooperate in policies they do not fully support in order to maintain solidarity. Where the line between supporting for solidarity and breaking with policy out of principle is depends on the political situation at the time of the event. Predictions on German Foreign Policy

Based on this general analysis, it is possible to make a few predictions on likely German policy trends:

1. Expansion of both the EU and NATO eastward will increase the importance of the German-Russian relationship. Germany will try to convince Russia to support multilateral and cooperative efforts to deal with mutual problems and confront Russia on issues like the war in Chechnya, which most Germans oppose. The goal will be to try to help Russia join the “community of values” Germany associates with the West, in essence to adopt post-sovereign foreign policy values. If Russia refuses, the relationship will be tense; if Russia goes along, a close German-Russian partnership could develop that might create concern within the EU. 2. Germany will continue to work closely with France to develop the institutions of the European Union, exercising soft power within EU institutions but still willing to sacrifice short-term interests for what is not only a long-term goal but also a value. Germans want the European

224

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

Union to succeed and hope it will be federal and democratic. The French, though far from De Gaulle’s Europe des patries, prefer a centralized system with protections for state sovereignty. The British agree with the French on sovereignty and with the Germans on decentralization. This will likely continue to be a slow, steady task, made more difficult by the eastward expansion. Germany will try to build an inner cooperative core of states to deepen integration and spread EU norms to the new members. The goal is a European peace order. 3. Despite German involvement in military ventures in recent years, and German acceptance of the necessity of military action in certain circumstances, German distrust of militarism and emphasis on economic interdependence suggest that military spending will not see the increases that the United States and many in the Germany military demand. This will make modernization of the German force more difficult and increase the pressure for subsuming the German force within a European Union force (perhaps through the WEU as an expression of the ESDI). 4. German relations with the United States will remain cool unless either the United States shifts its strategy from an emphasis on leadership and power to one of cooperation and partnership, or Germany decides to adopt a more traditional foreign policy identity. Neither is likely soon. Schröder was hurt politically when President Bush snubbed him, and Germans place a lot of importance on their relationship with the United States. Without the help of the first President Bush, Germany likely would not have been unified. The United States is credited with saving Germany from both Hitler and the threat of communism, and Germans are loathe to see relations deteriorate. However, U.S. unilateralism and traditional sovereign identity have created an anti-American backlash in the public and an increased willingness (sometimes displayed on the Right as well) to recognize that Germany does not have to be a tool of U.S. politics and can oppose U.S. policies that it believes misguided. The United States finds it hard to respect Germany, especially as it refuses to modernize its military and actively support U.S. efforts. It is possible that U.S. action and pressure might slowly cause Germany to give up its post-sovereign identity, or that German and European action, perhaps combined with foreign policy difficulties related to unilateralism and U.S. attempts to project its power, might bring the United States toward a more post-sovereign identity. At this point, neither seems likely, and while the two countries will try to retain as much cooperation and friendship as possible, strains like the 2002 Iraq debate are going to become more common.

FOREIGN POLICY IN AN ERA OF GLOBALIZATION

225

5. German efforts to expand international cooperation through agreements such as the Kyoto accords or the International Criminal Court will increase, with Germany tying aid, loan guarantees, and preferential economic treatment to countries (especially third-world states) who actively support such international organizations. 6. Human rights will remain a primary foreign policy value for Germany, able to justify potential military action, economic sanctions, and other actions effective in various situations. This emphasis on values such as human rights and cooperation reflect the fact that while German policy remains self-interested, that self-interest is defined more by expanding particular values rather than power.

These predictions are by necessity general and reflect norms of German foreign policy identity that are likely to change slowly. The resiliency and efficacy of Germany’s post-sovereign policy style suggest stability in the foreseeable future.

Foreign Policy in an Era of Globalization: Modell Deutschland?

Germany in 1945 was faced with conditions no state could envy. Defeated, occupied, and discredited, the German state has slowly regained sovereignty by earning the trust of its allies, integrating itself completely in the Western system, and pursuing national interests and goals through the exercise of soft power in international institutions, eschewing power politics and a myopic view of national interest. Conditions in the world today for Germany and other states are not the same as they were for the Germans in 1945, but there are reasons to believe that the post-sovereign identity Germany developed to deal with postwar realities might be a model for how countries can deal with the problems and difficulties of globalization. Globalization was defined in Chapter 1 as increased complex interdependence in the international system, accompanied by turbulence associated with cultural, economic, and political interactions between states of diverse social, political, and economic conditions. Writing in 1990, James Rosenau labeled this “post-international politics,” arguing that the nature of the international system was changing, becoming post-international. Rosenau posited that interdependence was a dynamic process, transforming international politics as increased complexity and turbulence combined with new technologies and methods of communi-

226

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

cation. Post-international politics means that anarchy, myopic self-interest, and state-centric behavior have been replaced by interconnectedness, transnational interests, and shared norms and principles about international life. 9 Rosenau argued that new demands, actions, and capabilities within the international system have led to a situation where tendencies toward systemic integration and disintegration coexist. Centripetal forces bring new groups together while centrifugal forces promote fragmentation.10 Germany’s post-sovereign identity would correspond nicely to the post-international politics that Rosenau identified. To deal with turbulence and complex interdependence, states need to cooperate and develop multilateral institutions to minimize uncertainty and foster better communication, along with the ability to cooperate on new and often unexpected problems. At the same time, these institutions should not be so centralized and bureaucratic that they become unable to cope with the tendencies toward fragmentation. The European Union, for example, centralizes authority, like that of the EMU, while at the same time promoting subsidiarity and greater regional competencies for member states and their citizens. At least one analyst already describes the European Union as a “postmodern” polity; it is emerging as a new form of political organization.11 By historical irony, the most nationalist state of the early twentieth century may be in the position to play a leadership role in moving the international system away from the kind of myopic national self-interest that has dominated world politics to this day. If Germany builds bridges to the East and is able to create a solid relationship with Russia, it might convince the Russians that their post–Cold War position is much like Germany’s position in 1945. Now as then, the key to regaining status in the system starting from a position of weakness is to work within the policy logic of multilateralism. Russian leaders may be no more convinced about post-sovereign goals than most Germans were directly after World War II, but if the policy works (something Germany can help with), one could see a spread of post-sovereign norms. Down the line this might even prove convincing to the United States, especially as challenges of globalization become more evident. Bill McSweeney notes that states can engage in strategic learning, and their acts can have an impact on both the system and their internal political culture, potentially altering even the identity of the state.12 Germany, an engine of war and destruction in the first half of the twentieth century, may emerge at the start of the twenty-first century as an engine of peace and cooperation.

FOREIGN POLICY IN AN ERA OF GLOBALIZATION

227

The international system could well be changing in a way that necessitates further restructuring of its systemic logic in order to maintain stability. Globalization, interdependence, and increased turbulence caused by revolutions in technology and science have the power to render traditional foreign policy perspectives obsolete. That does not mean that states will not cling to old patterns of behavior, but when conditions change old scripts may lead to poor results. That German policy has worked so well in a rapidly changing world makes it a potential model for how states can and should react to the challenges of globalization. The way Gorbachev and the Soviet Union emulated German multilateralism to try to save their state could be an example of how German success could lead to emulation and a spread of post-sovereign norms. The state itself, however, is changing, especially in Europe. States are not the same kind of political entities they were a hundred years ago in the heyday of European power politics.13 Not just Germany but all European states have felt this to some extent. No state in the EU focuses on war, power, and expansion as major goals; rather, economic prosperity and social stability emerge as primary goals of government.14 In Germany these goals represent more than just a shifting of interests toward the economic issues or recognition that institutions help achieve national interests, though those are components of the German perspective. The idea of the West as a community of values, the importance of the ethics of human rights, the emphasis on collective action as a solution to problems such as poverty, pollution, and global health problems go beyond even a reconceptualization of self-interest. Germans increasingly view their destiny as wrapped up with the destinies of others on the planet, especially, but not exclusively, with others in Europe or the West. This leads to a concept of self-interest that is other-inclusive. Some possible attributes of a new thinking that could emerge in the next century to deal with the problems associated with globalization or post-international politics are:

1. Complex interdependence instead of anarchy. It has long been assumed that anarchy, the absence of a central authority to enforce laws, does not mean lack of order. Hedley Bull pointed out that shared norms and principles provide order in what he called an anarchical society.15 German policy has been built on an assumption that the destinies of different states are linked through mutual dependencies, a condition known as complex interdependence. Trade, investment, and connections between states mean that conflict becomes irrational; one would

228

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

hurt one’s own interests by attacking another state. For German policy this requires the building of cooperative institutions that can act to assure that transnational actors adhere to certain rules and norms, as well as recognition that the first step in such a process is to build international norms on issues such as trade, monetary policy, and social welfare standards. 2. Subsidiarity instead of sovereignty. As noted in Chapter 5, the European Union concept of subsidiarity has been developed to try to deal with the concern about where power will lie in the EU. The idea behind subsidiarity is that power will be exercised at the level closest to the individual citizens as possible for effectively dealing with political issues. For trade, monetary, and foreign policy this might be at the supranational level, the EU, or even with the World Trade Organization (WTO). For education, social welfare programs, and local or regional concerns, more power might be shifted to local or regional governance. German federalism is built on this model, as is European Union confederalism. Too much centralization is ineffective in conditions of globalization; fragmentation comes as individuals have more information and technological capacity to act on their own. Subsidiarity takes into account both trends and could potentially allow them to coexist without contradicting each other. 16 There are dangers in taking this track. Globalization can threaten national identity, and the far right in Europe is already actively warning against the dangers of globalization, espousing both fear of foreigners and a return to a protectionist, nationalist approach to international relations.17 The lack of sovereignty also creates a danger of centralized power in the form of large corporations or concentrated capital. Edgar Grande and Thomas Risse note that it could be either a “race to the bottom,” with capital and the quest for profit leading to a reduction in social welfare systems and wages, or a process that can be guided by international cooperation.18 The structural power of capital could overwhelm domestic governments unable to control the ability of money to cross borders and seek cheaper labor and fewer regulations, ultimately requiring states to respond to economic distress by cutting taxes, reducing regulation, and ultimately slashing social welfare programs. To many on the Left, this was viewed as a part of the global hegemony of capitalism, making politics less important than in the past.19 Others are less pessimistic. Ulrich Beck notes that globalization could lead to a renaissance of politics, as social movements find it easier to build links across borders, using the same technology to communicate and send informa-

FOREIGN POLICY IN AN ERA OF GLOBALIZATION

229

tion as do powerful economic actors.20 Jürgen Hoffmann notes that the globalization process does not correspond to what either of the extremes desire or fear from it, as there are opportunity costs associated with the actions that globalization skeptics fear, which include the possibility they would inspire increased international regulation. 21 Subsidiarity might be a starting point for determining how to balance these forces. Subsidiarity might be the only way to avoid either an emphasis on sovereignty that reacts to the problems of globalization in a way that creates xenophobia and radical nationalism, or an emphasis on globalization that puts corporations and large banks outside the control of governments. International regulation that does not threaten local and regional identities would be a difficult balance to find and maintain, but it is an idea that needs to be investigated and taken seriously. 3. Value fulfillment instead of interest defined as power. Germans have constantly stressed that the West is a “community of values,” and a discussion of important ethical values has permeated the discourse around international conflict, European integration, and how to respond to terrorism and globalization. Value fulfillment introduces a way of constructing or defining interests that includes ethical values rather than focusing only on specific material gains or loses. It is probably the most striking difference in German foreign policy compared to that of traditional states. It is not that Germans eschew short-term pursuit of national interests, but that such pursuit is allowed within a framework defined by certain value considerations. The values set the broad policy goals and parameters within which basic interests are pursued. Values are not limited to principles of foreign policy; they include economic security, physical security, maintaining cultural identity, and solving environmental and human rights problems. Obviously, as the clash of Islamic extremists with the West demonstrates, value fulfillment as a goal does not necessarily lead to peace or cooperation. Post-sovereign values, however, are universal, even Kantian. They emphasize individual human rights and an ethical perspective on politics that shapes policy. It is, to be sure, a Western approach to politics, building on values of individual liberty, democracy, and rationality. One difference between post-sovereign norms and those of traditional sovereignty is that the ethical component contradicts the moral relativism of the traditional emphasis on sovereignty. By embracing the West as a community of values, Germans raise questions about whether such an approach is truly focused on globalization or limited to cooper-

