Chilean experiences of exile in the “socialist brotherhood” negotiating solidarity,belonging and change in the German Democratic Republic

Abstract

Based on the empirical material collected in lifetime-narrative interviews, the article illuminates the multiple experiences of Chilean exiles between solidarity, belonging, Othering and foreignness in the German Democratic Republic (GDR). The focus of the biographical case reconstruction based on Rosenthal is the individual negotiation of Othering practices and narratives, which the interview partners rejected, reinterpreted or strategically used for themselves. The results are biographical snapshots which show that not only encounter with (everyday) racism, but also experienced help and solidarity actions could cause discomfort among the Chilean political exiles, since they reflected the hegemonic conditions underlying their stay in the GDR. The interviewees experienced how state-institutionalised solidarity was linked to the political conditions of the Socialist Unity Party of Germany and had its limits where individuals deviated from the behaviour expected of them. Throughout their lives, the interviewees are torn between Chile and the GDR (and later Germany): Confronted with feelings and constructions of foreignness and belonging(s) in relation to both countries they find different and changing ways of dealing with them over the course of their lives. What they have in common is the impossibility of deciding on a single national identity.

Introduction

Refugee movements of today often take place from the “global south” to the “global north”, while during the Cold War, they mainly ran from east to west (Müssemann, 2019). However, stories of people fleeing the opposite way, from West to East, are often neglected: such as those who fled to the GDR. The stories in which “the GDR, a country of departure”, simultaneously became a “receiving country and a place of refuge for people in exile” are little present in the collective memory about the history of the GDR (ibid. 5). In addition to contract workers from Mozambique, Cuba, Algeria, Vietnam, or Angola, whose fates and living conditions in the GDR have fortunately received more attention in the meantime ¹ , so-called “political migrants” also came to the GDR. “Political migrants” was the term used by the Socialist Unity Party of Germany (SED) to describe people who were persecuted in their countries of origin because of their socialist or communist views and who, according to the GDR constitution, could be granted asylum: ²

The German Democratic Republic could grant asylum to citizens of other states or stateless persons if they were persecuted because of political, scientific, or cultural activities in defense of peace, democracy, the interests of the working people, or because of their participation in the social and national liberation struggle (Constitution of the DDR, 1968, Article 23, Paragraph 3, cited after United States-Department of State, 2015).

According to the constitution, the SED was not obliged to accept the politically persecuted, but decided on a case-by-case basis whether to grant them asylum in the GDR or not. The GDR’s solidarity campaigns with liberation movements in the “global south” have already been widely addressed in research (see Emmerling, 2013; Slobodian, 2015). In this article, we are primarily interested in the individual experience of solidarity by Chilean exiles in the GDR, which adds a new, more intimate dimension to the existing literature. Chileans were the largest minority in the GDR, with 2,000 people who had been fleeing the military dictatorship under Augusto Pinochet (Maurin, 2005, p. 346). Since the 2000s, there have been more and more publications on “political migrants” in the GDR. Poutrus (2003, 2005, 2009) writes extensively about the social and political history of the refugee and asylum policy in the GDR up until the 1970s. Focusing on Chileans in particular, Koch (2016) gives a detailed overview on the treatment they received with regards to education and work, including financial support. Both Koch and Maurin (Maurin, 2005) point out the special status and privileges Chilean migrants enjoyed in the GDR, whilst also being instrumentalized for the GDR’s political agenda. Whereas most of the scholarship on Chilean migrants in the GDR uses material from archives, historical documents and GDR sources, the migrants’ own perspectives are underrepresented. Müssemann (2021) has made a refreshing contribution in this field, shedding light on the individual lived experiences of three Chilean women living in the GDR with a focus on political and gender equality and experiences of discrimination. In conclusion, although research on Chileans in the GDR exists, the individual memories and perspectives of contemporary witnesses are underrepresented. Even oral history studies tend to sketch a rather general picture of the realities of life of Chileans in exile (Müssemann, 2019).

Against this background, the article deliberately focuses on the life stories of two Chilean socialists in exile in their “Borderland” (socialist brotherhood), with the aim of doing justice to the individuals, their subjective experiences and lived realities. The article sheds light on the experiences of exile with their “socialist brothers” and the complex processes of identity negotiations between solidarity, belonging and change in the GDR and the transformation process in 1989/90.

Methodological approach – Biographical Case Reconstruction

Following Yuval-Davis (2011), belonging and foreignness can be understood as psychosocial phenomena that are characterized by constant negotiation processes, especially in the context of biographies shaped by migration. They contain an individual dimension in the subjective feeling of “not feeling at home”, which is simultaneously informed and overridden by political and social discourses that constantly recognize and deny belonging(s), create inclusion and exclusion, and “other”. According to Gabriele Rosenthal (2014), biographical interviews are suitable for exploring experiences of belonging through analysing the (narrative structures of the) relationship between the experienced, the remembered and the narrated life. Biographical case reconstruction makes it possible to understand social or psychological phenomena by tracing their genesis within the life story of a person, as well as the historical and social context (Rosenthal, 2014: 178). Rosenthal (2014: 178) emphasises that people construct and understand their lives through storytelling. Assuming that someone’s current life situation re-shapes their interpretation of the past, which memories are selected and how they are represented, the temporal and thematic connections made in the storytelling, and their integration in the life story and retrospective evaluation (Rosenthal, 2014: 180) all provide insights into subjective meanings. At the same time, the narration of past experiences also refers to current experiences and give information about the narrator’s present life (Rosenthal, 2014: 181). The biographical case reconstruction enables us to identify decisive turning points that led to a reinterpretation of past and present (Rosenthal, 2014: 178). But biographical analyses are not only about an autobiographical view, but also about examining attributions and external positioning by other people, as well as the interaction between self-definition and external definition (Rosenthal, 2014: 183). Social, group-specific conventions and discourses determine when, how and in what context something may be narrated (Rosenthal, 2014: 184). It is therefore also important to track down the discourses and illustrate their influence on the narrative; in this sense, biographical analysis is always also a kind of discourse analysis (Rosenthal, 2014: 185). Rosenthal (2014: 185) describes that biographies are individual and social products, because the individual life-story of a person and the collective history, as well as the subjective and collective realities, permeate each other. Life stories are a dynamic and ongoing process that is influenced by various factors such as social, cultural and historical influences (ibid.).

Following Rosenthal's (2014) methodological framework, we invited interviewees in one-on-one interviews to tell their life stories and experiences in a safe environment.

