[Liberty Bell, pgs 1-7, Vol. 17, No. 5, January 1990]

     On the 9th of November 1989, my plane took off from Toronto for Europe. My plan was to rush to the aid of my stricken friend and chief advisor, Dr. Robert Faurisson, For security reasons, no one knew that I was going to Europe, Only one man had been notified "in code". Only I knew my itinerary, and not even those whom I was going to see knew that I was on my way.
     Once inside Europe, I turned my car radio on and was greeted by the sound of an excited babble of noises and voices, at once discordant and yet also familiar. As I turned the dial slowly, I made an electronic journey via the ether, through Europe. There was Polish, Czech, Russian, Dutch, French and German on the airwaves. Naturally, the familiar German caught my attention, and I paused a little longer and could not believe what I heard.
     I pulled to the side of the road and listened to the excited voices of the male and female announcers who, judging by their voices, were younger than myself, maybe by some twenty years. Overcome by emotion, they were giving a blow by blow description of the "opening of the Wall of Shame." Inadvertently I had landed in Europe and was in Germany at this moving and historic moment. I was overcome by joy, and quietly wiped away my tears as these supposedly brainwashed "New Germans" on the radio reported the falling of the wall, the cutting of the barbed wire, the sound of the pneumatic drills and the scraping of the shovels. Ah, what a joy to have been there that day, at that moment. What a day full of promise and hope for the future!
     I shook myself out of my near-enchanted state and brought myself under control. Looking at the map in front of me, I kept track of where the borders between the two Germanies were opening and was overjoyed. For a lifetime I had gone across this mark of shame and stain on Germany's proud honor and traditions, I remembered having crossed at Eisenach in my youth, on my first visit to Germany's Soviet Zone of Occupation in 1953, with my new brother-in-law and my sister, going to Karl Marx Stadt, Leipzig, and Dresden which was still in rubble and ruins from the devastating air raid by the U.S. and British "Air-Gangsters", as the populace referred to them at the time.
     I also remembered having been turned back at the same border area by the Communists in the sixties, and having to enter divided Berlin via Helmltedt, close to the "Volkswagen City" of Wolfsburg. This town, the first town in the world based and built on a "Helicopter Survey" using National Socialist Germany's first helicopter for that purpose. All this went through my mind as I made my way across Germany, a Germany rebuilt, vibrant, pulsating with traffic, and virile energy at every moment.
     I had not been "at home" for 12 years for various reasons, all having to do, perversely enough, with my defense and struggle for truth about Germany's recent past.
     Here I was, surrounded by the latest of shiny cars, trucks, and buses, whizzing purposefully past me at great speed, all of them controlled and orderly, heading for some distant destiny it seemed. I looked at their faces as they moved past me left and right, and to my surprise, all of them were White! That's the first thing which hit me—they were all White. In my twelve years in the Gulag of Canada, for years unable or forbidden to travel, I had gotten used to the many colored faces of Pakistanis, Chinese, to Jamaicans, Arabs, Africans. Gone were the turbans of the Seikhs, gone the many different head-shapes and hair-textures. Here, all were Aryans, it seemed.
     I kept turning the radio dial as I drove and finally stopped for gas, and there in front of me I saw parked by a gas pump the unmistakable shape of an "East-German" TRAJBI, a car so small that it looked more like the trunk of my own Chrysler. The heavyset German who carefully filled his tank, intently gazing at the Deutsch-Mark counter, looked at me with his shiny blue eyes as I made my way towards the "Tankwart", the man who took the money. I told the man that his tank-full of gas was a gift from me, we shook hands, exchanged greetings. I asked him how long he had been en route, since I saw the grime and dirt on his car, and he said, four days in a transit camp, some time in Czechoslovakia, and then the trip. The little car could barely travel at 75 kilometers an hour, which is about 50 miles. He had come to see relatives, actually to flee, but now that the border could be crossed legitimately, he said he would have to see, and would await developments.
     During my stay, I encountered many more "Trabis", all had the same cautious attitude and very few really wanted to stay in the West; they just wanted to see brothers, sisters, parents or relatives which some of them had not seen since the end of the war or at least since the wall had gone up.