230

GERMAN FOREIGN POLICY

ation with like-minded states. This is a fundamental challenge of the era of globalization: Can there be interaction between various cultures and attitudes without conflict, culture clashes, and threats to identity? If it is possible, the German approach to mistrust militarism and focus on building cooperative institutions is more likely to succeed than a universal “war on terror,” which could easily turn into a war against those not sharing our values. In that, Germany may reflect the best method for making the transition to post-international politics in a manner that neither sacrifices Western ideals to a relativism unable to make value judgments nor tries to force Western ideals onto others, causing a backlash. This could include as well the development of global solutions to problems based on what Peter Haas calls “epistemic communities” of experts or involved individuals across national boundaries to solve the problems of environmental degradation, poverty, and underdevelopment.22 Patient progress through persuasion and mutual self-interest, with war only in extreme circumstances, is one way to promote Western values of human rights and liberty in a nonthreatening manner. The New Germany

Christo’s wrapped Reichstag symbolized the emergence of a new Germany. This study demonstrates that there is little reason to expect Germany to become aggressive or militarist in its foreign policy. Christo’s symbolism by wrapping up the old for its rebirth as something new may be even more profound than he realized. In the first half of the twentieth century German policy demonstrated clearly the folly of aggression and the ability of humans to commit evil, representing the danger of nationalism and raw power politics. The Holocaust and the human tragedies caused by fascism and communism provide a lesson on the dangers of centralized power and the quest for dominance. Now Germany has the potential to be part of another lesson, this one positive. By working to promote a new culture of international politics that rejects power politics, emphasizes human rights, and focuses on the development of multilateral cooperative institutions, Germany can demonstrate that policies based on ethics and cooperation can be effective. That may be overly optimistic, and as the terrorist threat demonstrates, the path to that kind of future will have its own potholes and detours. But the reflection of the sun off of Christo’s silver polypropylene wrapping, creating a sparkle of promise and newness to a building

FOREIGN POLICY IN AN ERA OF GLOBALIZATION

231

that had represented some of the worst of German history, symbolizes the human power to transform the world. Notes

1. Maier, The Unmasterable Past, p. 151. 2. Calleo, The German Problem Reconsidered, p. 4. 3. Craig, Germany 1866–1945, especially pp. 498–591. 4. Fischer, Germany’s War Aims in the First World War. 5. Kohn, The Mind of Germany. 6. See Anderson, Imagined Communities, for a discussion of how this collective form of identity construction can take place. 7. David Calleo, “Einheit, ja, Frankenstein Monster, nein,” Die Zeit, January 5, 1990. 8. This again is similar to the “cultures of anarchy” posited by Alexander Wendt, as he noted that the current system is defined by a “Lockean” culture of anarchy where states are rivals. Wendt, Social Theory of International Politics, pp. 279–296. 9. Rosenau, Turbulence in World Politics. See also Rosenau, “The State in an Era of Cascading Politics,” and “A Pre-theory Revisited.” 10. Rosenau, “A Pre-theory Revisited,” pp. 256–257. 11. Caporaso, “The European Union and Forms of State,” pp. 29–51. 12. McSweeney, Security, Identity, and Interests. 13. See Armstrong, “Law, Justice and the Idea of a World Society,” pp. 547–561. 14. Van Ham and Grudzinski, “Affluence and Influence,” pp. 81–87. 15. Bull, The Anarchical Society. See also Legro, “Which Norms Matter.” 16. Clark, Globalization and Fragmentation, pp. 2–5. 17. See Cheles, Ferguson, and Vaughan, The Far Right in Western and Eastern Europe. In this volume, Michalina Vaughan’s article, “The Extreme Right in France: Lepenisme or the Politics of Fear,” gives a good example of how fear of globalization can aid the radical right. 18. Grande and Risse, “Bridging the Gap,” pp. 235–266. 19. See Gill and Law, “Global Hegemony and the Structural Power of Capital”; Hirsch, “Was Heißt eigentlich ‘Globalisierung’?” pp. 691–699. 20. Beck, What Is Globalization? See also Habermas, Die Postnationale Konstellation. 21. Hoffmann, “Ambivalenzen des Globalisierungsprozesses,” p. 9. 22. Haas, “Introduction: Epistemic Communities and International Policy Coordination.”

Bibliography

Abel, Ellie. The Shattered Bloc. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1990. Adenauer, Konrad. Erinnerungen. Vol. 2. Stuttgart: Deutschesverlagsanstalt, 1966. Allin, Dana H. “Germany Looks at France.” In France-Germany 1983–1993: The Struggle to Cooperate, edited by Patrick McCarthy, pp. 27–50. New York: St. Martin’s, 1993. Anderson, Benedict. Imagined Communities. New York: Verso, 1983. Anderson, Jeffrey. German Unification and the Union of Europe. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1998. ———. “Hard Interests, Soft Power, and Germany’s Changing Role in Europe.” In Tamed Power: Germany in Europe, edited by Peter J. Katzenstein, pp. 80–110. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1997. Anderson, Jeffrey, and John B. Goodman. “Mars or Minerva? A United Germany in a Post–Cold War Europe.” In International Institutions and State Strategies in Europe, 1989–1991, edited by Robert Keohane, Joseph Nye, and Stanley Hoffmann, pp. 23–62. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1993. Andreani, Gilles. “The Franco-German Relationship in a New Europe.” In Europe’s Franco-German Engine, edited by David P. Calleo and Eric R. Staal, pp. 21–37. Washington, D.C.: Washington Foundation for European Studies, 1998. Annan, Noel. Changing Enemies. New York: Norton, 1995. Armstrong, David. “Law, Justice and the Idea of a World Society.” International Affairs 7, no. 3 (July 1999): 547–561. Arrington, Aminta. “Cautious Reconciliation: The Change in Society-Military Relations in Germany and Japan Since the End of the Cold War.” Armed Forces and Security 28, no. 4 (June 2002): 531–546. Bahr, Egon. Zu Meiner Zeit. Munich: Karl Blessing Verlag, 1996. Bahro, Rudolf. Building the Green Movement. Philadelphia: New Society Publishers, 1986. 233

234

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Banchoff, Thomas. The German Problem Transformed. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1999. Baring, Arnulf. Germany’s New Position in Europe: Problems and Perspectives. New York: Oxford University Press, 1994. Barnet, Richard J. “Annuals of Diplomacy: Alliance-II.” New Yorker, October 17, 1983, pp. 94–167. Barnett, Michael. “Identity and Alliances in the Middle East.” In The Culture of National Security: Norms and Identity in World Politics, edited by Peter Katzenstein, pp. 400–447. New York: Columbia University Press, 1996. Baum, Julien. “Thatcher Puts Limits on a United Europe.” Christian Science Monitor, July 29, 1988. Baumann, Rainer, Volker Rittberger, and Wolfgang Wagner. “Power and Power Politics: Neorealist Foreign Policy Theory and Expectations About German Foreign Policy Since Unification.” Tübinger Arbeitspapiere zur Internationalen Politik und Friedensforschung, no. 30a. University of Tubingen Peace and Conflict Studies, 1998. Beck, Ulrich. “Über den postnationalistischen Krieg.” Blätter für deutsche und internationale Politik no. 8 (August 1999): 984–990. ———. What is Globalization? Cambridge, MA: Blackwell, 1998. Behrenbeck, Sabine. “Heldenkult oder Friedensmahnung? Kriegerdenkmale nach beiden Weltkriegen.” In Lernen aus dem Krieg, edited by Gottfried Niedhart and Dieter Riesenburger, pp. 344–364. Munich: C. H. Beck, 1992. Berger, Peter, and Thomas Luckmann. The Social Construction of Reality. New York: Doubleday, 1966. Berger, Thomas U. Cultures of Anti-militarism. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1998. Bertram, Christoph. “Strategic Defense and the Western Alliance.” Deadalus 114, no. 3 (summer 1985): 279–296. Betz, Hans Georg. “Mitteleuropa and Post-modern European Identity.” New German Critique, no. 50 (spring/summer 1990): 173–192. Boche, Jörg. “Franco-German Economic Relations.” In France-Germany 1983–1993: The Struggle to Cooperate, edited by Patrick McCarthy, pp. 73–91. New York: St. Martin’s, 1993. Boekle, Henning, Volker Rittberger, and Wolfgang Wagner. “Norms and Foreign Policy: Constructivist Foreign Policy Theory.” Tübinger Arbeitspapiere zur Internationalen Politik und Friedensforschung, no. 34a. University of Tubingen Peace and Conflict Studies, 1999. Booz, Rüdiger Marco. Hallsteinzeit: Deutsche Außenpolitik 1955–1972. Bonn: Bouvier, 1995. Borkenhagen, Frank. “Militarisierung deutscher Außenpolitik?” Aus Politik und Zeitgeschichte 34 (August 9, 1996): 3–9. Bracher, Karl Dietrich, Wolfgang Jäger, and Werner Link. Republik im Wandel 1969–1974: Die Ära Brandt. Stuttgart: Deutsche Verlags-Anstalt, 1986. Brechtefeld, Jörg. Mitteleuropa and German Politics. New York: St. Martin’s, 1996. Brilmayer, Lea. American Hegemony: Political Morality in a One-Superpower World. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1994.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

235

Brockmann, Stephen. “Introduction: The Reunification Debate.” New German Critique no. 52 (winter 1991): 1–30. Bruns, Wilhelm. “Nach dem Honecker Besuch—Und wie Weiter?” Aussenpolitik 38, no. 4 (1987): 345–355. ———. Normalisierung oder Wiedervereinigung—Wie geht es weiter in den deutsch-deutschen Beziehungen. Kurzpapier der Abetilung Aussenpolitik und DDR-Forschung. Bonn: Friedrich Ebert Stiftung, May 1989. Brzezinski, Zbigniew. “Post-communist Nationalism.” Foreign Affairs 68, no. 5 (winter 1989–1990): 1–25. Buczylowski, Ulrich. Kurt Schumacher und die deutsche Frage. Stuttgart: Seewald, 1973. Buhl, Dieter. “Ein Marschbefehl ins Ungewisse.” Die Zeit, July 30, 1993. Bull, Hedley. The Anarchical Society: A Study of Order in World Politics. New York: Columbia University Press, 1977. Buller, Jim, and Charlie Jeffery. “Britain, Germany and the Deepening of Europe: The Role of Domestic Norms and Institutions.” In Uneasy Allies: British-German Relations and European Integration Since 1945, edited by Klaus Larres and Elizabeth Meehan, pp. 127–142. New York: Oxford University Press, 2000. Bulmer, Simon. “Shaping the Rules? The Constitutive Politics of the European Union and German Power.” Tamed Power: Germany in Europe, edited by Peter Katzenstein, pp. 49–79. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1997. Bulmer, Simon, and William Paterson. The Federal Republic of Germany and the European Community. Boston: Allen and Unwin, 1987. Bundy, McGeorge. “Building the Atlantic Partnership: Some Lessons from the Past.” Department of State Bulletin, September 27, 1962. Burley, Anne-Marie, and Walter Mattli. “Europe Before the Court: A Political Theory of Legal Integration.” International Organization 47, no. 1 (winter 1993): 41–76. Calleo, David. The German Problem Reconsidered. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1978. Campbell, David. Writing Security. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1992. Caporaso, James. “The European Union and Forms of State: Westphalian, Regulatory, or Post-Modern?” Journal of Common Market Studies 34, no. 1 (1996): 29–51. Carnoy, Martin. “Multinationals in a Changing World.” In The New Global Economy in the Information Age, edited by Martin Carnoy, Manuel Castells, Stephen S. Cohen, and Fernando Henrique Cardoso, pp. 45–96. University Park: Penn State University Press, 1993. Carr, Jonathan. Helmut Schmidt: Helmsman of Germany. New York: St. Martin’s, 1985. Cary, Noel O. “Reassessing Germany’s Ospolitik. Part 2: From Refreeze to Reunification.” Central European History 33, no. 3 (fall 2000): 369–391. Castells, Manuel. “The Information Economy and the New International Division of Labor.” In The New Global Economy in the Information Age, edited by Martin Carnoy, pp. 15–44. University Park: Penn State University Press, 1993.

