Berlinzulage
Who in their right mind would want to have the Berlin Wall back again? Nobody. Well not me, anyway. And I’ve never even had a right mind. I’ve always been just a little bit daneben (off the mark). But sure, we all know people who are frustrated with the ways things have gone (not) since the Wall’s fall and bemoan it and verkläre (transfigure) the past and will swear to you up and down that everything was better “back then” (regardless of which side of the Wall you were living on, by the way).
It’s just too easy to forget the fact that the good old days weren’t really all that good. Doctors even have a word for this. I haven’t the slightest idea what this word is, though, so I will just use the term selective memory instead.
And I’ll tell you what. I may not want to have the Berlin Wall back again or anything, but as far as my selective memory process goes, one thing was definitely a whole lot better back then. At least for those of us who lived and worked in West Berlin, that is. It was the so-called Berlinzulage.
The Berlinzulage was nothing more (or less) than a 7% extra pay bonus everybody got for living and working here. You know, Buschzulage (bush or hardship pay) for those who had the guts to stick it out in such a dreadful and horrible place like West-Berlin. West-Berlin, that island of freedom surrounded by a sea of communism, an enclave of liberty standing alone against all odds and an overwhelming enemy of evilness and badness and unpleasantness and not-niceness even. Stuff like that. Anyway, if you’re a stickler for details about the numbers, have a look at paragraph 28 of the Berlinförderungsgesetz (Berlin Assistance Law) or BerlinFG.
A 7% bonus? Just for living in a place that you were going to live anyway and that wasn’t even, well, radioactive or anything? Those were the days, folks. And there were other Berlin goodies, too. The flights in and out of town were subsidized, for instance. Freight costs in and out of the city, too. The state encouraged those who wished to purchase real estate here. Local telephone calls which were measured with an 8 minute Zeittakt (billing period) in the BRD were unlimited here and you could talk forever for practically nothing.
The Bonn government pumped a whole lot of money into this place, a substantial portion of its annual budget. But it had to if it wanted to maintain its credibility about standing up (and putting out) for Berlin, the future German capital. A future that no one, not even the most optimistic conservative, genuinely believed would ever be seen in his or her lifetime.
And then it happened doch (after all), despite all of the well-laid plans. The Wall just disappeared one day and nobody knew what else to do other than cap the spending and kill the Berlinzulage. And killed it they did, in the early nineties. In other words, a long, long, time ago.
But like I said, I don’t miss the Berlin Wall. I just get a little nostalgic about that Bonner Cash from time to time. And Berlin is broke now, too, and nobody seems to know what to do about it. Maybe Berliners should start a new grassroots movement. If they can’t get the Wall back they could at least try and get the money. I know, they’ll call it “Berlinzulage Berlin zuliebe” or something. Or maybe they won’t.
Man, I just reread this. I really think it’s time for me to wake up and start smelling the coffee.