In the interview transcripts we examine the tension between stereotypes they encountered, political solidarity narratives, and the interviewees’ own everyday experience on the one hand. On the other hand, we are interested in the extent to which constructions of belonging and foreignness shaped the identities and biographies of the interviewees between Chile and the GDR. Different constructions of belonging and foreignness were analyzed with regards to the individual life trajectories in their historical context. The analysis took place in an inductive-deductive interplay: First, we sighted the interview material exploratively and identified the concept of “Othering” and the notion of solidarity as promising analytical categories. In a second step, we analyzed the life stories using deductive categories based on the following questions:

(1) How are constructions of foreignness and belonging in exile in the “socialist brotherhood” experienced and negotiated by the Chilean interviewees regarding the historical context of the GDR solidarity movement with Chile?

(2) To what extent did Othering experiences shape the construction of their identity and biography between Chile and the GDR? How did the interviewees take ownership of those narratives?

(3) What emotional processes and identity negotiations have been provoked by the end of the dictatorship in Chile and the end of the GDR? In what ways has the end of the political exile opened new perspectives and sparked a re-orientation in terms of political activism, belonging and identity?

In the article we aim to make audible the “original voices” of these interviewees and to value their experiences, that’s why we decided to use long quotes from the interviews, to make their own thoughts and experiences readable.

Context GDR

Foreign policies: International Solidarity of the GDR

The GDR was clearly politically dependent on its “big brother”, the Soviet Union. At the same time the GDR leadership sought to gain its own state identity and assert its sovereignty internationally, especially against the claims of the Federal Republic of Germany (FRG) (Einax, 2008, p. 163). During the Cold War “international solidarity” became the guiding concept of GDR policy (Lorenz, 2020, p. 37). In contrast to the American way of life and the West’s self-image of representing the Free World, the GDR and other Eastern bloc states promoted the principles of “internationalism” and “solidarity” as “empires of justice” (ibid. 40).

The word “solidarity” originated from Roman law and initially referred to the mutual dependency in which the members of a shared amount of debt find themselves, as one person is liable not only for their own debts but also for those of the others (Große Kracht, 2021, p19). Unlike Christian charity, mercy, or benevolence, “the concept of solidarity signals a relationship at eye level” (Weber, 2019, p. 21). Solidarity also plays a role at the political level in the formation of opposing friend and enemy groupings, where “[i]nternal identity [corresponds] with an externalized antagonist” (ibid. 28). Thus, solidarity “is not natural or unconditional, but conditional, tied to the common goal that the actors share. Solidarity thus becomes fragile; it can collapse at any time when the actors disperse” (ibid. 29). Solidarity therefore exists only as long as there is a common political identification and attachment.

Whereas it used to merely refer to the fact that all people are somehow connected, over time, the concept of solidarity became increasingly morally inscribed and emotionally charged, especially in socialist movements (Große Kracht, 2021, p21). For example, feminist Clara Zetkin called on women to replace family attachment with a sense of solidarity, which, as class consciousness, meant belonging to the proletariat (Pfützner, 2017, p. 170). Wilhelm Liebknecht declared solidarity the “highest cultural and moral concept” whose realization was the task of socialism (Liebknecht, 1874, p15, cited in Weber, 2019, p. 26). Drawing from a Marxist-Leninist tradition of solidarity going back to the 1920s, which meant primarily “class solidarity” (ibid. 37), the SED transformed the concept into the “international solidarity of the working classes of all countries” (ibid.). Walter Ulbricht saw international solidarity as one of the “ten commandments of socialist morality” and therefore as a guiding principle for the “new socialist man” (Ulbricht, 1958 cited in Lorenz, 2020, p. 43). In 1968, the concept of solidarity was then officially incorporated into the GDR constitution as part of socialist internationalism (ibid.: 38), among other things to win over the newly independent states of the “global south” to the “socialist camp” (Einax, 2008, p. 165). An important aspect of this was the acceptance of “political migrants” and the organization of solidarity campaigns for North Vietnam or Chile, within which the “political migrants” were presented to the GDR population as “freedom fighters and objects of their solidarity” (Poutrus, 2005, p. 10).

The relationship between Chile and the GDR

Diplomatic relations had existed between the GDR and Chile since the mid-1960s (Dufner 2016, p. 216). Salvador Allende was elected the country’s first socialist president in 1970 and with his anti-capitalist ideals became the icon of many leftists worldwide who wished that socialism could win (Müssemann, 2019). At the same time, under President Nixon, U.S. intelligence operations were being expanded throughout Latin America since the late 1960s (Hanhimaki, 2004), which also destabilized the Chilean economy (ibid.). The supply situation in Chile became increasingly dramatic (ibid.) and eventually with U.S. support led to the military coup under Augusto Pinochet on September 11, 1973. Hundreds of Allende’s supporters, as well as members of the left-wing parties and trade unions, were killed, while thousands more were imprisoned and tortured in the military’s secret prisons (National Commission for the Study of Political Imprisonment and Torture, 2008). Over the course of the nearly 20 years of dictatorship that followed, in total more than 3,000 people were murdered or are considered disappeared until today (Müssemann, 2019). The GDR decided to accept political refugees from Chile just two weeks after Pinochet’s coup (ibid.), which resulted in thousands of Chileans fleeing there from persecution. However, the granting of exile was not only the result of humanistic motives, but also served the SED leadership to display the GDR on the international stage as an open and solidaric country (Poutrus, 2005).

Results of the biographical interviews

Brief biographical overview of the interviewees

Giulia ³ * ⁴ grew up in Chile as the oldest of four children and was seventeen years old during the coup in 1973. Her father, who had been a senior member of the Socialist Party, was subsequently persecuted and spent a year and a half in various prison camps in Chile. Giulia’s mother worked as a judge and lobbied for his release until she was finally forced to leave the country due to safety concerns. She moved to Romania with the children in April 1975, where they were reunited with their father at the end of July. Two months later, the family accepted an invitation from the SED and migrated to East Berlin, but Giulia’s parents soon had to leave the GDR again due to a rift within Chile’s socialist party. Giulia, who at the time studied forestry, stayed in Germany and worked as a research assistant at the Technical University of Dresden until 1989.

Ernesto* was born in 1959 and grew up in Santiago de Chile with his family. Through his parents, he came into contact with socialist ideas at an early age and after the coup joined a socialist youth association at the age of fifteen. He devoted the following ten years to political work and lived underground in Chile under various identities. When a friend had to cancel his plans at the last minute, Ernesto traveled to the GDR in his place where he began a nine-month training course at the FDJ “Wilhelm Pieck” cadre school in 1984. Because of his political activities, it was not possible for him to return to Chile as initially planned. He ended up staying in the GDR, from where he supported and coordinated the political work of Chilean socialists in Germany and abroad on a full-time basis.