236

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Checkel, Jeffrey. “The Constructivist Turn in International Relations Theory.” World Politics 50, no. 2 (January 1998): 324–348. ———. “Norms, Institutions, and National Identity in Contemporary Europe.” International Studies Quarterly no. 43 (March 1999): 83–114. Cheles, Luciano, Ronnie Ferguson, and Michalina Vaughan, eds. The Far Right in Western and Eastern Europe. 2d ed. New York: Longman, 1995. Clark, Ian. Globalization and Fragmentation: International Relations in the Twentieth Century. New York: Oxford University Press, 1997. Clark, Wesley K. Waging Modern War. New York: Public Affairs, 2001. Clemens, Clay. “Changing Public Perceptions of NATO.” In The Federal Republic of Germany and NATO, edited by Emil Kirchner and James Sperling, pp. 29–53. New York: St. Martin’s, 1992. ———. Reluctant Realists: The CDU/CSU and Ostpolitik. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1989. Cooper, Alice H. Paradoxes of Peace: German Peace Movements Since 1945. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1996. Corbett, Richard. “Governance and Institutional Developments.” Journal of Common Market Studies 31 (August 1993): 27–49. Craig, Gordon. Germany 1866–1945. New York: Oxford University Press, 1978. ———. “Konrad Adenauer and the United States.” In The American Impact on Postwar Germany, edited by Reiner Pommerin, pp. 1–14. Providence, RI: Berghahn, 1995. Daase, Christopher, and Michael Jochum. “Partner in einer Führungsrolle?” Aussenpolitik 43, no. 3 (March 1992): 238–245. De Gaulle, Charles. Major Addresses, Statements and Press Conferences of General Charles De Gaulle. New York: French Embassy Press and Information Division, 1964. De Haan, Jacob, ed. History of the Bundesbank: Lessons for the European Bank. New York: Routledge, 2000. Denison, Andrew, “German Foreign Policy and Transatlantic Relations Since Unification.” In New Europe, New Germany, Old Foreign Policy? edited by Douglas Webber, 155–176. Portland, OR: Frank Cass, 2001. Dennis, Mike. German Democratic Republic. London: Pinter Publishing, 1987. Deporte, A. W. Europe Between the Superpowers. New York: Oxford University Press, 1979. De Rose, Francois. “Nuclear Forces and Alliance Relations: Updating Deterrence in Europe—Inflexible Response?” In Nuclear Weapons and European Security, edited by Robert Nurick, pp. 123–137. New York: St. Martin’s, 1984. Deutsch, Karl. Political Community and the North Atlantic Area. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1957. Diebel, Tobias, and Martina Fischer. “Krisenprävention in einer gewaltträchtigen Welt. Was kann europäische und deutsche Entwicklungspolitik leisten?” Aus Politik und Zeitgeschichte B-12 (March 16, 2001): 14–23. Diebold, William, Jr. The Schuman Plan. Westport, CT: Praeger, 1959. Diner, Dan, “Die nationale Frage in der Friedensbewegung.” In Die neue

BIBLIOGRAPHY

237

Friedensbewegung: Analysten aus der Friedensforschung, edited by Reiner Steinweg, pp. 86–112. Frankfurt: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1982. Doering-Manteuffel, Anselm. Die Bundesrepublik in der Ära Adenauer. Darmstadt, Germany: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1983. Dombrowski, Peter, and Richard Mansbach. “From Sovereign States to Sovereign Markets.” International Politics 36 (March 1999): 1–23. Dönhof, Marion Gräfin. “Kopflos in das Chaos.” Die Zeit, September 19, 1991. Donsbach, Wolfgang, Hans Matthias Kepplinger, and Elisabeth NoelleNeumann. “West Germans’ Perceptions of NATO and the Warsaw Pact: Long-Term Content Analysis of Der Spiegel and Trends in Public Opinion.” In Debating National Security: The Public Dimension, edited by Hans Rattinger and Don Munton, pp. 239–268. Frankfurt: Peter Lang, 1991. Doyle, Michael. “Kant, Liberal Legacies, and Foreign Affairs.” Philosophy and Public Affairs 12, no. 4 (fall 1983): 3–29. Drummond, Gordon D. The German Social Democrats in Opposition, 1949–1960: The Case Against Rearmament. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1982. Düffler, Jost. “Supranationalität und Machtpolitik im Denken deutscher politischer Eliten nach den beiden Weltkriegen.” In Lernen aus dem Krieg, edited by Gottfried Niedhart and Dieter Riesenberger, pp. 67–83. Munich: C. H. Beck, 1992. Dyson, Kenneth, and K. Featherstone. “EMU and Economic Governance in Germany.” German Politics 5, no. 3 (1996): 337–352. Edgar, Alistair D. “Intergovernmentalism and an Integrated European Defense Market.” In Between Actor and Presence: The European Union and the Future of the Transatlantic Relationship, edited by George Maclean, pp. 123–148. Ottawa: University of Ottawa Press, 2001. El-Agraa, A. M., ed. The Economics of the European Community. New York: St. Martin’s, 1985. Erb, Scott. “Ideas and Technology: Global Politics in a Brave, New World.” The Maine Scholar 13 (Autumn 2000): 81–96. Evans, Roland, and Robert Novak. “Conceding Defeat in Europe.” Washington Post, August 3, 1977, p. 19. Feld, Werner J. West Germany and the European Community. Westport, CT: Praeger, 1981. Fischer, Fritz. Germany’s War Aims in the First World War. New York: Norton, 1967. Fischer, Joschka. “Vom Staatenverbund zur Föderation: Gedanken über die Finalität der europäischen Integration.” Speech at the Humboldt University, May 12, 2000. Berlin: Grüne Dokumentation, 2000. Forrester, Viviane. Der Terror der Ökonomie. Munich: Goldman, 1998. Freund, Corinna. “German Foreign Trade Policy Within the EU.” In German Foreign Policy Since Unification, edited by Volker Rittberger, pp. 230–269. New York: Manchester University Press, 2001. Freund, Corinna, and Volker Rittberger. “Utilitarian-Liberal Foreign Policy

238

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Theory.” In German Foreign Policy Since Unification, edited by Volker Rittberger, pp. 68–104. New York: Manchester University Press, 2001. Freymond, Jacques. The Saar Conflict, 1945–1955. Westport, CT: Praeger, 1960. Friend, Julius. The Linchpin: French-German Relations, 1950–1990. Westport, CT: Praeger, 1991. ———. “U.S. Policy Towards Franco-German Cooperation.” In FranceGermany 1983–1993: The Struggle to Cooperate, edited by Patrick McCarthy, pp. 161–180. New York: St. Martin’s, 1993. Genscher, Hans Dietrich. Erinnerungen. Berlin: Siedler Verlag, 1995. ———. Wir wollen ein Eurpäisches Deutschland. Berlin: Goldman, 1991. George, Stephen. An Awkward Partner: Britain in the European Community. New York: Oxford University Press, 1990. “The German Way to Express Europe’s Growing Unease.” Lancet 360, no. 9335 (September 7, 2002): 734. Gill, Stephen, and David Law. “Global Hegemony and the Structural Power of Capital.” In Gramsci, Historical Materialism and International Relations, edited by Stephen Gill and David Law, pp. 93–124. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1993. Gilman, Sander L. “German Reunification and the Jews.” New German Critique 52 (winter 1991): 173–178. Gimble, John. The Origins of the Marshall Plan. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1976. Glaser, Charles. “Realists as Optimists: Cooperation as Self-Help.” International Security 19, no. 3 (winter 1994/1995): 50–90. Glenny, Misha. The Fall of Yugoslavia. New York: Penguin Books, 1992. Goebel, Peter. “German Security Policy.” National Defense University Institute for National Strategic Studies Strategic Forum 164 (June 1999): 1–4. Goertz, Gary, and Paul F. Diehl. “Towards a Theory of International Norms: Some Conceptual and Measurement Issues.” Journal of Conflict Resolution 36, no. 4 (1992): 634–664. Goetz, Klaus. “Integration Policy in a Europeanized State: Germany and the Intergovernmental Conference.” Journal of European Public Policy 3, no. 1 (1996): 24–40. Gorbachev, Mikhail. Erinnerungen. Translated by Igor Gorodetzki. Berlin: Siedler Verlag, 1995. ———. For a Common European Home: For a New Way of Thinking. Moscow: Novosti Press, 1987. ———. Perestroika: New Thinking for Our Country and the World. New York: Harper and Row, 1987. Gordon, Philip H. France, Germany and the Western Alliance. Boulder: Westview, 1995. ———. “The Franco-German Security Partnership.” In France-Germany 1983–1993: The Struggle to Cooperate, edited by Patrick McCarthy, pp. 139–160. New York: St. Martin’s, 1993. Grande, Egar, and Thomas Risse. “Bridging the Gap.” Zeitschrift für Internationale Beziehungen 7, no. 2 (2000): 235–266.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

239

Grant, Wyn. The Common Agricultural Policy. New York: St. Martin’s, 1997. Greider, William. One World, Ready or Not: The Manic Logic of Global Capitalism. New York: Simon and Schuster, 1997. Gress, David. Peace and Survival: West Germany, the Peace Movement, and European Security. Stanford: Hoover Institution Press, 1985. Grieco, Joseph M. “State Interests and Institutional Rule Trajectories: A Neorealist Reinterpretation of the Maastricht Treaty and European Economic and Monetary Union.” In Realism: Restatement and Renewal, edited by B. Frankel, pp. 262–305. London: Frank Cass, 1996. Griffith, William. The Ostpolitik of the Federal Republic of Germany. Cambridge: MIT Press, 1978. Grünewald, Guido, and Dieter Riesenberger. “Die Friedensbewegung nach den Weltkriegen.” In Lernen Aus dem Krieg? edited by Gottfried Niedhart and Dieter Riesenberger, pp. 96–121. Munich: C. H. Beck, 1992. Gutjahr, Lothar. German Foreign and Defense Policy After Unification. London: Pinter, 1994. Haas, Ernst B. Beyond the Nation-State: Functionalism and International Organization. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1964. ———. The Obsolescence of Integration Theory. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1976. Haas, Peter M. “Introduction: Epistemic Communities and International Policy Coordination.” International Organization 46, no. 1 (winter 1992): 1–35. Habermas, Jürgen. “Apologetic Tendency in German History.” Die Zeit, July 11, 1986. ———. Die Postnationale Konstellation. Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp, 1998. ———. “Yet Again: German Identity—A Unified Nation of Angry DMBurghers?” New German Critique 52 (winter 1991): 84–94. Hacke, Christian. Die Aussenpolitik der Bundesrepublik Deutschland: Weltmacht wider Willen. 4th ed. Berlin: Ullstein Verlag, 1997. ———. “Die CDU und die Deutsche Frage.” In Die Deutsche Frage im Spiegel der Parteien, edited by Dieter Blumenwitz and Gottfried Ziegler, pp. 87–98. Köln: Verlag Wissenschaft und Politik, 1989. ———. “Die neue Bedeutung des nationalen Interesses für die Außenpolitik der Bundesrepublik Deutschland.” Aus Politik und Zeitgeschichte (January 3, 1997): 3–14. ———. Die Ost- und Deutschlandpolitik der CDU/CSU. Köln: Verlag Wissenschaft und Politik, 1975. Haftendorn, Helga. “Der gültige Hegemon und die unsichere Mittelmacht: Deutsch-amerikanische Beziehungen im Wandel.” Aus Politik und Zeitgeschichte B-29/30 (July 16, 1999): 3–11. Haggard, Stephan, and Beth Simmons. “Theories of International Regimes.” International Organization 41, no. 3 (summer 1987): 491–518. Hamalainen, Pekka Kalevi. Uniting Germany. Boulder: Westview, 1994. Hanrieder, Wolfram. Germany, America, and Europe. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1989. ———. West German Foreign Policy 1949–1963. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1967.