     I visited a lady supporter in the north and stayed with her overnight. At 4:30 in the morning we were awakened by the doorbell—when she opened, her niece and her husband stood there- they had not seen one another since 1961. What a hallo and Wiedersehen this was! What an insight I gained in those few short hours, as the effects of Germany's division were brought home to me one more time in all its tragic consequences. I soon took my leave, after many a moist eye and shed tear, and drove off into the beautiful and clear Saturday morning. The sun was rising over a Germany which was pouring out of its houses and cities towards the border areas. Soon traffic slowed to a crawl. Every time a "Trabi" came into sight, there was honking of horns and joyous waving and flicking on and off of lights by just about everybody. The Germans of the West responded with flowers, and soon brass bands, at the border. Naturally, the visitors were hungry and tired, having often waited in lines up to 15 kilometers deep for twelve hours.
     Soon, huge tents sprang up as if by magic, Each visitor from the "East" got 100 Deutsche Marks to start with and the old German penchant for creating order out of chaos took hold. Food, sausages, buns, soft drinks, and beer were made available. Schools opened their gymnasiums, churches opened church halls; by Saturday afternoon, as I made my way across my native land, driving parallel north-south along the "Inter-Zonal Border" region, the German Emergency Service network was unfolding.

For a while I had feared that "democracy" might have destroyed this one German characteristic as well—but no—by 3 o'clock that Saturday afternoon, the efficient and cool voices of youngish German border patrol and emergency services personnel could be heard over the shortwave radio that although the city was "schwarz mit Menschen" —a saying meaning the city was "crowded to the gills" — all was running smoothly.
     I picked up a call by one border post, to move up the "truckloads of roadmaps" to the "holes in the wall". Soon this was done, and when I got towards Gottingen, Kassel, and Frankfurt, regular convoys of "Trabis," surrounded by their traditional pale blue cloud of smoke, were moving along the Autobahns, accompanied by the usual light-flicking and horn honking.
     What then followed on Germany's airwaves and newsstands was nothing short of amazing. The same media which for forty years had coldly forecast an "eternal" or "ewige" German Division was now abuzz with commentaries about the coming "Wiedervereinigung" or German "Reunification".
     The vassals installed with their regimes in East and West desperately tried to stem the tide of the "primordial" burst of joy and expectation. It became obvious that the people of Germany once again were ahead of their political masters inflicted upon them by their respective "friends" in East and West.
     Without a doubt, the radio broadcasts emanating from East Germany (actually Central Germany, since the Poles, Russians, and Czechs presently occupy vast stretches of German territory) were the most interesting. I was riveted to the radio and listened to speaker after speaker at some East German Communist Party "Revival-style Meeting" in Leipzig, where speaker after speaker, all of them young, eloquent and with a beautiful and carefully chosen phrase or two, took the old "Bolsheviks" to task for their corruption, terror, misrule, and heartless behavior. All speakers, except one old apparatschik who still insisted on wanting to defend communist morality and ethics and who was promptly booed and hissed into silence, wanted change, freedom, secret ballots, more social justice, more openness in government, and all gave their name, their age, their profession and where they were from.
     I was astounded! I had never in my entire political career heard such controlled anger and fury expressed anywhere! That, to me, was a typically "German Revolution". There was no call for manning of the barricades, no storming of the bastilles. Here in this City of Leipzig, Communists—German Communists, were "letting it all hang out".
     Then I turned to another station. This time I heard East Germany's new leader, a rather Jewish-looking son of a tailor from Koehlberg, Egon Krenz, speak. He was a good and forceful speaker and gave what I thought under the circumstances a very good account of himself and how he intended to improve things, and explained why the border was finally opened.
