Friendly Enemies tells a fascinating story of Cold-War relations across the east-west divide from 1949 to 1990. On the surface, the United Kingdom and the German Democratic Republic (GDR) never developed a close relationship: too deep were the political and ideological rifts between the two “friendly enemies” and too dominant was the presence of a third partner, the Federal Republic of Germany. Yet beneath the level of high diplomacy, a host of contacts were made—even before the GDR was officially recognized in 1973. In their meticulously researched new book, Stefan Berger and Norman LaPorte uncover how political parties, parliaments, trade unions, peace movements, churches, towns, friendship societies, teachers and academics, and trade and tourism organizations tore often barely visible holes in the Iron Curtain.
While the political gains for the GDR—international recognition and propaganda opportunities—seem obvious, the intriguing question is what motivated British democrats to engage with the East German dictatorship. It is true that British diplomats and political leaders never warmed to their counterparts in East Berlin. Initially, the United Kingdom was committed to the western strategy of isolating the GDR. Yet after 1955 it took a more pragmatic stance and grew increasingly irritated with the Federal Republic's strict policy of nonrecognition of a state that existed de facto if not de jure. Paradoxically, in the aftermath of the GDR's diplomatic recognition, the regime dropped off the British government's radar, not least because of disappointed expectations for openings for trade and cultural exchanges.
The backbone of support for the GDR in Britain throughout the postwar period came from public figures left of center. Whereas the leadership of both the Labour Party and the Trade Union Congress viewed the GDR with suspicion for most of the time (apart from an interlude during the 1970s), left-wing Labour politicians and trade unionists showed a continuous interest in the East German state. Moved by sentiments of pacifism and “anti-anticommunism,” they proved highly susceptible to East German propaganda that portrayed the GDR as the morally better, “antifascist” Germany. Sympathies for the communist regime and its apparent achievements in social policy went hand in hand with a deep-seated distrust of the resurgent Federal Republic, a state that appeared to be a safe haven for former Nazis.
Labour left-wingers, however, were not entirely blind to the East German regime's faults. While advocating its international acceptance, they at the same time condemned its oppressive character. Notably, the Labour Member of Parliament Richard Crossman cultivated contacts with East Berlin in an effort to “kill communism with kindness.” Berger and LaPorte accredit him with having effectively invented Ostpolitik avant la lettre. Although the abrasive Crossman did not mince his words in conversations with East German officials, the communist regime regarded this connection an important feather in their cap. By contrast, the East Germans had little time for the Communist Party of Great Britain. Not only did they regard the British comrades too independent-minded, but also too marginal in British politics to warrant much attention.
Whereas representatives of the GDR gave British communists the cold shoulder, they launched charm offensives on town councillors and peace activists with the aim of improving the GDR's public image in Britain. The twinning arrangement between Coventry and Dresden that predated the diplomatic recognition of the GDR marked a milestone. While memories of World War II helped to cement the Coventry-Dresden link in the 1950s and 1960s, mutual concern about the escalating arms race led to the conclusion of further town-twinning pacts between East German cities and Labour-run British municipalities (for instance, between Karl-Marx-Stadt and Manchester) in the 1980s. The blatant contradiction between the GDR's official rhetoric of “peace” and its everyday militarism, between its lip service to human rights and brutal oppression of the independent peace movement, was something that perturbed British peace campaigners. They were caught in a dilemma: how could they further the cause of peace in Europe without entering into a dialogue with the official, state-run peace councils, and yet how could they talk with them without snubbing dissident activists?
Friendly Enemies tracks the turns and twists of British-East German relations, especially beyond the realm of diplomatic affairs, and herein lies the strength of this volume. To be sure, Berger and LaPorte are not the first scholars to explore the rich relations between Britain and the GDR, but their duo-graph is the most comprehensive study, covering a wide range of contacts over a period of forty years. Full of shrewd insights, this book combines a skillful synthesis of the existing literature and original research (in no less than twenty-four archives) to enrich our understanding of the complexities of the Cold War in Europe.