240

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Hardach, Karl. Contemporary Economies. Vol. 6, edited by Carlo M. Cipolla. Cambridge, MA: Harvester Press, 1975. Harmsen, Robert, and Nickolas Reinhardt. “Negotiating Intergovernmental Conferences: Maastricht, Amsterdam and Beyond.” In Uneasy Allies: British-German Relations and European Integration Since 1945, edited by Klaus Larres and Elizabeth Meehan, pp. 277–298. New York: Oxford University Press, 2000. Harrison, Michael. The Reluctant Ally. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1978. Hartz, Louis. The Ideology of American Foreign Policy: A Paradigm of Lockean Liberalism. Beverly Hills: Sage, 1973. Hay, Colin. “Structure and Agency.” In Theory and Methods in Political Science, edited by David Marsh and Gerry Stoker, pp. 189–208. New York: Macmillan, 1995. Hayes-Renshaw, Fiona, and Helen Wallace. The Council of Ministers. New York: St. Martin’s, 1997. Heilemann, Ulrich, and Reimut Jochimsen. Christmas in July? The Political Economy of German Unification Reconsidered. Washington, D.C.: Brookings Institution, 1993. Heisenberg, Dorothee. The Mark of the Bundesbank. Boulder: Lynne Rienner, 1999. Hellmann, Gunther. “Deutschlands Kraft und Europas Vertrauen oder; die Selbstbewußten, die Befangenen und die Betroffenen der neuen deutschen Außenpolitik.” In Neue deutsche Außen- und Sicherheitspolitik? Eine friedenswissenschaftliche Bilanz zwei Jahre nach dem Regierungswechsel, edited by Christiane Lammers and Lutz Schrader, pp. 42–77. BadenBaden: Nomos Verlagsgesellschaft, 2000. ———. “Goodbye Bismarck? The Foreign Policy of Contemporary Germany.” Mearshon International Studies Review 40 (1996): 1–39. ———. “Nationale Normalität als Zukunft? Zur Außenpolitik der Berliner Republik.” Blätter für deutsche und Internationale Politik 44, no. 7 (July 1999): 837–847. Hillgruber, Andreas. Interview in the Rheinischer Merkur, October 31, 1986. Hirsch, Joachim. “Was Heißt eigentlich Globalisierung? Überlegungen zur neuen Weltordnung anläßlich des Kosovo Krieges.” Das Argument 232 (1999): 692–699. Hiscocks, Richard. The Adenauer Era. Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott, 1966. Hoagland, J. “Europe’s Destiny.” Foreign Affairs 69, no. 1 (1989): 33–51. Hoffmann, Jürgen. “Ambivalenzen des Globalisierungsprozesses.” Aus Politik und Zeitgeschichte (June 4, 1999): 3–10. Hurd, Douglas. “Political Cooperation.” International Affairs 57, no. 3 (summer 1981): 383–394. Hyde-Price, Adrian. Germany and European Order. New York: Manchester University Press, 2000. Ingimundarson, Valur. “The American Dimension: Britain, Germany and the Reinforcement of U.S. Hegemony in Europe in the 1990s.” In Uneasy Allies: British-German Relations and European Integration Since 1945,

BIBLIOGRAPHY

241

edited by Klaus Larres and Elizabeth Meehan, pp. 165–183. New York: Oxford University Press, 2000. Jahn, Egbert, and Volker Rittberger, eds. Die Ostpolitik der BRD: Triebkräfte, Widerstände, Konsequenzen. Opladen: Westdeutscher Verlag, 1984. Jarausch, Konrad. The Rush to German Unity. New York: Oxford University Press, 1994. Jentleson, Bruce W. Pipeline Politics: The Complex Political Economy of EastWest Energy Trade. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1986. Jones, Erik. “Small Countries and the Franco-German Relationship.” In France-Germany 1983–1993: The Struggle to Cooperate, edited by Patrick McCarthy, pp. 113–138. New York: St. Martin’s, 1993. Kaiser, Jakob. Wir haben Brücke zu sein: Reden, Äußerungen und Aufsätzezur Deutschland-politik. Köln: Verlag Wissenschaft und Politik, 1988. Kaiser, Karl, and Klaus Becher. Deutschland un der Irak-Konflikt. Bonn: Forschungsinstitut der Deutschen Gesellschaft für Auswärtige Politik, 1992. Karaganov, Sergei. “Implications of German Unification for the Former Soviet Union.” In The New Germany and the New Europe, edited by Paul Stares, pp. 331–364. Washington, D.C.: Brookings Institution, 1992. Katzenstein, Peter J. Small States in World Markets: Industrial Policy in Europe. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1985. ———. “United Germany in an Integrating Europe.” In Tamed Power: Germany in Europe, edited by Peter Katzenstein, pp. 1–48. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1997. ———, ed. The Culture of National Security Norms and Identity in World Politics. New York: Columbia University Press, 1996. Kay, Sean. NATO and the Future of European Security. Lanham: Rowman & Littlefield, 1998. Kegley, Charles W. “The Neoidealist Moment in International Studies? Realist Myths and the New International Realities.” International Studies Quarterly 37, no. 2 (1993): 131–146. Kegley, Chalres W., and Eugene R. Wittkopf. World Politics: Trend and Transformation. 3d ed. Belmont, CA: Wadsworth, 1989. Kenen, Peter B. Economic and Monetary Union in Europe: Moving Beyond Maastricht. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1995. Keohane, Robert. After Hegemony. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1984. ———. “Correspondence.” International Security 15, no. 2 (fall 1990): 191–199. Keohane, Robert O., and Joseph S. Nye. Power and Interdependence. 2d ed. New York: Harper Collins, 1989. Keohane, Robert O., Joseph S. Nye, and Stanley Hoffmann, eds. After the Cold War: International Institutions and State Strategies in Europe. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1993. Kettenacker, Lothar. “Britain and German Unification, 1989/90.” In Uneasy Allies: British-German Relations and European Integration Since 1945, edited by Klaus Larres and Elizabeth Meehan, pp. 99–123. New York: Oxford University Press, 2000.

242

BIBLIOGRAPHY

———. “The Planning of Re-education During the Second World War.” In The Political Re-education of Germany and Her Allies After World War II, edited by Nicholas Pronay and Keith Wilson, pp. 59–82. New York: Barnes and Noble, 1985. Kirchner, Emil J. “NATO or WEU? Security Policy Since 1990.” In NATO and the Quest for Post–Cold War Security, edited by Clay Clemons, pp. 184–203. New York: St. Martin’s, 1997. Kistler, Helmut. Bundesdeutsche Geschichte: Die Entwicklung der BRD seit 1945. Bonn: Aktuell, 1986. Klotz, Audie. Norms in International Relations: The Struggle Against Apartheid. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1995. Koch, Claus. Die Gier des Marktes. Munich: Carl Hanser, 1995. Kohl, Helmut. Ich Wollte Deutschlands Einheit, edited by Kai Diekmann and Ralf Georg Reuth. Berlin: Propyläen, 1996. Kohn, Hans. The Mind of Germany: The Education of a Nation. New York: Scribner’s, 1960. Krasner, Stephen. “Structural Causes and Regime Consequences: Regimes as Intervening Variables.” In International Regimes, edited by Stephen Krasner, pp. 1–21. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1983. Kreile, Michael. “The Political Economy of the New Germany.” In The New Germany and the New Europe, edited by Paul Stares, pp. 55–92. Washington, D.C.: The Brookings Institution, 1992. Krippendorf, Ekkehart. “Unzufrieden: Vierzig Jahre Politische Wissenschaft.” Blätter für deutsche und Internationale Politik 8 (August 1999): 991–1001. Kühnlein, Gertrud. Die Entwicklung der Kritischen Friedensforschung in der Bundesrepublik Deutschland. Frankfurt: Haag and Aerchen, 1978. Kujat, Harald. “Remaining Relevant.” Armed Forces Journal International 138, no. 7 (February 2001): 58–60. LaFeber, Walter. America, Russia, and the Cold War, 1945–2000. Boston: McGraw-Hill, 2002. Lafontaine, Oskar. Angst vor den Freunden. Germany: Reinbek, 1983. Layne, Christopher. “The Unipolar Illusion: Why New Great Powers Will Rise.” International Security 17, no. 4 (spring 1993): 5–49. Legro, Jeffrey W. “Which Norms Matter.” International Organization 51, no. 1 (1997): 31–63. Leicht, Robert. “Europas jugoslawische Zwickmühle.” Die Zeit, September 12, 1991. Lindberg, Leon, and Stuart Scheingold. Europe’s Would-Be Polity. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice Hall, 1970. Lodge, Juliet. “European Union and the First Elected European Parliament: The Spinelli Initiative.” Journal of Common Market Studies 22, no. 4 (June 1984): 380–395. Lölhöffel, Helmut. “Streit über Anerkennung.” Frankfurter Rundschau, October 14, 1991. Lugar, Richard. “Interview mit Senator Richard Lugar über Amerikas Vormachtrolle nach dem Krieg.” Der Spiegel, March 18, 1991, pp. 186–192.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

243

Maier, Charles. The Unmasterable Past. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1987. Mansfield, Edward D., and Jack Snyder. “Democratization and the Danger of War.” International Security 20, no. 2 (summer 1995): 5–38. Martin, Hans-Peter, and Harald Schumann. Die Globalisierungsfalle: Die Angriff auf Demokratie und Wohlstand. Hamburg: Rowohlt, 1996. Maull, Hans W. “German Foreign Policy, Post-Kosovo: Still a ‘Civilian Power’?” German Politics 9, no. 2 (fall 2000): 1–24. ———. “Germany and Japan: The New Civilian Powers.” Foreign Affairs 65, no. 5 (winter 1990/1991): 91–106. ———. “Zivilmacht Deutschland: 14 Thesen für eine neue deutsche Aussenpolitik.” Europa Archiv 47, no. 10 (1992): 269–278. Maull, Hans W., and Knut Kirste. “Zivilmacht und Rollentheorie.” Zeitschrift für Internationale Beziehungen 3, no. 2 (December 1997): 283–312. Mayer, Tilman. “Konfliktlinien in der Atlantischen Allianz.” Aus Politik und Zeitgeschichte B-29/30 (July 16, 1999): 22–29. McAllister, James. No Exit: America and the German Problem 1943–1954, Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2002. McCarthy, Patrick. “Condemned to Partnership: The Franco-German Relationship, 1944–1984.” In France-Germany 1983–1993: The Struggle to Cooperate, edited by Patrick McCarthy, pp. 1–26. New York: St. Martin’s, 1993. ———. “France Looks at Germany, or How to Become German (and European) While Remaining French.” In France-Germany 1983–1993: The Struggle to Cooperate, edited by Patrick McCarthy, pp. 51–72. New York: St. Martin’s, 1993. ———. “The Franco-German Axis from De Gaulle to Chirac.” Europe’s Franco-German Engine, edited by David P. Calleo and Eric R. Staal, pp. 101–136. Washington, D.C.: The Brookings Institution, 1998. McSweeney, Bill. Security, Identity, and Interests: A Sociology of International Relations. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1999. Mearsheimer, John. “Back to the Future: Instability in Europe After the Cold War.” International Security 15, no. 1 (winter 1990): 5–56. ———. “Back to the Future Part III: Realism and the Realities of European Security.” International Security 15, no. 3 (winter 1990/1991): 216–222. ———. “Why We Will Soon Miss the Cold War.” The Atlantic, August 1990, pp. 35–50. Mehl, Regine. Bundestagsparteien und Sicherheitspolitik in den achtziger Jahren. Bochum: Universitätsverlag Dr. N. Brockmeyer, 1989. Messner, Dirk. “Globalisierungsanforderungen an Institutionen deutscher Außen- und Entwicklungspolitik.” Aus Politik und Zeitgeschichte B-18/19 (August 27, 2001): 21–29. Mey, Holgar H. “Nuclear Norms and German Nuclear Interests.” Comparative Strategy 20, no. 3 (July 2001): 241–249. Meyer, Stephen. “The Sources and Prospects of Gorbachev’s New Political Thinking on Security.” International Security 13, no. 2 (fall 1988): 124–163. Michelmann, Hans J. “The Perils of Treaty Amendment in the European Union:

