A Guided Tour Through the Museum of Communism (11 page)

D
ear Members of the Learned Society, Distinguished Guests,

Many, many generations of Moles ago, near the place where we are right now, there stood a massive concrete structure called the Berlin Wall. The well-known Mole Legend tells us that it was erected at several periods during ancient times, starting in
anno domini
1961. When it was finished in
anno domini
1975, it was 3.6 meters high and 140 kilometers long. As a collector of old Legends, and being interested in archaeology, I was curious to find out how much truth (if any) this Legend contained. For example, I find it particularly interesting that Men used to dig tunnels under this very Wall, as if they were Moles themselves. Was this only an invention of our ancestors? Apparently one such tunnel is said to have been 145 meters long—an admirable achievement and length, even by our standards. A Mole like me would need some seven to ten days to dig it, but then it would not be 70 centimeters high, as this one supposedly was. We Moles don't need such high passages, as we would call them, because, quite obviously, we are much smaller than Men. Also, it was not the habit of us Moles to “escape” from one side of the then existing Wall to the other, which, according to the Legend, was evidently what triggered the digging of the tunnel in the first place. Living in the Underland, even then we Moles used to move everywhere, politely greeting our neighbors from what Men from the Overland used to call the “Other Side.” Of course, we never cared much about their different sides, but while investigating this part of the Legend about the tunnel, I slowly came to realize why they did. Men did not descend into our world without a reason.

Why did this long tunnel fascinate us Moles? I guess that we Underland creatures felt some kind of solidarity, even pity, because to dig with clumsily built bodies and without proper tools to make up for such a shortcoming must have been an exhausting job. Moles are by nature equipped for such work; we have paws adapted for digging. But poor Men must rely upon various kinds of substitute paws, like shovels and a variety of frightening, noisy machines that—for the very specific reason of secrecy—were not available to those who dug the legendary tunnel under the Wall. It had to be dug by hand, and therefore our forefathers must have felt sorry and tried to help Men by digging in front of them, making the soil more porous—or so the Legend goes.

Allegedly, Men started to dig this tunnel in
anno domini
1964, soon after the Berlin Wall was erected. Except that it was not a concrete Wall right away, but a wall made out of barbed wire. As you know, normally, when we hear people digging, we run away. They produce vibrations that are very disturbing to us. Since we don't see very well, we are very oversensitive to sounds. We are used to silence, and to the ordinary sounds of Overland life, which we experience as a dull and hushed noise. But on that occasion the sound of their digging was almost as inaudible as ours—although, in my experience, Men are too prone to chat—and the Moles were hardly disturbed by it. I guess that our old ones were grateful for that. If I remember correctly what I was told as a youngster, and I believe that I do, the entrance into the tunnel was in a backyard toilet in the then Eastern part of Berlin. One had to descend to a depth of twelve meters! The exit hole was in the cellar of a former bakery in Bernauer Strasse, situated on the Western side. My grandma told me she heard that Moles from the surroundings would come together in order to marvel at the diggers and their commitment, while they were busy filling push-carts with earth and then taking them up to the cellar and emptying them there. According to these Moles, it took the diggers six long months to accomplish this admirable job!

It was particularly tough when the tunnel was finished and the first few people went down in order to make their “escape.” If they are not miners, Men do not go down to the Underland, and when they must, their first reaction is to panic. We know that feeling from another kind of experience—from ending up there in the Overland by mistake. It happened to me once when I thrust my head out in the wrong place—actually, in an excavation in the middle of a street with heavy traffic. I just popped out for a moment, and was immediately blinded by sunlight and deafened by the sounds of the passing cars. I still remember what a shock it was; it took me days to recover from it. I imagine that these Men descending to our Underland must have felt something similar. Passing through that tunnel must have been an extremely traumatic experience for every single one of them. Men in general are very dependent upon their eyesight; in the tunnel they could not see anything, so they had to carry some sort of light-casting device. They were afraid of suffocating, and their hearts were beating too fast. In some places they had to crawl almost like snakes, which to Moles witnessing the scene must have looked funny. There is a story about one old Man, probably the oldest in the group, who evidently suffered from claustrophobia. He fainted and had to be carried back to the toilet. But in spite of this unpleasant accident, he tried once more and succeeded, so big was his wish to leave. Another person had a heart problem and, in the middle of the tunnel, had an attack and thought that he would die there, underground. He started to yell and cry. Others in the group were petrified, fearing that guards posted along the Wall to prevent just such events would hear him. As they had advanced too far and there was no way back (Too risky? Too complicated? I do not know, but it was impossible for this reason or another.) one of the escapees put his hand over the sick Man's mouth to prevent him from yelling. He almost killed his suffering companion. Evidently, the escapees were ready to sacrifice this unfortunate person's life in order to save the group. If their attempt to escape had been discovered, they would have all gone to jail for many years.