Not all socialism is the same: The discrepancy between expectations and reality of exile in the “socialist brotherhood”

The history of the Chilean exiles in Germany is in a way unique, because there was a solidarity movement for the victims of the Pinochet dictatorship in both the FRG and the GDR. Guilia's parents as well as Ernesto explicitly chose the GDR as a country of exile because it was a socialist country. They had the idea that as a kind of “internally displaced socialist” they would find support among their “socialist brothers” in the GDR. This expectation was fed by the discourses of the SED, which in their narratives constructed a common socialist identity with the concept of class solidarity, of GDR citizens and “political migrants”. This conviction was shared by many political migrants and was decisive for the choice of the country of exile, as Giulia's story shows:

My mother was a persona non grata, she was no longer safe in Chile. Her husband was in a prison camp and she had us four children, and that's when she decided: We have to leave. She applied for a visa in several countries and got a visa for the five of us in Romania. Then we visited our father in the camp, and the following week we took an airplane with a suitcase each. [...] My mother thought we'd best come to a socialist country, that they would help us there. She also had received a visa for England, but said to herself: 'I can't let my children grow up in a capitalist country like that'. (Interviewee CF1)

However, only those Chileans who were politically close to the SED and considered ideologically “reliable” were welcome in the GDR (Müssemann, 2019, p. 30). Thus, exile was granted in particular to those Chileans who could be portrayed as “freedom fighters” and “model family [s] from the picture book of proletarian internationalism” (Poutrus, 2005, p. 259). When it came to various conflicts and finally to an existential burch between the Chilean comrades of the Partido Socialista Popular, solidarity was only extended to those who adhered to the guidelines of SED socialism or adopted the socialist identity as it was defined by the SED:

My father and some of his comrades were for the democratization of socialism and against Stalinism. This meant they had no more place in the GDR and were no longer supported there. So that's when they decided, ...so within two weeks they had to leave the country and go to Spain, although they didn't know whether they would find support in Spain. (Interviewee CF1)

The construction of a socialist identity across national borders was based on Lenin’s idea that “in every society there were two cultures - a reactionary culture and a progressive, proletarian, socialist culture” (Lorenz, 2020, p43). Collective socialist identity was built around the notion of sameness, a homogeneous whole behind which individual differences should disappear. According to Hall (1996: 2f.), however, “identification is in the end conditional, lodged in contingency. Once secured, it does not obliterate the difference. The total merging it suggests is, in fact, a fantasy of incorporation”. Although GDR solidarity was based on the Marxist-Leninist tradition of class equality, hierarchical differences occurred within the “common class”. Depending on access to capital in the form of education, money, or status, some of the migrants as well as social groups within the GDR were more privileged than others. The Chilean exiles were mostly members of the educated middle class (Emmerling, 2013, p. 407):

The Chileans who came here, well, are not just any. [...] Discrimination also has to do with poverty, with education. So, if you come to a country and you have education and money or status, you don't get treated with the same kind of suspicion as if you are poor. (Interviewee CM1)

Giulia and Ernesto both held relatively privileged positions in the GDR:

The solidarity was enormous. People arrived to the GDR and received housing, jobs, and education, training. So, the Chileans, to be honest, we were privileged in this society. (Interviewee CM1)

Loans and bridging funds were significantly higher for “political migrants” than the average salary of GDR citizens, which often led to conflicts with the GDR population (Müssemann, 2019, p. 32). Tensions also arose within the group of Chileans due to internal hierarchies: For example, although all exiles were integrated into working life relatively quickly, upon arrival, many had to initially work in production despite high educational qualifications. On the other hand, the high functionaries of Chile’s communist and socialist parties were spared factory work in the GDR (Maurin, 2005, p. 352). Carlos Cerda, a Chilean writer who spent several years in exile in the GDR, described it this way:

For us Chileans, who came to the GDR from a Third World country - and, moreover, from a brutal dictatorship - the first impression was extraordinarily positive. Not only because of the gesture of comprehensive solidarity we received. We were deeply impressed by a state that so massively promoted a cultural life; we were fascinated by a society that defined itself as anti-racist. The ideals of equality and humanity that were invoked seemed to be our own. And the standard of living was relatively high in our eyes - perhaps not in comparison to the FRG. But above all, we had the feeling of being in a country that was looking ahead. (Cerda, 1995, p. 2)

Despite the privileges Guilia and Ernesto experienced as Chileans in the GDR, the reality was in many respects a shock for them. This was among other reasons due to the difference of socialism they experienced in Chile and the GDR-socialism. First, the ideological orientation was different, while the GDR was closely linked to the Soviet Union and was based on the Marxist-Leninist ideology, Chilean socialism under Salvador Allende was characterized by the idea of democratic socialism (Harnecker, 1969). Allende had succeeded in building a peaceful and democratic path to socialism, and for this the Chileans were envied by the left in many capitalist countries around the world. In the GDR, the construction of socialism after World War II had been completely different and the (emotional) relationship of the population to socialism was much more complicated. Whereas socialism in the GDR was imposed from the outside as a result of losing the second world war, in Chile it was the goal of a political struggle shared by many Chileans themselves: “At school [in Chile] everybody was politicized. […] We got to know people who were resisting and organizing, an entire country.” (Interviewee CM1)

There were also differences in terms of the political system: Allende’s policies were a mixture of democratic reforms and socialist economic policies aimed at radically transforming Chilean society toward social justice (Harnecker, 1971). Chile’s political system resembled a pluralistic democracy with a lively political landscape that included diverse political parties and ideologies (ibid.). The GDR, on the other hand, was a one-party authoritarian socialist regime in which the SED held political control and a centrally planned economy prevailed. However, arguably the most fundamental difference was in terms of social freedoms and civil rights. The GDR was a dictatorial regime, people’s daily lives were heavily regimented, civil rights and individual freedoms were restricted, including freedom of speech, assembly, and travel (Harnecker, 1969). The SED and Stasi took repressive action against people who deviated from the political line of the party, including arrests for political reasons. Realizing this was a shock for both interviewees, because in Chile, they had experienced socialism with greater political freedoms and an active civil society. Also, Carlos Cerda describes this realization process:

For us Chileans, at any rate, our eyes opened at the latest when the situation in Poland came to a head and Jaruzelski came to power. Suddenly it became obvious that the GDR was applying double standards: what it had so harshly condemned in the case of Chile, it suddenly praised in its neighboring country. And the similarity of the events was frightening: the parliament dissolved, the trade union banned, the press censored that was critical to some extent - in other words, a dictatorship. Even General Jaruzelski with his dark glasses resembled General Pinochet - even if this is a coincidental parallel. (Cerda, 1995, p. 3)

The clash between the utopia that had brought many Chileans into exile in the GDR, and the reality of the state, which was extraordinarily tense and conflict-ridden, was inevitable (Cerda, 1995, p. 2). Although Ernesto and Guilia themselves lived relatively privileged lives, the GDR-socialism did not correspond to their idea of a socialist society and their expectations of the “socialist brotherland” GDR.