244

BIBLIOGRAPHY

The 1996–97 IGC and EU Enlargement.” Between Actor and Presence: The European Union and the Future of the Transatlantic Relationship, edited by George Maclean, pp. 43–77. Ottawa: University of Ottawa Press, 2001. Middel, Andreas. “Der Kosovo Konflikt prägt schon das Neue-Nato-Konzept.” Die Welt, April 23, 1999. Miskimmon, Alister John. “Recasting the Security Bargains: Germany, European Security Policy and the Transatlantic Relationship.” In New Europe, New Germany, Old Foreign Policy? edited by Douglas Webber, pp. 83–106. Portland, OR: Frank Cass, 2001. Moens, Alexander. “European Security and Defense and NATO: Moving from Influence to Activity.” In Between Actor and Presence: The European Union and the Future of the Transatlantic Relationship, edited by George Maclean, pp. 169–192. Ottawa: University of Ottawa Press, 2001. Mommsen, Hans. “Nationalismus und transnationale Integrationsprozesse in der Gegenwart.” Aus Politik und Zeitgeschichte (March 1, 1980): 3–14. Moravcsik, Andrew. “Negotiating the Single European Act.” In The New European Community: Decision Making and Institutional Change, edited by Robert O. Keohane and Stanley Hoffmann, pp. 41–84. Boulder: Westview, 1991. Morgan, Roger. “France and Germany as Partners in the European Community.” In France-Germany 1983–1993: The Struggle to Cooperate, edited by Patrick McCarthy, pp. 93–112. New York: St. Martin’s, 1993. Morgenthau, Hans J. Politics Among Nations, 5th edition, New York: Alfred Knopf, 1978. Mortimer, Edward. “European Security After the Cold War.” Adelphi Paper 271, summer 1992. Mueller, Harald. “Germany Hopes It Will Go Away.” Bulletin of Atomic Scientists 57, no. 6 (November/December 2001): 31–34. Mushaben, Joyce. “Grassroots and Gewaltfreie Aktion: A Study of Mass Mobilization Strategies in the West German Peace Movement.” Journal of Peace Research 23, no. 2 (1986): 141–155. Mutz, Reinhard. Deutsche Aussenpolitik—Militarisierung ist mehr als ein Schlagwort geworden. Hamburg: Institut für Sicherheitspolitik an der Universität Hamburg, August 4, 2000. Mutz, Reinhard, Gert Krell, and Heinz Wismann, eds. Friedensgutachten 1992. Hamburg: Institut für Friedensforschung und Sicherheitspolitik an der Universität Hamburg, Hessische Stiftung Friedens- und Konfliktsforschung, Forschungstätte der Evangelischen Studiensgemeinschaft, 1992. Nagengast, Emil. “Germany’s New Ostpolitik and the Ideology of Multilateralism.” International Politics 35 (September 1998): 305–331. Nelsen, Brent F., and Alexander Stubb, eds. The European Union: Readings on Theory and Practice of European Integration. 2d ed. Boulder: Lynne Rienner, 1998. Niedhart, Gottfried, and Dieter Riesenberger, eds. Lernen aus dem Krieg? Deutsche Nachriegszeiten, 1918 und 1945. Munich: C. H. Beck, 1992.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

245

Noelle-Neumann, Elisabeth, and T. Petersen. “Die öffentliche Meinung.” In Jahrbuch der Europäischen Integration 1997/1998, edited by W. Weidenfeld and Wolfgang Wessels, pp. 295–302. Bonn: Europa Union Verlag, 1999. Nolte, Ernst. “Die negative Lebendigkeit des Dritten Reichs.” Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, July 24, 1980. Orlow, Dietrich. “Ambivalence and Attraction: The German Social Democrats and the United States, 1945–1974.” In The American Impact on Postwar Germany, edited by Reiner Pommerin. Providence, RI: Berghahn, 1995. Papcke, Sven. “Zur Neuorientierung deutscher Außenpolitik.” Aus Politik und Zeitgeschichte 12 (March 13, 1998): 3–13. Paterson, William E. “The Chancellor and Foreign Policy.” In Adenauer to Kohl, edited by Stephen Padget, pp. 123–155. Washington, D.C.: Georgetown University Press, 1994. ———. The SPD and European Integration. Lexington, MA: Saxon House/Lexington Books, 1974. Perger, Werner. “Ein Weg voller Dornen.” Die Zeit, September 12, 1991. ———. “Lob der kleinen Schritte.” Die Zeit, September 26, 1991. Petschow, Ulrich, and Susanne Dröge. “Globalisierung und Umweltpolitik: Die Rolle des Nationalstaates.” Aus Politik und Zeitgeschichte B-23 (June 4, 1999): 23–31. Pinder, John. “The Eastern Enlargement of the European Union.” In Uneasy Allies: British-German Relations and European Integration Since 1945, edited by Klaus Larres and Elizabeth Meehan, pp. 143–164. New York: Oxford University Press, 2000. ———. European Community: The Building of a Union. New York: Oxford University Press, 1995. ———. “European Community and Nation State: A Case for Neo-Federalism.” International Affairs 62, no. 1 (1986): 41–55. Pittman, Avril. From Ostpolitik to Reunification: West German–Soviet Political Relations Since 1974. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1992. Plock, Ernest D. The Basic Treaty and the Evolution of East-West German Relations. Boulder: Westview, 1986. ———. East German and West German Relations and the Fall of the GDR, Boulder: Westview, 1993. Pollack, Mark A. “International Relations Theory and European Integration.” Journal of Common Market Studies 39, no. 2 (June 2001): 221–244. Pommerin, Reiner. “The United States and the Armament of the Federal Republic of Germany.” In The American Impact on Postwar Germany, edited by Reiner Pommerin, pp. 15–34. Providence, RI: Berghahn, 1995. Pond, Elizabeth. “Germany Finds Its Niche as a Regional Power.” Washington Quarterly 19, no. 1 (winter 1996): 25–43. Preeg, Ernest H. Traders in a Brave New World. Chicago: Chicago University Press, 1995. Pridham, Geoffrey. “The European Policy of Franz Josef Strauss.” Journal of Common Market Studies 18, no. 4 (June 1980): 313–332.

246

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Prince, K. Michael. “Under Construction: The Berlin Republic.” Washington Quarterly 22, no. 3 (1999): 109–136. Pritzel, I. National Identity and Foreign Policy: Nationalism and Leadership in Poland, Russia, Ukraine. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1998. Pronay, Nicholas. “To Stamp Out the Whole Tradition.” In The Political Reeducation of Germany and Her Allies After World War II, edited by Nicholas Pronay and Keith Wilson, pp. 1–30. New York: Barnes and Noble, 1985. Ramet, Sabrina P., and Letty Coffin. “German Foreign Policy Towards the Yugoslav Successor States, 1991–1999.” Problems of Post-communism 48, no. 1 (January/February 2001): 48–65. Reich, Robert. “Who Is Us.” Harvard Business Review, January 1990, pp. 53–64. Rexin, Manfred. “Der Besuch September 1987: Honecker in the Bundesrepublik.” Aus Politik und Zeitgeschichte 40/41 (September 26, 1997): 3–11. Rittberger, Volker, ed. Regime Theory and International Relations. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1993. Rometsch, Dietrich. “The Federal Republic of Germany.” In The European Union and Member States: Towards Institutional Fusion? edited by Dietrich Rometsch and Wolfgang Wessels, pp. 61–104. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1996. Roos, John G. “Bundeswehr Embraces Defense Reform.” Armed Forces Journal International 137, no. 12 (July 2000): 20–22. Rosenau, James. “A Pre-theory Revisited: World Politics in an Era of Cascading Interdependence.” International Studies Quarterly 28, no. 3 (1984): 245–305. ———. The Scientific Study of Foreign Policy. New York: Nichols Publishing, 1980. ———. “The State in an Era of Cascading Politics.” Comparative Political Studies 21, no. 1 (April 1988): 13–44. ———. The Study of Political Adaptation. Nichols Publishing, 1981. ———. Turbulence in World Politics: A Theory of Change and Continuity. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1990. Ross, George, and Jane Jenson. “The Tragedy of the French Left.” New Left Review 171 (September/October 1988): 5–45. Ruggie, John Gerard. “International Regimes, Transactions, and Change: Embedded Liberalism in the Postwar Economic Order.” In International Regimes, edited by Stephen Krasner, pp. 195–232. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1983. Rühl, Lothar. “Die NATO und ethnische Konflikte.” Aus Politik und Zeitgeschichte B-20 (May 11, 2001): 2–10. Rusk, Dean. “News Conference on December 10, 1962.” Department of State Bulletin, December 31, 1962. Sampson, Martin W. “Cultural Influences on Foreign Policy.” In New Directions in the Study of Foreign Policy, edited by Charles F. Hermann, Charles W. Kegley, and James N. Rosenau, pp. 384–408. Boston: Allen and Unwin, 1987.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

247

Sani, Giacoma, and Giovanni Sartori. “Polarization, Fragmentation, and Competition in Western Democracies.” In Western European Party Systems, edited by Hans Daalder and Peter Mair, pp. 307–340. Beverly Hills: Sage, 1983. Sarotte, M. E. Dealing with the Devil: East Germany, Détente, and Ostpolitik 1969–1973. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2000. Sazama, Gerald. “International Capital Flows.” In Introducing Global Issues, edited by Michael T. Snarr and D. Neil Snarr, pp. 99–116. Boulder: Lynne Rienner, 1998. Schafer, Werner. “The German Question Resolved.” Harvard International Review 23, no. 2 (summer 2001): 38–42. Schauer, Hans. “Europa und Amerika—Rivalen oder Partner?” Aus Politik und Zeitgeschichte B-29/30 (July 16, 1999): 12–21. Schmidt, Helmut. “Einer für alle.” Die Zeit, November 15, 2001, pp. 23–24. ———. A Grand Strategy for the West: The Anachronism of National Strategies in an Interdependent World. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1985. Schöllgen, Gregor. Die Aussenpolitik der Bundesrepublik Deutschland. Munich: C. H. Beck, 1999. Scholz, Rupert. “Deutsche UNO-Soldaten im Spannungsfeld von Politik und Grundgesetz.” In Die Blauhelme, edited by Ernst Koch. Bonn: Umschau Buchverlag, 1991. Schrade, C. “Machtstaat, Handelstaat oder Zivilstaat.” Zeitschrift für Internationale Beziehungen 4, no. 2 (December 1997): 255–294. Schwarz, Hans-Peter. Die Zentralmacht Europas: Deutschlands Rückkehr auf die Weltbühne. Berlin: Siedler Verlag, 1994. Schwelien, Michael. “Ein Staat zerbirst.” Die Zeit, August 9, 1991. Seeler, Hans Joachim. “Neue Wege einer europäischen Sicherheits- und Verteidigungspolitik.” Europa Archiv, January 10, 1993, pp. 12–18. Serfaty, Simon. “NATO at Sixty: Quests for Western Security in a Changing World.” In NATO and the Quest for Post–Cold War Security, edited by Clay Clemens, pp. 7–34. New York: St. Martin’s, 1997. Shevardnadze, Eduard. The Future Belongs to Freedom. New York: Free Press, 1991. Shirer, William. The Nightmare Years, 1930–1940, New York: Bantam, 1985. Shultz, George. Turmoil and Triumph. New York: Scribner’s, 1993. Shumaker, David H. Gorbachev and the German Question: Soviet-West German Relations 1985–1990. Westport, CT: Praeger, 1995. Sikkink, Kathryn, and Thomas Risse. “The Socialization of International Human Rights Norms into Domestic Practices.” In The Power of Human Rights: International Norms and Domestic Change, edited by Thomas Risse, Stephen C. Ropp, and Kathryn Sikkink, pp. 1–38. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1999. Simonian, Haig. The Privileged Partnership: Franco-German Relations in the European Community, 1969–1984. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1985. Singer, Otto. “The Politics and Economics of German Unification.” German Politics 1, no. 1 (April 1992): 78–94.

