Little Men, What Now?

A harassed, cramped and bothered existence is that of the western half of Berlin, encircled outpost of freedom. One in three of its 2,200,000 inhabitants works on some kind of government relief. "We plant flowers, instead of constructing buildings as they do in West Germany," said a relief worker last week. All roads into West Berlin are blocked except two strictly controlled highways, and the city is ringed by the rifled steel of East German Volkspolizei and divisions of the Red army. Each day precisely 13 freight trains, 17 barges and 500 automobile trucks loaded with food, fuel and raw materials for West Berlin stomachs and factories are allowed to enter from West Germany. To keep West Berlin alive, the West German government allots a special stipend ($213,857,142 this year).

A dubious compensation enjoyed by West Berliners is the knowledge that conditions in Communist-controlled East Germany are worse. East Berliners who work in Communist government offices sign an undertaking not to enter West Berlin, but others manage short visits. "Whenever we have the time, my wife and I take a quick stroll across the border to look at all the nice cars, dresses, shoes and good food on display," said an East German mechanic last week. "If I could not do this, I would flee."

Epidemic Pessimism. Actually, some 500 refugees cross permanently into West Berlin every day, and East German pessimism is epidemic. Said a West Berlin businessman: "Every time our relatives come over to this side, they have a gloomy story to tell. We try to cheer them up, but when they return to East Berlin, they take away a little of our optimism. Some day our spirits will be as low as theirs." Said a West Berlin worker: "The only thing that can save us is reunification."

To give Berliners a lift, and show that they are not forgotten, Bonn decided last May to send them West Germany's most cherished possession: the Bundestag (Lower House of Parliament). It was reckoned that a meeting in Berlin of the democratically elected Bundestag would throw a massive challenge at Soviet despotism and its stooge East German government. Last week West Berlin got the Bundestag--its first look at a democratic Parliament in 22 years--but the effect was less than expected.

When some Deputies arrived from Helmstedt, only a few officials were there to say welcome. Some crowds gaped as one $5,000 Mercedes-Benz after another whisked Deputies around the city, while their expensively furred wives went to eat cake and whipped cream in coffeehouses along the fashionable Kurfuerstendamm. But a Berlin newspaper remarked tartly, when well-fed Deputies had difficulty squeezing into the student-size seats in the Technological Institute auditorium, temporary home for the Bundestag: "These benches weren't made to accommodate representatives of the West German economic miracle."

The subject chosen for debate was rotund Economic Affairs Minister Ludwig Erhard's program to control West Germany's economic boom and accompanying wage-price spiral. The debate took the form of a few unctuous commonplaces. Said one of the 150 West Berliners in the audience: "They come to us up here and squabble about their own wealth."

For Future Use. West Berlin's disenchanted mood was due in great part to the fact that none of the "Geneva spirit" has warmed Berlin; in fact, Adenauer's visit to Moscow and the resultant emphasis on "two Germanys" seemed to Berliners to put reunification even farther in the distance. "It was nice of the Bundestag to visit us," said a West Berliner. "But what can they do for us?"

The West German government, however, did not give in to discouragement. "We are going to have more of this, and soon Berliners will feel like citizens again," said a spokesman. Workmen at the Technological Institute carefully stored away the Bundestag president's desk and the speaker's rostrum for future use.

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