Since the beginning of the 1980s or even earlier, the state security apparatus was increasingly instructed to monitor “foreigners” in their field, especially those related to political activities (Hoffmann, 2020, p5). The reasons were fears that “imperialist secret services […] were trying to use the growing presence of foreigners in the GDR to organize subversive activities against the GDR and the socialist community of states” (ibid.). It becomes clear that in the GDR, especially with regard to “foreigners”, the lives of those who were both vulnerable, conformist, and passive, including political exiles, were protected. At the same time, however, Chileans were also subject to surveillance and control by the SED state. Giulia explains how she was aware of the contradictions within the system, but did not dare to criticize it publicly for fear of being expelled:

The GDR was formative for us in that it was such an overwhelming power. There were very strictly defined borders. As a foreigner, I had to obey these limits in any case, because I could be expelled. (Interviewee CF1)

Ernesto describes how, despite his “state-approved” political work for the Chilean Socialist Party, he was monitored by state security both inside and outside the GDR:

There was a meeting, right after I came [to the GDR], with a woman. She could speak Spanish and she had introduced herself as someone who had to fill out a form about me. And then there were very many questions, which actually had to do with where I was from, whether I was class-conscious or not. They classified me as some kind of 'petit bourgeois'. Yes, not working class, as it should be. That's what it says. [...] [After 1989] I only read one file from the Stasi. And whenever I had been abroad, they always knew exactly where I had been, what I was traveling with, when I returned ... And then there were always operational controls to know where I was at a specific moment... (Interviewee CM1).

Both Chilean witnesses experience solidarity as conditional. In their case the conditions included loyalty to the political guidelines of the SED. Solidarity had its limitations where individuals deviated from the behavior expected of them. In such cases, there was a threat of solidarity being withdrawn and/or the exiles being sent back to their countries of origin.

Between exoticization and solidarity: The “Chilean Heroes”

To represent the interests of Chileans, the state created the “Anti-Fascist Chile” committee, which was responsible for all issues concerning Chilean citizens in the GDR (Möbius, 2005: 161). In cooperation with the SED, the committee staged so-called “friendship rituals” to illustrate the bond between GDR citizens and Chilean “political migrants”. Giulia describes how she was always eyed as “exotic” at such events:

We were sometimes invited for wine or beer, at summer parties or something. And you were seen as a bit exotic, 'Oh my, the little Chilean and the Vietnamese'... Then there were some Africans and we were always seen as exotic. (Interviewee CF1)

The intention was to show that the “foreigners” had found a “second home” in the GDR and had established “close ties with the native population” (Rabenschlag, 2016: para. 9). At the same time, the supposed “alienation” or “uprooting” of “foreigners” from their “original culture and homeland” was to be prevented (Mac Con Uladh, 2005: 206). The events therefore often had a folkloristic character and were based on essentializing stereotypes about the “foreigners” and their supposed “traditions” (Mac Con Uladh, 2005: 206). Giulia resisted this exoticizing representation and tried to avoid appearances at the “solidarity events”.

After all, there was the “Chile Antifascista”. The Germans talked to this committee which wanted us to use us for their cause. We said “Nope”. To the Chileans it was easier for us to say “No”. We experienced the committee rather as a coercive organization, as harassment. (Interviewee CF1)

Giulia describes how she found it easier to cancel such solidarity events with the Chilean committee than with the GDR representatives. This may have been caused by the underlying power relations and the dependence Giulia felt on the GDR. Her rejection of the perpetuation of the dichotomy between GDR citizens and “foreigners” is underscored by her choice of words: if she was one of many in Chile, Giulia is often marked as “Chilean” in the GDR, which means that her individuality disappears in favor of her origin. Expressions such as “coercive organization” and “use us for their cause” give insight into the psychological burden and frustration that the permanent expectations and pressure regarding political attitudes and activities triggered in the interviewee at the time. While Giulia tried to build a life and a home for herself after her arrival in the GDR, it is repeatedly suggested to her, implicitly or explicitly, that she is not “at home” in the GDR, that she is not part of the GDR “norm”. The interviewee’s consternation is still evident in her storytelling almost 50 years later: She experienced this as “harassment” and was angry about how the SED leadership exercised its power of definition by dividing the people in the GDR into guests and citizens, labeling her as “foreign” and “exotic”. At the same time there is also a conscious demarcation to the GDR population by both Guilia and Ernesto. This kind of a “healthy” recognition of difference or a productive desire to be “different” is also necessary to “survive” in exile and is part of the common tension between arriving in the country of exile and the desire to return “home”, which the majority of exiles experience at one stage in their process. An example from the interviews for this self-distinction is that Ernesto never applied for German citizenship, but kept Chilean citizenship throughout his life.

Between class solidarity and racist othering

In the GDR, the strong emphasis on class identity obscured other relations of domination, such as differences in race or gender: In Marxist-Leninist thinking, “race” served alongside “class” as an “imperialist mechanism of oppression” to keep the “oppressed” from rebelling against the “oppressors” (Lorenz, 2020: 44). Communism and racism are consequently diametrically opposed (ibid.). However, an overemphasis on individual categories carries the danger of essentialism and serves to maintain dominant power structures and privileges. While Ernesto did not see himself exposed to discriminatory behavior, he observed racism towards other “foreigners”: “For example, I have many friends from Cuba. They were migrant workers here … No, there was no solidarity, there was only exclusion, indeed.” (Interviewee CM1) Giulia, on the other hand, also talks about personal experiences of racist Othering. Othering ⁵ plays a central role in maintaining hegemonic systems of domination, but also fulfills important psychological functions. Stemming from the need to protect and strengthen one’s own self-worth, in the production of difference, inferiority or foreignness is attributed to “the others” by resorting to stereotypes (Gingrich, 2011). In the interview Guilia remembers:

We had a bookstore with a very, very old bookseller, who had some peculiar quirks, but was nonetheless affectionate. Whenever we came in, he would say: 'Come on in, take off your feathers [....] is this how you dress where you’re from, with feathers?' That was his way of mocking foreigners somehow, but never discriminating or insulting or anything like that. (Interviewee CF1)

Giulia’s words illustrate how she was perceived and positioned as “different” or “foreign” by the bookseller. His reference to “feathers” as clothing suggests that stereotypes of indigenous populations as “uncivilized savages” had existed in the GDR back then. The bookseller, although jokingly, (unconsciously) made use of this stereotypical image, which harbors connotations of the “other” as inferior in contrast to the “self”. Othering doesn’t mean that power is exclusively on the side of the oppressor (Bhabha, 1983). Rather, the reductionist dualism between oppressors and oppressed should be lifted by making visible the agency of the “Othered” (Schmitt & Witte, 2018, p. 1355). In this sense, Guilia agency becomes apparent when she interprets the bookseller’s remarks as mocking humor, with which she countered him herself: “Somehow, he [the bookseller] had this way of talking. He was already eighty at the time. He had still lived through the Empire. We also called him ‘Kaiser Wilhelm' because his name was also Wilhelm.” (Interviewee CF1) In doing so, she articulated that she could not take him seriously due to his age, because his remarks were from another time and had little to do with reality instead of than taking the comments as discriminatory. Nonetheless, Guilia remembers the situation even decades later, and recounts it in the interview in response to the question of whether and to what extent she experienced the GDR population as showing solidarity or being open to “foreigners”.