     One interesting East German broadcast I monitored was an interview with a captain of the "Volkspolizei", or Vopos; he was asked if it was true that the East German "Volksarmee" had been put on alert to quell the demonstrations, numbering by then in the hundreds of thousands, in Leipzig and Dresden and in other cities, He said that certain elements had been trying to arm themselves, and that about 300 weapons had been stolen from the garrison of the "Volksarmee" in Leipzig but that the police, and not the army, had the job of controlling internal unrest, that the Army would be loyal to its oath and function and not fire on the citizens of the "DDR", which is the present name of East Germany, Loud and prolonged applause greeted his remarks!
     Then there were news reports of the political party bosses of Halle and Erfurt committing suicide by shooting themselves, which in turn prompted one German newspaper's banner head- line, "Bunkerstimmung in der Zone" ("Bunker mood in the (Soviet) Zone"), alluding to the alleged events in Hitler's Bunker in 1945 in Berlin.

The air was charged with a potential for something big to happen: Revolutions have begun against such backgrounds. I instinctively thought back to the Hungarian Revolution in 1956 but realized that this time the Soviet tanks would not roll, because the impulses for this peaceful revolution now taking place had originated with the Russian leader Gorbachev. This time the Communist leaders had only their own apparatus, their own secret police, their own terror system and torture chambers to rely on— and, true to form to all illegitimate, externally imposed systems, it became each man out for his own skin.
     Apparently, Honecker, East Germany's long-time leader, had ordered the Army to do what they had done in 1953, to brutally put down the demonstrations in a "Chinese style massacre" but found no one willing to give, much less to execute, the order to shoot thousands. When he failed, he was ousted by yet unclear means, some even say by pressure from Moscow!
     Egon Krenz, the long-time favorite of Honecker, took over, now there are investigations afoot against him, it is reported. Some high- ranking political "mummies" have already resigned. East German party officials, apparently armed until now, have been ordered by the new government to turn in their weapons. The dreaded "Staatssicherheitspolizei", in short "Stasi", has allegedly been disbanded; frankly, I think 'renamed' would undoubtedly be a better term.
     Negotiations are going on between East and West Germany which could lead to an easing of tensions and further improve things. All this, however, has a shadow-side to it, "eine Schattenseite", as the Germans would say, and that is that the West German puppet state inherited a totally undeserved image-improving windfall, Furthermore, outright German traitors Uke Willy Brandt [a former mayor of West Berlin, a former Federal Chancellor, the author of Deutsche und andere Verbrecher {Germans and Other Criminals) after he fled from Germany and sought refuge in Norway, contributor of German-bashing articles to the U.S. media during WWII, and alleged collaborator of the CIA in post-war Germany!], who for years did the bidding of their Allied masters, were given a totally undeserved lease on life. Suddenly, these "political cadavers" who had faded into political insignificance had the cheek to use words like "German nation," "German unity," etc., and then gave speeches to the multitudes. Thank God, at least Helmut Kohl was whistled down in a 25-minute "Pfeifkonzert" (whistle concert) in Berlin!
     However, the trend of history is for German unity. These political fossils win just play an interim role!—Upon reflection, I think they might actually be quite useful for the moment, for they can go and calm the likes of Bush, Thatcher, and Mitterand with their beseeching of "Western European Unity," with their talk and reassurances of "Kein Deutscher Alleingang" ("No single German thrust"), etc. I for one am ever hopeful, optimist that I am, that Germany will shake off its shackles. The occupiers—oops, our friends, will see the light and leave, or "be made go." No country with a healthy economy, a sound economic and social infrastructure, rebuilt by the sweat of its own people's labor, speaking one language, being more or less of common bond and blood, can be kept down forever.
     As America's and Russia's economic, but more especially racial, problems come to the fore, exacerbated by the AIDS crisis looming on the horizon, Germany, as the heart of Europe, will take its rightful place in history once again, American politicians can now choose between forever hitching their stars and their fortunes to the ghetto-dwellers and occupiers of a hapless Palestine, or to come clean, to do what would be right for America's future, to help undo the effects of Yalta, Teheran and Potsdam, In short, America can now, belatedly, call off its continued war against Germany by stopping its lies in the media and by curtailing the hatred fostered for so long against my own people.
     The opportunity is there—I doubt that Bush is free enough to take it! Poor America—so free and yet such a slave!