248

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Snyder, Jack L. “Averting Anarchy in the New Europe.” International Security 15, no. 4 (spring 1990): 5–41. Sommer, Theo. “Deutsche Außenpolitik: Unterwegs.” Die Zeit, March 8, 2001. ———. “Deutschland: Gedoppelt, nicht getrennt.” Die Zeit, September 11, 1987. ———. “Die Vergangenheit vergeht nicht.” Die Zeit, April 30, 1993, p. 1. Sperling, James. “The German Quest for Geo-economic Security Since 1945.” In The Federal Republic of Germany at Fifty: The End of a Century of Turmoil, edited by Peter H. Merkl, pp. 275–286. New York: Macmillan, 1999. Spurr, David. The Rhetoric of Empire. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1993. Staack, Michael. “Großmacht oder Handelsstaat.” Aus Politik und Zeitgeschichte 12 (March 13, 1998): 14–24. Staub, Ervin. The Roots of Evil. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1989. Steininger, Rolf. “The German Question.” In Germany Since Unification: The Domestic and External Consequences, edited by Klaus Larres, pp. 9–32. New York: St. Martin’s, 1998. Stent, Angela. “The New Ostpolitik of the SPD-Green Government— Continuity or Retrenchment?” American Institute of Contemporary German Studies Paper Series After the 1998 Elections, 1999. ———. Russia and Germany Reborn. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1999. Stuermer, Michael. “History in a Land Without a History.” Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, April 25, 1986. Swidler, Ann. “Culture in Action: Symbols and Strategies.” American Sociological Review 51, no. 2 (April 1986): 273–286. Szabo, Stephen F. The Changing Politics of German Security. London: Pinter, 1990. ———. The Diplomacy of German Unification. New York: St. Martin’s, 1992. Taylor, Paul. “The New Dynamics of EC Inegration in the 1980s.” In The European Community and the Challenge of the Future, edited by Juliet Lodge, pp. 3–25. New York: St. Martin’s, 1989. Teeson, Fernando R. A Philosophy of International Law. Boulder: Westview, 1998. Teltschik, Horst. 329 Tage: Innenansichten der Einigung. Berlin: Siedler, 1991. Teusch, Ulrich. “Zwischen Globalisierung und Fragmentierung: Theoriendebatten in den ‘Internationalen Beziehungen.’” Neue Politische Literatur 44 (1999): 402–425. Thatcher, Margaret. The Downing Street Years, 1979–1990. New York: Harper Perennial, 1995. Timmerman, Heinz. “Russlands Strategie für die Europäische Union.” Bericht des Bundesinstitut für ostwissenschaftliche 5 (April 13, 2000): 1–3. Tsoukalis, Loukas. The New European Economy Revisited. New York: Oxford University Press, 1997. Urwin, Derek W. The Community of Europe: A History of European Integration Since 1945. New York: Longman, 1991.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

249

Van Ham, Peter, and Przemyslaw Grudzinski. “Affluence and Influence: The Conceptual Basis of Europe’s New Politics.” The National Interest 58 (winter 1999): 81–87. Voigt, Karsten O. “Die Zukunft der deutsch-amerikanischen Beziehungen.” Aus Politik und Zeitgeschichte 44 (October 27, 2000): 3–5. Von Alten, Jürgen. Die Ganz Normale Anarchie: Jetzt Beginnt die Nachkriegszeit. Berlin: Siedler Verlag, 1994. Von Baudissin, Wolf, Count. “The New German Army.” Foreign Affairs 34, no. 4 (October 1955): 1–13. Von Neumann, John, and Oskar Morgenstern. The Theory of Games and Economic Behavior. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1953. Wagner, Wolfgang. “German EU Constitutional Foreign Policy.” In German Foreign Policy Since Unification, edited by Volker Rittberger, pp. 185–229. New York: Manchester University Press, 2001. Wallace, Helen, and William Wallace. Policy Making in the European Union. 4th ed. New York: Oxford University Press, 2000. Wallace, William. Britain in Europe. London: Heineman, 1980. ———. “Europe as a Confederation: The Community and the Nation State.” Journal of Common Market Studies 21, no. 1 (September 1982): 57–76. Wallander, Celeste A. Mortal Friends, Best Enemies. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1999. Waltz, Kenneth. “The Emerging Structure of International Politics.” International Security 18, no. 2 (1993): 44–79. ———. Man, the State, and War. New York: Columbia University Press, 1959. ———. Theory of International Relations. Reading, MA: Addison-Wesley, 1979. Walzer, Michael. Just and Unjust War. New York: Basic Books, 1977. Wassermann, Sherri. The Neutron Bomb Controversy: A Study in Alliance Politics. Westport, CT: Praeger, 1983. Weiler, J. H. “A Quiet Revolution: The European Court of Justice and Its Interlocutors.” Comparative Political Studies 26, no. 4 (1994): 510–533. Welsh, Helga. “Four Years and Several Elections Later: The Eastern German Political Landscape After Unification.” In Germany’s New Politics, edited by David P. Conradt, Gerald R. Kleinfeld, George K. Romoser, and Christian Soe, pp. 43–60. Providence, RI: Berghahn, 1995. Wendt, Alexander. “Anarchy Is What States Make of It.” International Organization 46, no. 2 (1992): 391–425. ———. Social Theory of International Politics. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1999. Wendt, Alexander, and Raymond Duvall. “Institutions and International Order.” In Global Changes and Theoretical Challenges, edited by Ernst Otto Czempiel and James N. Rosenau, pp. 51–73. Lexington, MA: Lexington Books, 1989. Wessels, Wolfgang. “An Ever Closer Fusion? A Dynamic Macropolitical View on Integration Processes.” Journal of Common Market Studies 35, no. 2 (June 1997): 267–299.

250

BIBLIOGRAPHY

———. “Nice Results: The Millennium IGC in the EU’s Evolution.” Journal of Common Market Studies 39, no. 2 (June 2001): 197–219. Wette, Wolfram. “Die deutsche militärische Führungsschicht in den Nachkriegszeiten.” In Lernen aus dem Krieg, edited by Gottfried Niedhart and Dieter Riesenberger, pp. 39–66. Munich: C. H. Beck, 1992. Wettig, Gerhard. “Sicherheit in Europa—eine herasufordernde Aufgabe.” Aussenpolitik 43, no. 1 (January 1992): 3–11. Wight, Martin. Power Politics. London: Royal Institute of International Affairs, 1946. Wood, David M., and Birol A. Yesilada. The Emerging European Union. 2d ed. New York: Longman, 2002. Wood, Stephen. Germany, Europe, and the Persistence of Nations. Brookfield, UK: Ashgate, 1998. Woyke, Wichard. “Die NATO vor neuen Herausforderungen.” Aussenpolitik 44, no. 2 (February 1993): 120–127. Yee, Albert S. “The Causal Effects of Ideas on Policies.” International Organization 50, no.1 (1996): 69–108. Yoder, Jennifer. From East Germans to Germans? Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1998. Zehfuß, Maja. “Constructivism and Identity: A Dangerous Liason.” European Journal of International Relations 7, no. 3 (2001): 315–348. ———. “Sprachlosigkeit schränkt ein.” Zeitschrfit für Internationale Beziehungen 5, no. 1 (1998): 109–137. Zelikow, Philip, and Condoleezza Rice. Germany Unified and Europe Transformed: A Study in Statecraft. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1997.

Index

Adenauer, Konrad: Gaullism of, 36–40; rearmament and, 30, 31; Westpolitik of, 23–28, 33–35, 124–125 Afghanistan, Soviet invasion of, 57 Afghanistan war of 2001, 147, 194–203; German debate on participation in, 198–203; Operation Enduring Freedom in, 207; RedGreen coalition government and, 197–199, 201–202; Russia and, 186; as threat to Germany, 193 Amsterdam treaties, 127, 129–130 Anti-Ballistic Missile Treaty, repudiation of, 188–189 Atlantic alliance: German membership in, 21; and terrorist attacks on U.S., 194. See also U.S.-German relations Atlanticism, 37–42, 61, 116; and antimilitarist norms, 37; and East bloc strategy, 41–42; and FrancoGerman relations, 37, 71–72 Austria, German unification and, 91 Bad Godesberg program, 34 Bahr, Egon, 42, 43, 85–86, 94, 147, 155, 162, 170, 205 Baker, James, 148 Balkan conflicts. See Bosnian civil

war; Kosovo conflict; Macedonia conflict; Serbo-Croatian conflict Ball, George, 40 Barzel, Rainer, 45 Basic Treaty (GDR-FRG), 44 Beer, Angelika, 166, 170 Berlin: division of, 23; East German protests in, 31; as new capital, 1–2, 103; and Soviet domination, 35–36 Berlin Wall, significance of, 35–36 Blair, Tony, 207 Border disputes, 44, 129–130 Bosnian civil war, 161–167; Dayton accords, 165, 166; German humanitarian and diplomatic role in, 162–163; German military role in, 163, 165–166; humanitarian crisis and atrocities in, 161–165; NATO involvement in, 163–166; UN peacekeepers in, 161–164 Brandt, Willy, 34–36, 41, 42, 85–86, 153–154; Ostpolitik of, 43–47, 104–105 Bretton Woods system, collapse of, 63–64 Brezhnev, Leonid, 69 Britain, 22; European Community expenses and, 64, 66–67, 112, 116; European Community membership of, 40; Falklands war and, 70;

251

252

INDEX

German rearmament and, 28, 29 Bruns, Wilhelm, 63 Brussels Treaty, 29 Bundesbank: EMU and, 117, 120– 122, 124, 125; tight monetary policies of, 116, 117 Bundestag, 187, 194–196, 201, 206, 217; and military engagement, 166, 191 Bundeswehr (federal army); Bosnian mission (IFOR) of, 165–166; creation of, 29–30, 32; size of, 148; streamlining of, 147, 190–192, 224; universal conscription in, 31, 191. See also Military, German Bundy, McGeorge, 39 Bush, George H. W.: German reunification and, 98, 100–101, 224; Gulf War and, 149–150; Gorbachev and, 88 Bush, George W., vii, 3, 6–7; Iraqi policy of, 184; national missile defense plans of, 188–189; Schröder and, 183–184, 188–192, 206–207, 224; unilateralism of, 188–190, 205

CAP. See Common Agricultural Policy Carter, Jimmy, 64, 163; nuclear weapons policy of, 56–58 CDU. See Christian Democratic Union Central Europe (Mitteleuropa) strategy, 7 CFSP. See Common Foreign and Security Policy Chirac, Jacques, 130, 204; CAP and, 127; EU constitutional reform and, 135 Christian Democratic Union (CDU), 24, 32–35, 37, 43, 55, 60, 62, 69, 128, 189, 196, 206; Afghanistan war (U.S.) and, 197–199, 202; Atlanticism of, 40; coalition government of, 23; and détente with the East, 87; EMU and, 124, 125;

European expansion and, 134; Grand Coalition of, 41; Hallstein doctrine and, 41–43; military and, 150–153, 155, 156, 158, 160, 171–174; Ostpolitik and, 44–45, 47–48, 63, 84; reunification and, 93–94, 98–99 Christian Social Union (CSU), 25, 33, 37, 60, 122, 130, 206; Afghanistan war (U.S.) and, 197–199, 201; Grand Coalition of, 41; Hallstein doctrine and, 41–43; military actions and, 151–153, 157, 160, 172–174; Ostpolitik and, 44–45 Civilian power (Zivilmacht), Germany’s status as, 6, 7, 9 CJTF. See Combined Joint Task Force Claus, Roland, 200 Clay, Lucius, 22, 23 Cold War: and Allies’ German policies, 21–29; militarization of, 30; and Western values, 222 Combined Joint Task Force (CJTF), creation of, 132–133 Committee of Permanent Representatives (COREPER), 113 Common Agricultural Policy (CAP), 33, 64, 113, 114, 127; and Eastern bloc states, 135 Common Foreign and Security Policy (CFSP), 119, 131–134; EPC and, 131; NATO and, 131–133; WEU and, 132–134 Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe (CSCE), 44 Council of Ministers (EC), 112–113, 128, 130, 131, 135; weighting of votes in, 130 Crimes against humanity, ICC and, 190 CSCE. See Helsinki agreement CSU. See Christian Social Union Däubler-Gmelin, Herta, 3, 206 De Gaulle, Charles, 26–27, 46, 81; European integration and, 113; Europe des patries, 66, 112, 224;

INDEX

principles of European cooperation and, 37 De Maziere, Lothar, 101 Domestic policy, elite strategies in, 14–15 Dregger, Alfred, 63 Duisenberg, Wim, 124

Eastern European states: collapse of communism in, 99; European Union ascension of, 134–135; missile controversy and, 55–63; NATO enlargement and, 186–187; Soviet postwar control of, 23; West German hardline strategy toward, 41–42. See also Ostpolitik East Germany: and border disputes with Poland, 44; and cultural unity with West Germany, 44–45, 105; economy of, 89, 100, 101; and Gorbachev reforms, 84–85, 90–91; Hallstein doctrine and, 41–42; importance of Berlin to, 35–36; Kohl government and, 62; Ostpolitik and, 42–47, 79; “Sinatra doctrine” and, 90–91; as sovereign state, 89 EC. See European Community ECB. See European Central Bank ECSC. See European Coal and Steel Community Economy, German: post–World War II, 26–27, 31, 32; social market, 26, 104 Economy, world: globalization and, 12; Soviet versus the West, 79 EDC. See European Defense Community Eisenhower, Dwight, 29, 36, 39 Elysée Treaty, 83, 137 EMS. See European Monetary System EMU. See European monetary union EPC. See European Political Cooperation Eppler, Erhard, 170 Erhard, Ludwig, 26, 35, 37, 39, 40, 46 Erler, Fritz, 34, 35, 44