Power and help: Ambivalences of helpfulness

Racism is also related to constructions of help and neediness, and dynamics of “white ⁶ charity” also existed in the GDR (cf. Cole, 2012). Charity, by definition, is always a power relationship based on a class difference between “rich” and “poor”. White Charity is even more complex because it includes the power dimension of whiteness. “Political migrants” and other foreigners were sometimes seen as in need of help and dependent on the support and solidarity of the GDR leadership and population. The underlying phenomenon is what Nigerian-American writer Teju Cole (2012) refers to as “white saviorism”. Cole (2012) criticized white relief efforts as primarily serving to satisfy white emotional needs. In doing so, the white self constructs itself as innocent and good (ibid.), which, given the incredible violence committed by Europeans, can be seen from a psychological perspective as an act of repression of uncomfortable truths (Kilomba, 2010, p. 21). The SED also constructed itself as “good” and “innocent” in comparison to the “fascist West” by showing solidarity and welcoming Chilean exiles, which again seems cynical given the human rights violations committed within the GDR. Amongst the population as well, there is a fine line between political solidarity and “white charity”. Ernesto describes in the interview how ambivalent his experience of solidarity was.

Of course, I always felt this solidarity. Sometimes it was a bit extreme. For example, I thought I needed furniture. Then I looked in the newspaper. And there was someone selling a piece of furniture. That’s right, for, I don't know, at that time 100 marks. I went there, and then the guy asked me, “Where are you from?” - “I'm from Chile.” – “From Chile? No, I can't do this, I can't take money from you.” (Interviewee CM1)

Ernesto describes the act of solidarity of the person selling furniture to him, which on the one hand came from a place of well-meaning and solidarity, but at the same time caused him discomfort. The question “Where are you from?” shows how the interviewee was positioned outside of GDR society by the seller. This was presumably based on normative ideas about the appearance of GDR citizens. At first glance, Ernesto did not correspond to the fictitious idea of what “German-ness” looks like and was therefore asked about his origins. It implied that he was “different”, “not German”. Anti-racism trainer and author Tupoka Ogette (2017: 98) writes with regards to this:

Behind the question, if we are honest, is not just pure curiosity. Behind the question is a desire. The desire for order. The desire to know who I am dealing with. The desire to put the other person into an imaginary box. And on this box is written “the others”. That's where you belong. I find you interesting, exotic, exciting, funny ..., but one thing you are not (really): one of us.

The question of origin with all its attributions, evaluations and expectations can be very hurtful. In the interview, Ernesto does not address whether he found it hurtful. He only states that he sometimes felt the well-intentioned solidarity was a bit too “extreme”. In the situation described, origin becomes the central category, based on which the selling of furniture for money becomes a moral impossibility. It remains open whether the seller perceived Ernesto as a “poor political migrant”, thus unconsciously making him the needy object of white charity, or whether he wanted to express his admiration for him as a “Chilean hero” by giving him the furniture, which again is a kind of exoticization. At the same time, it must be emphasized that in contrast to today, due to the temporary economy of scarcity in the GDR, giving away, swapping and bartering was very common practice among the population.

In the aforementioned interview excerpt, it further becomes clear how the roles of guest and host and the ambivalence of hospitality shine through. The role of the host is characterized by a position of power that allows the granting of hospitality, but also its withdrawal. For there is “no hospitality, in the classic sense, without sovereignty of oneself over one’s home” (Derrida, 2000, p. 55). The existing power imbalance clearly defines the roles in terms of who may provide and who may receive assistance. The positioning imposed on him as a “recipient of help” creates discomfort in Ernesto. On the one hand, it is important to him that he built his own life in the GDR, and on the other hand, through his many years of political activity, he himself had been the one who always supported other people: “We made prints at home and newspapers, all kinds of things, and distributed leaflets in the poblaciones where poor, really poor people lived…” (Interviewee CM1). Ernesto’ efforts in the GDR were also focused on supporting Chileans in their struggle for freedom. After the German-German unification and the end of the dictatorship in Chile, he became increasingly involved in the political conditions on the ground in Germany, first through working with neo-Nazis and later in hosting refugees:

Then in 2015 there were 150 people who came. ... The people who were most against it were normal people, but with such hatred. There were big discussions, organized by the community, to inform. And then they came and said they will bring diseases, they will take our properties..., the world will end and so on and so forth. And they will rape our girls, and there will be more crimes - this kind of rhetoric. But they didn't get away with it, especially because we immediately formed a citizens' initiative. (Interviewee CM1)

Here it becomes clear how Ernesto’ position in society changed over the years: He left the role of the guest and became a host himself by welcoming refugees in his new home community in Brandenburg.

“Good foreigner - Bad foreigner”

Ernesto tells in the interview how the coup and the effects of the cruel military dictatorship in Chile were met with great sympathy from the citizens of the GDR:

So as Chileans, to be honest, we were privileged in this society. By that I mean that there was institutional solidarity, but there was also solidarity among the population. This had to do with the fact that the revolution in Chile, it wanted to reconcile freedom with socialism. That was a great source of hope. (Interviewee CM1)

Ernesto considers the extent of the personal sympathy he received remarkable. But whilst being admired for his work for the Chilean socialists, he also experienced processes of Othering, especially in the form of iconization or by being portrayed as a “hero” in the fight against fascism. In GDR times Ernesto also utilized the identity of a partisan and member of resistance against fascism in specific moments, since it granted him certain privileges. Especially in difficult situations the strategic use of the role as “Chilean Hero” allowed for more agency, as the following situation shows:

So, I couldn't get married, and we had to ask for permission, but the permission wasn't granted. Not because of me, this they couldn't do. But for her, there was no permit. She couldn't get married. And then you had to apply three times. And yes, she experienced arbitrary treatment... So why not leave the country...? Because if she left, her mother would have problems at work, her grandfather probably wouldn't get a pension if she married me, and her sister would have problems at university... so in the end I wrote a letter where I said that I wanted to return to Chile to fight against the dictatorship of Pinochet, for the good cause and so on. And that I would like my wife to be there with me, to fight side by side. And eventually they said “yes”. (Interviewee CM1)

Ernesto describes how he decided to accept the “identity expectations” directed at him and use them strategically in order to get permission to marry his partner. Overall, the enormous solidarity with Chile and his privileged position in GDR society also evokes embarrassment in Ernesto, as he senses that other “foreigners” in the GDR fared differently: “In the end, I have the impression that back then we were the good guys, the good foreigners, yes. But I can't really say why it was so…” (Interviewee CM1). The labeling as “good” or “bad foreigner” is based on identity characteristics or behavior set against the social norm. In other words, “good foreigners” are those who conform to the hegemonic ideas of society as a whole: As long as they behave accordingly, they are superficially recognized, in the case of Chileans in the GDR, as “socialist revolutionaries”. However, as soon as migrants counter the hegemonic discourse, they may be portrayed as a danger to the community, criminalized and prosecuted. This division into “good foreigners” and “bad foreigners” is not a GDR-specific phenomenon, but a dynamic that exists in every nation-state society.