In order to fully comprehend this part of the Legend, one has to know that in ancient times these Men living in the Overland were ruled by a great fear of guards and all kinds of uniformed people, as well as Men without uniforms but in powerful positions. To “escape”—i.e., to migrate without permission from the Supreme Authority called the State—was considered a grave and highly punishable offense. However, there were rumors that a certain number of Men managed to obtain such permission and could leave legally, but most of them were old and sick. The Legend does not deal with this specific issue in more detail, but it seems that they were exported just because of the reasons mentioned. It is hard to guess why the Other Side would have wanted Men in such condition if not to demonstrate its charitable intentions. But if these specific categories of Men could have served some other unknown and unimaginable purpose, this knowledge is lost now.

There were thousands of specially trained soldiers and dogs posted all along the Wall. There were 116 watchtowers in order to prevent any attempts at escape, which were anyway numerous. On this point the legend is amazingly specific: some 5,000 men managed to make it to the other side, while 72,000 were jailed for trying to escape. But there is still, to this very day, a dispute about the number of killed escapees, and various versions speak of either one hundred or two hundred. Still, because most Men were not free to leave that Overland country, they feared the police more than the soldiers posted at the Wall. In particular, they feared a kind of secret policeman whose job was to spy on ordinary Men committing any kind of “subversion” (?!) and report on them to the same Supreme Authority. Such spies were called Stasi, and their particular quality was that they were numerous and looked just like ordinary Men, so that you couldn't tell one from the other. Consequently, as our ancestors noticed, the biggest fear of the escapees in the legendary tunnel was that one of these Stasi might infiltrate their group. Or, perhaps one of 189,000 of their “informal employees.” I must say I do not believe that there could really have been such imminent danger. This looks more like a picturesque addition to the Legend, as it is hard to believe that a Man would go into a tunnel with the sole intention of spying. Incidentally, I also learned that Men use the term “Mole” to describe such a double agent—that is, a person pretending to be a member of the group of escapees while actually working for the police. Needless to say, dear colleagues, I find that usage highly inappropriate, if not insulting.

The Legend of the Berlin Wall lives on because we Moles remembered it and passed it on to our children as a cautionary tale about how strangely Men could behave and how little we know about them. But there are some questions raised in connection with this remarkable endeavor. It seems puzzling why these Men, exactly fifty-seven of them, were so desperate to risk their lives in order to reach the cellar of a former bakery. What was hidden there? Clearly, the answer had to do with the Wall. But why was the Wall there in the first place? I mean, those two walls, of course. Because we tend to forget that there were two Berlin Walls, although the Legend mentions only that the second one was erected later on—with a strip of land in between tellingly called the “Death Strip.” It was deadly only for Men, of course, because according to some versions, there was wildlife there, such as rabbits, mice, birds, and insects, even cats, not to mention our own population. It is said that in those days we even used to mate there. Although safety is always our first priority, we could easily disappear into the Underland in the case of shooting. Unlike Men, for example. Or rabbits, for that matter.

Why that second, parallel Wall was built was something we pondered over for generations. As if one single such construction would not have been enough to prevent people from crossing over? We know that Men are great builders; they like to build all sorts of structures. We therefore assume they built that gigantic Wall in order to protect themselves from their powerful enemies. But even from our underground perspective one could tell that, in their case, there could be no other, more dangerous predators threatening them. It would be strange to have built a Wall for reasons of security. Man is a species without natural enemies, a quite remarkable fact when you come to think about it. Therefore, my hypothesis was (and later you will see why I am using the past tense here) that these two Walls, separated by a strip of wasteland some one hundred meters wide, had no other logical purpose but to divide their hunting territory. “The two walls must have been there because of hunting,” I thought.