253

ESDI. See European Security and Defense Identity EU. See European Union Eurocorps, 132 European Central Bank (ECB), 119, 124 European Coal and Steel Community (ECSC), 26–27; tariffs and, 33 European Commission, 112 European Community (EC): budgetary problems of, 66–67; collapse of Bretton Woods system and, 63–64; common agricultural policy of, 64, 113, 114; common foreign and security policy and, 119, 131–134; creation of, 32–33; Falklands war and, 70; and Germany’s national interests, 72–73; governing structure of, 112–114; monetary union (EMU) of, 64–66, 112, 116–126; single market project of, 67, 115; supranationalism versus intergovernmentalism in, 65–66 European Council, 112–115 European Court of Justice (ECJ), 113 European Defense Community (EDC), 28–29 European integration: costs of, 119–121; differentiated, 134; German approaches to, 115–116; German national interest and, 33–34, 65–66; German political culture and, 125–126; German unification and, 117–120; and market liberalization, 115; neofunctionalist theory of, 113–114; political union in, 118; pro-business model of, 114–115; Werner plan for, 47. See also European Community; European Union European Monetary System (EMS), 64–65, 112–114, 119; ERM in, 65, 117, 121 European monetary union (EMU), 116–126; economic criteria and

254

INDEX

implementation of, 119–121, 126; German party politics and, 121– 124 European Parliament, 113; authority of, 127–128; Spinelli initiative and, 115 European Political Cooperation (EPC), 70, 72, 131 European security, U.S. guarantee of, 80 European Security and Defense Identity (ESDI), 132, 133 European Union (EU), 111; bilateral treaties in, 190; border laws, 129–130; budget, 127, 137; CAP of, 127, 135; complex interdependence of, 227–228; constitution, 135–136; crime control and, 130; domestic issues and, 139; East European states’ agreements with, 134–135; eastward expansion of, 223, 224; fall of Communism and, 120; Germany’s budget contributions to, 137; incorporation of WEU into, 133; institutional reform in, 127–128, 135–136; internal security initiatives of, 130; neorealist perspective on, 138; political union in, 126–130, 136; as postmodern polity, 226; Russian stability and, 184; subsidiarity and, 128–129, 228; three “pillars” of, 118–119; treaty of, 118, 120; and U.S. doctrine of preventative war, 208; voting in, 130–131; widening versus deepening of, 134–137; Yugoslav republics and, 158–159, 161

Falklands/Malvinas war, 70 FDP. See Free Democratic Party Fischer, Joschka, 125, 136, 148, 164, 165, 168, 169, 176, 207; Afghanistan war position of, 201; and terrorist attacks on U.S., 193–195 Foreign policy, European. See

Common Foreign and Security Policy Foreign policy, German: antimilitarism norms in, 197–198, 218, 219; Atlanticism in, 37–42; Balkans conflict and, 155–175; based on common (Western) values, 72–73, 218, 221–222; consistency in, 15; defense spending and planning in, 190–192; demilitarization and de-Nazification of, 21; domestic interests and, 8, 14–15; double consensus in, 20–22, 47–49, 218–219; of expansion and conflict, 219–220; and fears of German aggressiveness, 3–5, 8, 136, 159; Gaullism in, 36–38; Gulf War and, 149–155; historical identity and, 219–221; militarization and, 148, 159–160; missile controversy and, 55–63; nationalist ideology in, 220; post–Cold War security and, 147–177; power politics and, 4, 7–9, 39; predictions on, 223–225; primacy of economics in, 39; Sonderweg (special path) strategy in, 3, 155, 171; Soviet security interests and, 80–83; use of soft power in, 2, 115, 136, 139. See also Franco-German relations; Ostpolitik; Russian-German relations; Soviet-German relations; U.S.-German relations; Westpolitik France, EC membership of, 33. See also De Gaulle, Charles; Mitterand, François Franco-German brigade, 101 Franco-German Commission for Defense and Security, 82 Franco-German Defense and Security Council, 82–83 Franco-German Friendship Treaty, 37, 38, 40 Franco-German relations, 137; Adenauer–De Gaulle rapprochement and, 37–38; Atlantic alliance

INDEX

and, 71–72; border policies in, 129; CFSP and, 132; Common Agricultural Program and, 135; economic cooperation in, 63–68; EDC and, 28–29; EU institutional development and, 221–222; European integration and, 26–27, 114–118; EU third pillar issues and, 129–130; foreign policy congruence in, 69; German rearmament and, 28–29; German reunification and, 97–98; intergovernmental approach in, 113; Kecker Spatz/Moineau Hardi (Bold Sparrow) joint maneuver, 82; missile deployment controversy and, 71; monetary policies in, 113, 115–117, 124, 126; NATO and, 82, 83; security/military cooperation in, 68–72, 81–83 Free Democratic Party (FDP), 37, 56, 59, 206; German military and, 154, 171; and U.S. war in Afghanistan, 202 French Communist Party (PCF), 114

Gansel, Norbert, 157–158 Gaullism, 37–41, 71–72; Adenauer–De Gaulle rapprochement and, 37–38; Atlantic alliance and, 38, 71–72 Genocide, military action and, 148, 164, 173 Genscher, Hans Dietrich, 62, 81, 84, 97, 185; Balkans conflict and, 156–159; Gaullism and, 37; Gulf War and, 154 German antimilitarist norms, 41, 55, 172–173, 224; Afghanistan war and, 197–198; Atlanticism and, 37; rearmament and, 30–32 German Federation of Unions (DGB), 60 German model (Modell Deutschland), 56, 66, 224 German Peace Society for Opponents of War, 22

255

German political culture: and European integration, 125–126; prointegration and multilateral tendency in, 137 “German Way, the,” 2–9 Germany Plan (Deutschlandplan), 34 Giscard d’Estaing, Valery: EMU and, 64–66, 113; European constitution and, 135–136 Globalization: defined, 11–12; and European integration, 64; interdependency and, 12, 227–228; and post-international politics, 225–226; and post-sovereign identity, 12–13; and value fulfillment, 229–230 Glos, Michael, 201 Gorbachev, Mikhail, 83–88, 115; East-West détente of, 86–88, 90, 94; economic restructuring (perestroika) of, 88, 89; and intraGerman relations, 89, 90; Ostpolitik and, 78; policy style of, 78–79; and Reykjavik agreement with Reagan, 79–80; West Germans’ reception of, 86–87 Green Party, 206; Balkans conflicts and, 161–162, 164–166, 168–170, 172, 175; EMU and, 125; formation and agenda of, 55, 58, 59; and terrorist attacks on U.S., 193–202; and use of military force, 147, 164, 165, 169–170, 172, 173, 175 Gromyko, Andrei, 78 Gulf War: German support for, 150–152, 154; Holocaust and, 153; Kohl’s policy toward, 149–150, 154; peace movement and, 150, 152–155 Habermas, Jürgen, 165 Hallstein doctrine, 41–42 Heinemann, Gustav, 30 Helsinki (CSCE) agreement, 44, 102 Herzinger, Richard, 205 Herzog, Roman, 134

256

INDEX

Hitler, Adolf, 19, 150, 153, 155, 164, 220, 222 Hobbes, Thomas, 205 Honecker, Erich, 62, 63, 69, 84, 89, 91, 93, 95 Human rights atrocities: Helsinki accords and, 44; ICC and, 190; and military use of force, 148–152, 156, 159–162, 164–167, 169, 171–173, 176, 198, 222; as primary foreign policy value, 225 Hungary, German unification and, 91, 93–95 Hussein, Saddam, 150–154, 204

INF. See Intermediate Nuclear Forces Interdependency: globalization and, 12; in multilateral approach, 10–11 Intermediate Nuclear Forces (INF) agreement, 80, 85, 87, 88 International agreements, Germany’s efforts to expand, 225 International conflict: German humanitarian and diplomatic role in, 162–163, 165–166; German policy adaptation to, 148–149 International Criminal Court (ICC), 190 International law, Iraqi controversy and, 204 International relations theory: embedded liberalism in, 73; and intra-EU relations, 138–139; liberal-institutionalist, 5–7; realism in, 4–5 Iraq, U.S. plans for war in, 3, 148, 184, 190, 203–208, 223

Jenkins, Roy, 64 Johnson, Lyndon, 43 Justice and Home Affairs policy (EU), 119, 129 Kaiser, Jakob, 25 Kennan, George, 22, 34 Kennedy, John H., 36 Khrushchev, Nikita, 36 Kiesinger, Kurt, 41–43, 45

Kinkel, Klaus, 163, 165 Kissinger, Henry, 47 KLA. See Kosovo Liberation Army Kohl, Helmut, 46, 78–79, 80, 82, 197; Bosnian civil war and, 162–163; EC and, 66, 67, 139; European integration and, 115, 116, 118, 120, 122–126; Gorbachev and, 83–84; Gulf War and, 149–152, 154; missile controversy and, 60–62, 87–88; NATO enlargement and, 187; nuclear arms control and, 80; Ostpolitik of, 61–62; reunification and, 92–94, 97–102; Russian policy of, 184; SerboCroatian conflict and, 157–159; Western integration and, 125. See also Christian Democratic Union Korean War, rearmament and, 28, 30 Kosovo conflict, 167–174, 176; atrocities and ethnic cleansing in, 167–168, 170–173; German military presence in, 168, 171; German public opinion on, 171, 173–174; history of Serb-Albanian disputes in, 167; NATO’s involvement in, 168–174; peace plan, 170 Kosovo Liberation Army (KLA), 167–168, 174 Krenz, Egon, 99 Kyoto treaty, Bush administration and, 189–190

Labor movement, missile controversy and, 60 Lafontaine, Oskar, 59, 123, 170 Liberal-institutionalist theory, 5–7 Liberal utilitarian theory, 8, 138–139 Luther, Martin, 89 Maastricht treaty. See Treaty of European Union Macedonia conflict: Germany’s involvement in, 174–175; NATO action in, 174–175; UN Operation Amber Fox in, 175 Marshall Plan, 23, 26

INDEX

Military, German: European defense and, 28–29, 133–134; German antimilitarism and, 30–32, 37, 41, 55, 172–173, 222; human rights protection and, 148–152, 159–160, 166–167, 169, 171–173, 176, 220; multilateral actions of, 147–149, 154, 156, 159–160, 163, 165–166, 168, 171, 174–176; NATO and, 4, 29–32, 39, 147, 154, 173; peacekeeping role of, 155, 160–161, 164, 166, 168, 173, 191; policy, contemporary changes in, 15; potential world role for, 147; rationale for use of force in, 210; rearmament and, 24, 28–31. See also Bundeswehr Milosevic, Slobodan, 165, 167, 168, 173 Missile-modernization crisis, 55–63, 71; Carter doctrine and, 57; dual track decision on, 56–60; peace movement and, 60–61 Mitteleuropa confederation concept, 58 Mitterand, François, 67, 80, 126; economic reform policy of, 114–115; and EU politics, 139; and European unification, 115–118, 120; and Franco-German relations, 65, 69–70, 82–83; German reunification and, 97–98, 100, 101, 221 MLF. See Multilateral nuclear force Modrow, Hans, 99 Momper, Walter, 89, 96 Monnet, Jean, 26–27, 66 Morgenthau, Henry, 22 Moscow treaty, 43–45 Müller, Kerstin, 199–200 Multilateral institutionalized cooperation, 3–4, 6–8; domestic interests and, 139; as foreign policy ideal, 14–15; militarism and, 222–223; national interests and, 5, 10, 66; policy limits of, 10; as tactic, 25; Western norms and, 221–222

257

Multilateral nuclear force (MLF), 39–40 Mutual and Balanced Force Reduction talks (MBFR, Vienna), 92

Nassau agreement (U.S.-UK), 39– 40 National identity: historical identity and, 219–221; Kantian identity and, 10, 17n33, 139–140, 229. See also Post-sovereign foreign policy identity National interests, German promotion of, 39, 73, 136–138 NATO. See North Atlantic Treaty Organization Nazism, 24; aftermath of, 20–21; and German political culture, 19 Nemeth, Miklos, 94 Neoliberal institutionalism, EU and, 138 New Social Democrats, 59 Nice treaties, 127, 129–131 Nixon, Richard, 45 Nonstate actors, power of, 5–6 North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO), 80–82, 88, 118; in Bosnian civil war, 163–166; CJTF, 132–133, 191; Cold War and, 68–70; dual-track missile deployment and, 55–58; eastward expansion of, 223, 224; European Cooperation network and, 70, 72; expansion, Russia and, 184; Falklands/Malvinas war and, 70; formation of, 29; German acceptance of, 147, 148, 152, 154; German military and, 29–32, 39; German public support for, 62; in Kosovo conflict, 168–174; in Macedonia (Operation Essential Harvest), 174–175; Nassau agreement and, 39–40; OstpolitikWestpolitik double consensus and, 48; and stability in Eastern Europe, 186–187; terrorist attacks on U.S.