Negotiating “socialist identity”

In the interviews, the Chilean exiles also critically addressed the construction of socialist identity and the relationships between “comrades”. For example, Ernesto describes how his own identity as a socialist was fed by his “great love” for socialism:

We educated ourselves politically and with this came about another kind of love. Yes. Namely, the love that was connected with a political task [...]. We considered our friends not only as friends, but as comrades. And that was actually an incredible thing, to be in a youth association. To be in love. To feel that we listened to better music, read better books, that we actually were better people because we were building the future society. (Interviewee CM1)

His expectations of the GDR citizens were based on his self-image as a socialist. After an initial euphoric phase with international students at the “Wilhelm Pieck” cadre school of the FDJ, Ernesto experienced more and more alienation toward his German fellow students in everyday life in the GDR, where the political repression and constant surveillance left its mark on everyday interactions. He experienced the students as lacking solidarity towards one another, as the following example illustrates:

Everyone belonged to the FDJ group except me [...]. And then there was a couple who were newly in love and didn't attend one of the lectures. That was discussed in the FDJ, why they didn't come to the lecture, why they were allowed to stay in bed and we weren't. People said it showed a lack of political responsibility. They discussed it within the group and everybody knew that the couple would be scolded in the next lecture, and nobody told them that. [...] And that didn't feel so good anymore, so it felt almost like back then, you know, when everyone was against the Jews, everyone participated in it, some kind of evil almost, something unpleasant. (Interviewee CM1)

For Ernesto, this way of dealing is incomprehensible, because solidarity within one’s own group is the prerequisite for the common struggle for liberation. In addition to the lack of solidarity and sometimes hostile atmosphere, Ernesto increasingly perceived his fellow GDR citizens as consumerist:

And then there were also people amongst our friends [...], who only saw the beautiful sides of capitalist society. All the consumer goods, but they didn’t see what's behind it, you know. The injustices, where do all these nice clothes come from, how many people had to die in India? This is what they didn't see. And that was my topic, that was somehow a debate I was part of. And suddenly I realized that actually many people were primarily concerned with consumption. (Interviewee CM1)

For Ernesto, this attitude was at once the cause, manifestation and consequence of the broken socialist system in the GDR. During the interview, Giulia positioned herself similarly to Ernesto and described how she perceived the GDR citizens as materialistic. The self-positioning of the two interviewees as having little interest in consumerism is perhaps based on their own experiences of the precarious economic situation and lack of supplies in Chile in the 1970s. On the other hand, both lived in the GDR in a relatively privileged position economically, received higher incomes than the average GDR population, and had easier access to “Western goods”, because it was easier for them to apply for permission to leave the country than for GDR citizens.

In retrospect, Ernesto, in particular, clung to the role of the Chilean resistance fighter whilst also being rather uncomfortable with the overall idealization and elevation of Chilean communists as iconic freedom fighters, as his own experiences during the first years of the dictatorship in Chile were also marked by losses and grief.

Emotional negotiation processes in exile in the “socialist brotherhood”

In Chile, Ernesto had prepared himself for militant armed resistance, so that on the one hand he was part of an “elite force” that enjoyed a high reputation; on the other hand, this meant that he was constantly confronted with his own death as well as the deaths of comrades: “At least twice a year some of us have gotten arrested, tortured, some have been killed, others have been forcibly disappeared.” (Interviewee CM 1)

When he first arrives in the GDR, Ernesto initially assumes that his stay will be limited to a period of nine months. When changes in the political situation in Chile made his return impossible, it came as a shock to Ernesto.

I was looking forward to returning [to Chile], and then boom, there was a search in my apartment [in Santiago]. Right when there was a meeting of the leadership of the [Chilean Socialist] Youth Federation. That means, everyone was arrested, including my girlfriend, and they were tortured for a month. And at that time, we knew: Someone [...] who is outside the country, who is safe, can be incriminated, with everything you got, yes. And so, I was the one who was incriminated. And I was not supposed to return under any circumstances. ... That was a bit of a shock for me, because during that time [in the GDR] everything was nice here, but I was sad [...] because I knew that I would come back [to Chile], but then I could not. Indeed, this was a real cut.... What do I do now, where do I stay? Could I stay here in Germany in the GDR? Or do I look for a country where I have to ask for asylum? (Interviewee CM 1)

The news of not being able to return to Chile brought a lot of uncertainty and sadness for Ernesto.

Even though at the time he was content with his life in the GDR, the sudden change in his circumstances came as a “shock” to him. To illustrate the grief and sadness he was experiencing, Ernesto refers to a song he used to listen to back then about a man in a foreign country, unable to return home. Rather than going into his own feelings at that time, he uses the men in the song, who is going through something similar, to explain his feelings in that situation. At this point in the interview, and in general whenever his inability to return to Chile is mentioned, Ernesto’s otherwise fluid narration falters and he stumbles over his own words.

Silvio Rodriguez […] has a song. In it he talks about, um, um, what am I doing here, um, [starts humming] …. äh, it’s about someone, who, who, wonders... what am I doing here... in a foreign country, and, um, he, um wants to go back, but he can’t, and this was, well, a kind of...., for me..., a kind of... [trails off] (Interviewee CM 1)

In exile, Ernesto had to find a way to deal with the memories and traumas he had experienced and to come to terms with his past. This complex psycho-social negotiation process can explain his ambivalent attitude towards being portrayed as a “hero” and a partisan in the fight against fascism.

Additionally, being in Exile he also felt guilty about not being able to make a significant contribution to the liberation struggle in Chile, and he felt that he was letting down his comrades in Chile. Although Ernesto worked in the diplomatic representation of the Partido Socialista Popular, Salvador Allende's party, and thus worked from the GDR for the socialist struggle in Chile, the phase in Exile is marked by feelings of impotence. In the interview, the helplessness of only being able to follow events in Chile from a distance becomes clear and the strong wish to return to Chile, which he kept the whole time, can be understood as an attempt to deal with his feelings of powerlessness. He could never let go of his great desire to return to Chile and take part in the resistance struggle, even though in reality this return became impossible for him. This was the idea that informed Ernesto’s decision to come to the GDR and shaped his entire stay there, gave him hope to go on and, consequently, essentially marked his construction of belonging in the GDR.

