Latest / The History of Germany: Kingdoms, War, and Rebuilding Europe — Fexingo History / The Berlin Wall Falls: A City's Night of Joy and Chaos
Transcript
- Lucas: So we've talked a lot about the division of Germany — the Wall going up in 1961, the Berlin Airlift back in '48. Tonight, we're going to the moment it all comes down. November 9th, 1989. Luna: The fall of the Wall. It feels like one of those days everyone remembers where they were. Lucas: Absolutely. But what's wild is how unplanned it actually was. The East German government didn't intend to open the border that night. It was a blunder — a press conference gone wrong, followed by a crowd pushing through a checkpoint that had zero orders to let them through. Lucas: To set the stage: by 1989, East Germany — the German Democratic Republic — was hemorrhaging citizens. All summer, thousands were escaping through Hungary, which had opened its border with Austria in May. Then in September, East Germans started camping out in West German embassies in Prague and Warsaw. The regime was losing control. Luna: So there was already this sense of unraveling before the Wall even came down. Lucas: Exactly. And the pressure was building at home too. Every Monday night in Leipzig, people gathered for peace prayers at the Nikolai Church, then marched through the streets. By late October, those Monday demonstrations had grown to three hundred thousand people. Chanting 'Wir sind das Volk' — 'We are the people.' Lucas: The old guard, led by Erich Honecker, was totally out of touch. He'd been in power since 1971, and he famously dismissed the changes in the Soviet Union under Gorbachev. But by mid-October, even his own Politbüro had had enough. They ousted him on October 18th, replacing him with Egon Krenz. Luna: So Krenz is trying to calm things down. But it's already too late, isn't it? Lucas: Right. Krenz's whole strategy was to introduce just enough reform to take the steam out of the protests. And that's where the infamous press conference comes in. On November 9th, the Politbüro drafted a new travel law — a slightly more liberalized version of the old one, but still requiring East Germans to apply for permission to leave. It was supposed to take effect the next day. But Günter Schabowski, the spokesman, hadn't been fully briefed. Lucas: In the middle of the press conference, a journalist from Italy asked: when does this go into effect? Schabowski shuffled his papers and said, 'As far as I know, immediately, without delay.' That single sentence changed everything. Luna: Immediately? So the news spread like wildfire. Lucas: It hit the evening news at eight. Within minutes, East Berliners started gathering at the checkpoints along the Wall. The most famous one was Bornholmer Straße, a crossing in the north of the city. The border guards there were completely unprepared. Their orders were still to stop people. But the crowd was growing, and they were chanting, 'Open the gate! Open the gate!' Lucas: The man in charge at Bornholmer Straße that night was Lieutenant Colonel Harald Jäger. He'd been a border guard for decades. He tried calling his superiors, but nobody would give him a clear answer. Finally, at around 10:30, he made the call on his own: he ordered his men to open the barriers. Luna: So it wasn't a government decision — it was one man's judgment call. Lucas: Exactly. And once Bornholmer Straße opened, the other checkpoints followed. At the Brandenburg Gate, the crowds climbed onto the Wall itself. There are those famous images of people dancing on the Wall, chipping away with hammers and picks. But it's important to remember: it wasn't all celebration. There were also East Germans trying to get through to West Berlin — and West Berliners on the other side, cheering them on. Luna: And the guards — they must have been terrified. They'd been trained to shoot anyone trying to cross. Lucas: That's the part that gets me. Those guards were kids themselves, mostly. They'd grown up in the GDR, too. And that night, they had to decide: follow orders or let history happen. Some of them disappeared into their guardhouses and just let the crowd surge through. Others joined in the celebration later. But the fact that no one was killed that night — given the tension, given the weaponry — is remarkable. Lucas: The fall of the Wall wasn't the end of East Germany. Not yet. Reunification would take almost a year, and it was a messy process. But that night, the impossible happened. The border was open. Luna: And it was all because of a bureaucratic stumble. It's almost hard to believe. Lucas: It shows how fragile the whole system had become. A single misstatement, a crowd that wouldn't take no for an answer — and the walls come tumbling down. It's a reminder that history isn't just made by leaders. Sometimes it's made by ordinary people who refuse to go home. Luna: Yeah. Speaking of ordinary people — the folks who listen to this show, who care about understanding these moments. We've been talking about how small decisions can have huge consequences. And in that spirit, we just want to say: if you've been getting something from these conversations, and you're in a position to help, you can support the show at buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. It keeps us ad-free and independent. Lucas: We really appreciate that. And it's not just about keeping the lights on. It's about making sure these stories — the ones that don't make the headlines — get told properly. Like the story of that night at Bornholmer Straße. It's not in most textbooks. Lucas: So, back to the Wall. The next day, people were walking through the checkpoints like it was nothing. Families reunited, some for the first time in decades. And the Wall itself started disappearing — piece by piece, sold as souvenirs. The East German government actually tried to stop the 'wall peckers,' but it was futile. The symbol was already gone. Luna: There's a line I've heard about that night — something about the future being uncertain but the present being joyous. Lucas: There's truth to that. Nobody knew what came next. Would the two Germanys reunite? Would the Soviet Union tolerate it? The euphoria was real, but so was the anxiety. The next months were a rollercoaster: the fall of the Wall, then the opening of the border at the Brandenburg Gate, then the fall of the communist government, and finally, the reunification on October 3rd, 1990. It all happened in under a year. Lucas: But November 9th remains the moment — the night when the Cold War's most powerful symbol cracked. And it wasn't because of an invasion or a treaty. It was because a man at a podium fumbled his lines, and a border guard made a choice. Luna: It makes you wonder — what other turning points in history are hiding in plain sight, waiting for someone to make the wrong call at the right time? Lucas: That's a thought to carry with you. Thanks for being here with us.