258

INDEX

and, 192–193; U.S. leadership of, 133; WEU and, 71, 132–133 Nuclear weapons: doctrine of mutually assured destruction, 81; European missile deployment and, 55–63; INF agreement, 80; MBFR talks, 92; MLF proposal, 39–40; nonproliferation treaty, 46; SDI, 80–81; short-range missile modernization, 87–88; superpower parity and, 38; U.S. national missile defense debate, 188–189

Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE), 148, 162, 171 Ostpolitik, 2, 41–47, 104–105; Christian Democrats and, 44–45, 47–48, 63; consensus on, 45–47; and Germany’s Western identity, 43; Gorbachev and, 78; missile controversy and, 55–63; success of, 43; and U.S. détente, 43; and Western integration, 46–47

Party of Democratic Socialism (PDS), 123–124, 166, 187, 206; and Afghanistan war (U.S.), 193–194, 200–201; and use of military force, 155, 172, 173, 175 Peace movement, 22; Bosnian civil war and, 164–165; German nationalism and, 71; Gorbachev and, 79; Gulf War and, 150, 152–155; missile modernization plan and, 58, 60–61, 63; post-unification military and, 4 Pleven, René, 28 Pöhl, Karl Otto, 101 Poland: and European Union ascension, 135; fall of communism in, 93; and German border expansion, 44, 100; Solidarity movement in, 69 Political culture, German, 2, 8, 14; Nazism and, 19; pacifistic trends

in, 21–22; postwar re-education and, 21; World War II and, 19 Political parties: dominant position of, 14; Gaullism and, 37; Grand Coalition in, 41; nationalism in, 35; neo-Nazi, 41, 92; social-liberal coalition in, 43 Post-sovereign foreign policy identity, 9–16, 73–74, 104, 118, 139–140; cultural/political norms in, 8, 14; and Franco-German relations, 83; globalization and, 12–13; military and, 176–177; morality and ethics in, 11; multilateralism and institutional cooperation in, 3–4, 6–11, 48–49, 61, 63, 68, 72–74, 156, 159; national interests and, 10, 15; party positions and, 14; and postinternational politics, 226; regionalism in, 7; as semisovereign interdependent state, 7–8; “soft power” in, 68, 73; systemic change and, 8; unification and, 77–78 Powell, Colin, 207 Public Transportation Union (ÖTV), 60 Putin, Vladimir, 185–186, 207

Quadripartite agreement, 44

Rapacki, Adam, 34 Rau, Johannes, 207 Reagan, Ronald, 69, 70; Gorbachev and, 79–80, 84, 88; nuclear weapons policy of, 57–59, 61–62; SDI of, 80–81 Realism: interdependence paradigm and, 6–7; as predictor of German policy, 4–8; in study of EU, 138 Rearmament, 24, 28–29; antimilitarism and, 30–32; unification and, 30, 31; Western integration and, 32 Reichstag, symbolic wrapping of, 1–2, 230–231 Republikaner Party, 123 Rice, Condoleezza, 189 Rome treaties, 32, 112

INDEX

Roth, Claudia, 161–162, 194 Rühe, Volker, 154–156, 158, 174, 189, 193 Rumsfeld, Donald, 195, 207, 208 Rusk, Dean, 39 Russia: Anti-Ballistic Missile Treaty and, 188–189; EU and, 184, 186; post-sovereign norms and, 187 Russian-German relations, 22, 184–187; Bosnian conflict and, 163; cultural exchanges in, 186; economic issues in, 185; and EUNATO eastward expansion, 223, 224; Friendship Treaty and calls for partnership in, 185–186; German model and, 226; Kosovo conflict and, 169, 170; security threat and, 185 Rust, Mathias, 85

Saarland region, and Franco-German relations, 28 Schabowski, Günter, 95–96 Scharping, Rudolf, 186, 193, 194 Schäuble, Wolfgang, 171, 172 Schengen Treaty, 129 Schmidt, Helmut, 114, 187, 196–197; EMU and, 64–66, 117; intergovernmental approach of, 113; Iraq debate and, 205; missile policy of, 55–59; Modell Deutschland of, 56, 66; Ostpolitik of, 47, 55, 56, 58– 60, 69; and superpower détente, 47 Schröder, Gerhard, vii, 2, 58, 130, 152, 169, 173, 187, 196, 197, 208; Afghanistan war and, 198–203; Balkans conflicts and, 168, 170, 171, 176; Bush administration and, 183–184, 188–192, 206–208; CAP and, 127; CFSP and, 133; EMU and, 122, 123; EU institutional reforms and, 135–137; German national interests and, 148; “German Way” slogan, 3–9, 204; Iraq war position of, 3, 204–206; Kosovo conflict and, 168, 170, 171; Russia policy of, 184;

259

Western integration and, 125; Western solidarity and, 147, 175–176 Schumacher, Kurt, 24–29, 44, 171 Schuman, Robert, 26–28 SDI. See Strategic Defense Initiative SEA. See Single European Act SED. See Socialist Unity Party September 2001 terrorist attacks, 12–13, 130, 147, 192–198; and German pledge of solidarity, 192–194; and U.S.-German relations, 192–193; U.S. military response to, 194 Serbo-Croatian conflict, 155–160; and European recognition of Croatia and Slovenia, 158–159; and Germany’s pro-Croatia and anti-Serb attitude, 155, 157–158; human rights and self-determination issues in, 159–160 Shevardnadze, Eduard, 90–91, 102 Siberian pipeline project, 69–70 Single European Act (SEA), 111, 115–116, 120, 129 Social Democratic Party (SPD), 3, 27–28, 43, 57–58, 88, 104, 135, 206; Afghanistan war (U.S.) and, 195–198; East Germany and, 42; European integration and, 33; Grand Coalition of, 41, 42; military use of force and, 151–153, 155–158, 160, 163, 165, 170–173, 175; missile controversy and, 55, 59; monetary union and, 121–123; Ostpolitik and, 42–47; rearmament and, 29, 30, 32; ruling coalitions of, 56; Soviet strategy and, 78–79; terrorist attacks on U.S. and, 193–194; Western integration and, 24, 25, 27, 34–36, 63 Socialist Party (France), 114 Socialist Unity Party (SED), reunification and, 89–91, 93–94 Socialist Youth, 58 Social market economy, 26, 104 Solana, Javier, 132, 133

260

INDEX

Somalia, German military involvement in, 160–162 Sovereignty, 102; German, 23, 25, 32; postmodern notion of, 6; and selfinterest, 222; and subsidiarity concept, 128–129, 228–229; and systemic change, 8–9 Soviet-German relations, 83–85, 105; Berlin and, 23, 35–36; détente in, 86; economic and political links in, 85–86, 88; German unification and, 78; intra-German détente and, 79; Ostpolitik and, 43–44 Soviet Union: Afghanistan invasion of, 57; economy of, 79; missile modernization of, 55, 56, 58–59. See also Gorbachev, Mikhail Soviet-U.S. relations: “Cold War II” phase of, 69–70; GorbachevReagan arms control agreement, 79–80; nuclear balance of power in, 38, 56–59, 61–62 SPD. See Social Democratic Party Spiegel affair, 37, 47 Stalin, Joseph, 23, 27–28, 35 Stoiber, Edmund, 122, 130, 172, 204–206 Strategic Defense Initiative (SDI), 80–81 Strauss, Franz Josef, 37, 40, 62, 85 Struck, Peter, 207 Subsidiarity, concept of, 128, 228–229

Terrorism: globalization and, 12–13; NATO treaty and, 192–193. See also September 2001 terrorist attacks TEU. See Treaty of European Union Thatcher, Margaret, 64, 66–67, 70, 112, 115, 117–118; EMU and, 117; German reunification and, 97–98, 100, 101, 221; short-range missile modernization and, 87–88 Thierse, Wolfgang, 185 Tietmeyer, Hans, 122 Tito, Josef, 167

Trade, and European integration, 33 Treaty of European Union (TEU; Maastricht treaty), 65, 111, 118–120, 134; concept of subsidiarity in, 128; Danish referendums on, 120; foreign policy cooperation and, 131, 132 Trichet, Jean Claude, 124 Truman Doctrine, 22–23

Unification, 89–103; AustrianHungarian border opening and, 91; collapse of East German Republic and, 89, 92–97; costs of, 121; economic factor in, 100, 101; foreign policy style and, 77–78; German reactions to, 96–97; Gorbachev’s role in, 86–88, 90, 94, 97, 99–102; historical identity and, 221; mass protests and, 95; move of capital to Berlin and, 103; NATO membership and, 98–102; Ostpolitik and, 43–44; rearmament and, 30, 31; treaty, 102; U.S. support for, 98–101; Western integration and, 26 United Nations, 44; Bosnia mission of, 161–164; Convention Relating to the Status of Refugees, 91; George W. Bush administration and, 188; missions, German participation in, 155, 159–160, 165–166 United States: traditional sovereignty of, 220; unilateral policies of, 81, 188–190, 205, 209, 223. See also Soviet-U.S. relations U.S.-German relations, 71–72, 187–203; Afghanistan war and, 193, 198–203; anti-American backlash in, 224; antimilitarist norms and, 37; Berlin division and, 35; Cold War conflicts and, 55–63, 68–70; cooperation and friendship in, 103, 188; defense spending and, 190–192; future of, 224; George W. Bush administration and, 183–184, 188–192,

INDEX

206–207, 224; German unification and, 43; Gulf War and, 149–150; Iraq controversy of 2002 and, 3, 184, 190, 203–208; nuclear policy and, 39–40, 80–81; Ostpolitik and, 43; policy principles and style differences in, 183–184, 209–211, 224; post–World War II, 22–23, 28, 35–36; rearmament and, 29; September 2001 terrorist attacks and, 190–193; solidarity and, 22–23, 223; Western alliance principles and, 222 Utilitarian liberal theory, 8; and EU policy, 138–139

Vogel, Hans-Jochen, 94, 152 Voig, Karsten, 156

War crimes, ICC and, 190 Warsaw Pact countries: force reductions in, 86; missile deployment and, 57 Wehner, Herbert, 34, 35, 58 Weizsäcker, Richard von, 85 Welteke, Ernst, 124 Western alliance: and German neutrality, 38; Germany’s membership

261

in, 61; Ostpolitik and, 48; postwar origins of, 29 Western values, 72–73, 218, 221–222; German alignment with, 33–34, 72, 104, 152, 160; Germany national interest and, 5, 33–34, 72; transition to post-international politics and, 230 West European Union (WEU), 29, 71; CJTF and, 132–133; military operations and, 132; NATO and, 132 West Germany: and cultural unity with East Germany, 44–45; formation of German Federal Republic, 23; Hallstein doctrine of, 41–42; MLF proposal and, 39–40 Westpolitik, 2, 22–41, 62, 104, 137; consensus on, 34–41; magnet theory of, 26; rearmament and, 32; unification and, 26 WEU. See West European Union Wilson, Harold, 40 World War II, and German political culture, 19

Yugoslavia, and European Common Foreign and Security Policy, 132, 133

About the Book

would be unable to adapt easily to the postunification, post–Cold War environment, it has in fact remained effective, even as it evolves in response to myriad challenges. Scott Erb analyzes German policy, with an emphasis on the transitions from 1980 to the present. Erb argues that Germany’s success in dealing with a rapidly changing world rests on principles of multilateralism and cooperative institution-building developed during the Cold War. These principles are especially well suited now, he finds, as interdependence and turbulence bring traditional notions of sovereignty and self-interest into question. Germany, he concludes, offers a sound model of foreign policy in an age of globalization. DESPITE AN ARRAY OF PREDICTIONS THAT GERMANY’S FOREIGN POLICY

Scott Erb is associate professor of political science and chair of the International Studies Program at the University of Maine at Farmington.

262