At the time we were in a program to return [to Chile] [...]. There was a basic military training, you know. So, there was a time when we thought [...] Pinochet won’t be leaving without there being a military confrontation. So [...] we actually wanted to move back [...] because of that. (Interviewee CM1)

For years Ernesto lived with the idea of going back to Chile, at times even making concrete preparations for military resistance against the dictatorship. In his wish to return to Chile and his commitment to continuing the political struggle from afar, Ernesto harbors aspirations that are typical for diasporic communities (Clifford, 1994, p. 304). Just like diasporas are “both ethnic-parochial and cosmopolitan” (Werbner, 2002, p. 120), Ernesto very much stayed true to his “homeland”, whilst also being connected internationally with comrades in many different countries working together for political change “at home”. The emotional significance of this topic was evident in the interview, as it was one of the few moments in the conversation when Ernesto’s voice fails him and he struggles for words:

Meanwhile in Chile, Pinochet's government came to an end…suddenly I felt that I had no task there anymore, yes. I would have actually, if I could have achieved, I wanted to achieve, if I just would have achieved something... (Interviewee CM1)

Last but not least, for Ernesto, exile also meant coming to terms with the grief of having lost his home, his family, his friends, his familiar surroundings and, ultimately, the destruction of the socialist dream. The nostalgia for the time in Chile is evident throughout the interview; Ernesto still reminisces about the past where he experienced both purpose and community.

Social upheaval and biographical breaks in 1989 and 1990

In the German transformation process of 1989, social narratives were transformed, and views of “right” and “wrong” were turned into their opposite. The black and white division of the world according to different political poles in the East and the West, had come to an end and led to the questioning of one’s own beliefs from the past but also a feeling of disorientation in the present: “During that time the world was divided in two. The good and the bad. We were the good ones and all the imperialist countries were the bad ones.” (Interviewee CM1) When this black-and-white view of the world began to falter, questions that were previously easy to answer suddenly became much more complicated. For Ernesto, these upheavals mean a re-orientation of his biography and identity, but also a renewed negotiation of his position within the new social environment. The time and social changes of 1989–1990 in Germany and Chile represent one of the biggest “breaks'' in Ernesto' biography. The fall of the Berlin Wall and the end of the GDR took place almost simultaneously, with the end of the Pinochet dictatorship. The simultaneous disappearance of the enemy Pinochet in Chile together with the “end of socialism” in Germany generated feelings of loss of meaning and disorientation. Throughout the many years of his involvement in the resistance, political activism was a constant in Ernesto’ identity, even when other circumstances changed:

At one time I was called Diego, at other times Orlando and Brauli in Chile. I had these three political names. And in those 10 years I was only addressed by these names. Then, when I came to East Germany, I was called Antonio Pueblo until the fall of communism. That means that I practically never used my name for 15, 16, 17 years. So, I was always someone who was addressed by another name. (Interviewee CM1)

Ernesto does not elaborate in the interview on the meaning he gives to his political names and the name changes in his life. Presumably, in the context of underground political work in Chile, his name changes served to protect his identity and person. Maintaining anonymity through the use of pseudonyms is a common political practice of activists and resistance fighters and should be understood in the context of political persecution during the dictatorship in Chile. The fact that Ernesto continued to live in the GDR under a different name shows that he maintained his resistance identity throughout. It was only after the transformation in 1989-90 that Ernesto returned to his birth name. Again, at this point in his life, the name change may have caused identity confusion, as his political names were strongly associated with his identity and political work in the past. The return to his birth name at the end of the dictatorship and the GDR illustrates once again that after 15 years, a new phase begins: on the one hand, Ernesto says goodbye to his resistance identity to a certain extent; on the other hand, he can also let go of the burden of keeping secrets and the feeling of threat to his person.

Although the societal transformation meant a return to democracy in both countries, for Ernesto this change was also accompanied by hopelessness and sadness. For him as for many on the left, this moment meant the end of the dream of a democratic socialist society. Furthermore, for Ernesto it became clear that there was no going back to the Chile he had known, to the country that he had missed during his whole time in the GDR. He had to learn to live with the disappointment that in the end it was not only liberal democracy that triumphed in Chile, but also capitalism. His “socialist heart” had to give up his hope of being a (more) active part in the fight against the Pinochet-dictatorship. This means that a central project of Ernesto' life - the resistance against fascism - also came to an end. The vision of return that he had always cherished was now finally shattered, as was the dream of fighting for a socialist Chile. Ernesto had to mourn these lost dreams of a life no longer lived. At the thought of the time and his sudden feelings of uselessness, words fail him. He repeats several times the same phrase until the interviewer helps Ernesto to find back to his words:

Ernesto: In Chile, Pinochet's government had come to an end. And then suddenly I felt that I no longer had a job there, ugh, yes. I would have actually, if I achieved something, if I would have achieved something, eh, if I had achieved something, …if I had achieved something... eh.

Interviewer: ...what would you have wanted to?

Ernesto: ... if I wanted to achieve something, yes, then I would have had to go straight away to Chile, because that was the time when, ugh, yes, .... [Pause]

Interviewer: ...the time when?

Ernesto: ...when politics and jobs where distributed… [pause] … But I didn’t do that. (Interviewee CM1)

The intensity of this experience becomes also clear when Ernesto expresses that until today secretly his time in Chile fighting against fascism was the most beautiful time of his life. In the same sentence he confesses his bad conscience about these thoughts, because this evaluation of his biography is not socially acceptable, since the Pinochet dictatorship cannot make a good life possible from a leftist social perspective.

Well, I told a friend from Spain something like this, that the happiest time of my life had been under the terrible dictatorship of Pinochet. Afterwards he told me that I shouldn't say that anymore and that I must not say that because there was a lot of suffering, too. But it's really like that. When I miss a time, when I sometimes brood, which sometimes happens in the evening, when you have so much stress and you can't sleep. There's this autogenic training. It’s actually about letting go and then thinking positive, thinking something nice. And those nice things were always stuff that comes from that time. (Interviewee CM1)

It becomes apparent that not only is one's own view of one's life story shaped by the respective social context, but also one's feelings toward own past experiences are compared with what is socially legitimate. Above all because it was only after the end of the dictatorships in Chile and East Germany that the true extent of the destruction in each society became known. As long as the terror is still “total”, people are in a kind of survival mode (Becker, 2006: 191). Only after the end of totalitarian rule, in the phase of upheaval or new beginnings, people become painfully aware of the immutability of the past (ibid.). Ernesto' depressive mood during this time was manifested in the fact that he locked himself in for days on end and listened to music by Mahler and Wagner, which he himself described as “apocalyptic music”. As during the time when he received the news that he couldn’t return to Chile, again after the reunification of the GDR and the FRG music helped Ernesto work through his feelings and negotiate his identity. Also, in the interview he uses again the reference to the music his listened to, in order to express himself and his feelings at a certain moment at his life. Turning to this classic German music was at the same time a decision against the Chilean música popular, which he dismissed as “primitive music” in that moment.

