Transcript of a handwritten text

I was able to end a day that I was very afraid of with the lines of the above song. A feeling of solidarity, sublimity and cheerful courage had spread through me.

It was 9 October 1989 and the escalation of weeks of popular protests into violence was expected. On the day before the 40th anniversary of the GDR, the BKL combat group had been given the opportunity to publish an open declaration of war by force of arms in the newspaper. Great consternation spread. I expressed my protest and dismay in a letter to the editor-in-chief of the LVZ, knowing full well that my unknown voice would probably not be heard. On the evening of 7 October, I saw pictures on West German television of demonstrations in the GDR that had been violently crushed. I was stunned by the inhumanity of those in power. On Monday, too, they tried to intimidate the population by allegedly writing to readers in the newspapers.

I went into the city centre with fear and tension. A defiant feeling and the hope of understanding in me. In addition to St Nicholas’ Church, prayers for peace were held in St Thomas’ Church, St Michael’s Church and the Reformed Church. The Nikolaikirche was already full at 3.00 pm, so I went to the Thomaskirche at 4.15 pm. The seats filled up with great discipline. At 4.30 pm the church was full and those seeking admission were directed to the other churches. A great calm spread. Expectation. At around 5.00 pm, Bishop Hempel spoke. He wanted to speak in all the churches and called on those present to be reasonable and non-violent. As it turned out, everyone was willing to do so. This was followed by an ecumenical service. Provost Hanisch from the Catholic Church and Superintendent Richter from St Thomas’ Church addressed the worshippers with powerful words. The feeling of solidarity caused the approximately 2,000 participants to remain silent and sing together holding hands. No aggression or statements. Deep togetherness between active Christians and compassionate citizens. The organ playing by Almut Reuter sent shivers down my spine. It was an important experience for me and gave me courage. Despite the mass exodus, so many people had come together to pray and confess for this here and now.

The emotion grew, you could have dropped a pin on the floor. Then it was announced that an appeal by Gewandhaus conductor Kurt Masur in conjunction with cabaret artist Bernd-Lutz Lange, pastor Prof Zimmermann and the secretaries of the SED Leipzig district leadership Pommert, Wölzel and Meyer would be announced on Leipzig radio at 6.00 pm. This was met with applause. We immediately regretted that we would certainly not be able to hear these sentences, as nobody would be at home by 6.00 pm. At the end, those attending the service were urged to leave the city centre via the Gottschedstraße exit. I couldn’t decide to do this because my solidarity was also with those who, like me, hadn’t found their way into the church in the previous days because they weren’t believers and didn’t want to be dishonest. So I walked in silence with a friend and countless others towards Grimmaische Straße. Somehow we hoped that a silent stream of people would also come out of St Nicholas’ Church.

The bells rang. But then we heard the chanting. We stood with hundreds of people on Karl-Marx-Platz and waited for the protesters who had gathered in front of the Nikolaikirche. Contrary to the previous Monday, there were no police barriers. The police remained in their police vans, including the dogs. Then a chant swelled. “Join us, join us”. A large crowd came out of Grimmaische Straße towards the main post office. While traffic chaos usually caused additional hustle and bustle, this time the police had closed the entire city centre and the ring road to traffic.

Some of the silent people lined up at the side of the road. The mood was still very subdued and violence was expected at the latest in front of the main railway station, where the march always headed and where the police had erected a barricade on the previous Monday. The fact that women and men of all ages were marching encouraged many to join in. They chanted “Allow new forum!”, “Gorbi, Gorbi”, “Freedom”, “We are the people”, “We are not hooligans”, sang the Internationale and repeatedly shouted “Join us!” Isolated banners read: “We don’t want violence, we want change” and “New Forum.” Thousands of people had united from all parts of the city. They walked the usual 1 May “parade route” past the main post office towards the train station. What everyone had expected did not materialise, no police or riot squads confronted the crowd. So there was a huge march past the railway station, past the “konsument” department stores’, under the bridge and along the ring road to the left past the fire station.

At the State Security building, we were afraid that some demonstrators would act recklessly, but they didn’t. Thousands continued past the New Town Hall, left towards Leuschnerplatz and arrived back at Karl-Marx-Platz after 1 ½ hours, around 8.00 pm. In the meantime, Kurt Masur’s speech had been broadcast several times over the city radio. Among other things, he promised that all signatories would work towards a dialogue with the government and called for calm on all sides. The completely calm, non-aggressive crowd had gathered in front of the loudspeakers and applauded spontaneously. Most of them broke away from the group at Karl-Marx-Platz. A few hundred walked back to the railway station, where they boarded the trams that had arrived. They had placed their candles on the street so that they would burn for a while as a kind of reminder.

There was cheerful exuberance in the tram. Complete strangers were talking about going home together and were totally relaxed. Probably no one had thought of this relaxed atmosphere 5 hours earlier. I was in such a good mood about this victory of common sense that I was still humming the song we had sung together hours later.

It is quite clear that the hardest part is yet to come. The dialogue has to start now, a sign has been set. This day has given me courage.

Susanne Kucharski Leipzig, 9 October 1989