I had developed an inner rejection of Chile... the primitive music, yes, because in the meantime I was listening to Mahler, going to the philharmonic, learning an instrument and so on. And then everything that came out of Chile, which I considered to be a little inferior [...] Then I began, for example, to work on the Ring of the Nibelungs. That's 15 hours of music, complicated German, which is actually not very accessible [...] and music full of leitmotifs and so on. And I listened to it at home, yes, for hours, and I enjoyed it very much. (Interviewee CF 1)

He developed a kind of 'inner rejection' of Chile in order to finally gain a foothold in unified Germany. His fervent wish was to end the feeling of missing another time, another country, another life that he had experienced since emigrating to the GDR:

At the beginning of the 1990s I developed a different strategy, a negationist strategy. I actually imagined that the country [Chile] was not worthwhile [...] And I realised that I had developed an inner rejection of Chile.... And then I considered everything that came from Chile to be a bit inferior. Sure, now it's clear to me why. I didn't want to be there with one foot and here with the other. But I wanted to be here, I wanted to do politics here, I wanted to like the food from here more, I wanted to like the language, I wanted to like the landscapes here, and I didn't want to miss the same, but I always and somehow didn't go back from Chile. So, I went for the first time in 2000. So, there were about ten years that I didn't want to go back, no, I didn't want to go back. My whole family wanted to go, my children wanted to go and so on, but I always refused. (Interviewee CF1)

Although it was finally possible to return to Chile after years in exile, Ernesto refused going back for 10 more years. He needed this time period to mourn, to let go of what no longer existed and to build a new future in Germany, since the GDR and the “old Chile” no longer existed. Only years later, when Ernesto returned to Chile, he was able to confront his multiple belongings to both countries.

Tension between belonging and foreignness in chile and Germany

Guilia leaves Chile under completely different conditions than Ernesto. From the beginning she was prepared for an uncertain future and the possibility that returning would not be an option. Even later, she never intended to move back to Chile. During her time in the GDR, she focused entirely on arriving in her new “home”, learning German and finding her place in the GDR society, which she succeeded in doing. Against this backdrop, she describes her feelings towards the German-German unification as ambivalent: On the one hand, the national sentiments that were appealed to didn’t mean anything to her. On the other hand, she noticed how “being German” again “became important” for her personally. It is only the lack of identification with the unified Germany which opened up new perspectives for her years later, as far as the “Chilean” of her identity was concerned:

Germany remains distant to me in many ways. I try very hard to revive my own identity, my own self. While the ‘Chilean' was rather dead for me in the GDR, I learned German very quickly, studied, worked, and it was all in German. And after the reunification, the German aspects were important, and I became a German citizen in ‘94. But maybe in 2000 I thought, screw it, I’m not German. When I go to Chile, they perceive me as very Germanized. I’m half and half, but I want my other half too, my Chilean half. (Interviewee CF1)

Her Chilean identity was not very present for years, and it is only years after the German-German unification that she is able to renegotiate it and “revive” the “Chilean” part of her biography. Thus, she follows, in a sense, the reverse path taken by Ernesto: his involvement was strongly focused on Chile during the GDR, but made place for local initiatives after the German reunification in 1989. Giulia, on the other hand, threw herself into her “new” life and only rekindled her personal connection to Chile relatively late, after this aspect of her past had been rather absent for her during GDR times. What both have in common, however, is the impossibility of settling on a single national identity. Just like Ernesto, who does not want to have to decide, Giulia does not want to be reduced to either one of the two parts.

Resume and outlook

In the interviews with the Chilean socialist exiles, the contradictions between the officially propagated international solidarity of the GDR with Chile and their own experiences of ambivalent solidarity become clear. On the one hand, both witnesses appreciate the solidarity they received in the GDR: from state support in the form of education and housing to sympathy in everyday interactions with their German neighbors. At the same time, they experience that solidarity does not exist in a powerless vacuum and that state solidarity in particular was tied to context-specific conditions: namely, the recognition of SED policy. But also in their interpersonal encounters, Ernesto and Giulia were confronted with a variety of reactions, ranging from admiration as Chilean heroines to Othering as non-white “foreigners”. In academic literature on “foreigners” in the GDR, Othering experiences are often mentioned implicitly. However, explicit naming and deconstruction of Othering processes have been almost entirely absent from the research. In this article we tried to address this gap and offer an analysis of the Chilean interviewees’ agency vas-à-vis Othering practices and narratives in the context of political exile in the GDR.

Even though Ernesto’ and Julia’s respective strategies differed, neither of them sees themselves as passive and helpless. Rather, they actively negotiated and constructed identity, belonging(s), and positioning between the GDR and Chile. Both at times appropriated Othering by rejecting, reinterpreting, or strategically using attributions from the outside for themselves. The experience of being treated as “foreign” was nevertheless formative for both. Thus, Giulia and Ernesto, both found themselves in a continuous process of negotiation between feelings of belonging, turmoil and foreignness in Chile and Germany throughout their lives. At the same time, there were also many truthful encounters and genuine rapprochements between the Chilean exiles and the Germans. The transformation process in 1989 was also a “double-edged sword” for both of them: On the one hand, an era came to an end that for both interviewees was associated with hopes for a better future, calling into question all previously held norms and values. On the other hand, the upheaval also was a chance to “reinvent oneself”, which both interviewees did in their own way.

Finally, we would like to venture an outlook on questions of solidarity and Othering in the context of current refugee and migration processes, since the topic remains relevant in the current situation: Even in contemporary debates, racism in the public discourse on refugees for the most part is not being openly addressed, but instead is disguised by placeholder motifs such as “cultural compatibility” or “social cohesion”. In Germany as well as on the European level, the hierarchization and categorization of refugees and “foreigners” in general has once again been made all the more visible since the outbreak of the war in Ukraine. In contrast to the GDR, however, the asylum discourse meanwhile has changed from exile for the politically persecuted to protection for the suffering and helpless, having been “displaced from the political to the humanitarian arena” (Fassin, 2001: 4). Although these motifs were already somewhat present back then, as was also evident in the interviews, they are now much more pronounced in public discourse and have become the primary criterion for inclusion and exclusion. This enables former colonial powers to position themselves as “good and innocent” on the one hand, and on the other hand to conceal global connections as well as dodge their own co-responsibility in the events that cause people to flee. Therefore, it might be appropriate to understand the concept of solidarity in its original meaning as interdependencies and mutual entanglements in order to call into question the prevailing rhetoric of charity rather than responsibility.