The facts that Roman and Valentina Schneider were not a burden on anyone, but diligently worked for the benefit of the agricultural sector of their new homeland, that their eldest son was an straight-A student at school, and that their youngest daughter hardly spoke Russian, made absolutely no impression on the officials. Under strict police control, with a minimum of belongings, they were taken to Hanover Airport and put on a plane bound for Moscow. Then their path lay to Khakassia, to their "small homeland," where in 1941 Roman Schneider's parents were deported from the Volga simply for being Germans.
Another case, in which events, though not taking such an inhumane turn, also gives food for thought. The family of my good acquaintance Viktor Gettel, having set their sights on moving to Germany and waited for it for five years, recently received not a long-awaited invitation, but, alas, an official refusal to grant them the status of late resettlers.
Both of these and hundreds of similar everyday stories are united, essentially, by one and the same thing: insufficient knowledge of the German language among ethnic Germans, in the opinion of officials, which was revealed either during a language test, as happened with the Gettel family, or already in Germany, at the time of a second test, as happened with the Schneider family.
Truly, to make such 'fateful' decisions, one must be very poorly versed in the history and current problems of 'Russian' Germans, in order to dare to reproach and accuse them of poor knowledge of their native language and loss of traditions inherent to 'true' Germans. Of course, one could organize some kind of 'literacy classes' for those officials of federal agencies who handle applications from late resettlers from countries of the former Eastern Bloc and, above all, from post-Soviet republics, where they would be popularly told about the mass deportation, the ban on choosing a profession, place of residence, education, and the ordeal of the 'Russlanddeutsche'. But probably, it is simply not needed by anyone, and therefore German officials approach their blood brothers and sisters arriving from places of 'eternal' Stalinist exile with the same yardstick as if they, say, were born and raised somewhere near Berlin and were moving to Bremen.
Of course, honor and praise to those among them who managed to preserve the cultural heritage of their ancestors, customs, and religion. But for the most part, 'Russian' Germans during the years of total genocide thought not at all about preserving their customs and dialects, but about how to survive. Of course, during the years of the so-called stagnation and during the reign of Mikhail Gorbachev, the life of Germans, if it improved, was only slightly. As in the times of the 'leader and luminary of all times and peoples' Comrade Stalin, they were subject to a mass of tacit prohibitions. As before, any scoundrel could, virtually with impunity, mutter or shout in their faces: 'Damn fascists!'
And yet, the vast majority of my acquaintances did not renounce their German surnames. And, to be completely frank, the phrases 'German worker,' 'German doctor,' 'German mechanic' sounded like a kind of assessment of conscientiousness, quality of work, and respect from others. Therefore, when some try to portray the life of the Russlanddeutsche in the former USSR as some endless series of insults, humiliations, and torments, I allow myself to disagree with them. It would be more accurate to say that life there was not easy for them, but they preserved their Germanness. Some to a greater extent, some to a lesser extent.
Quite recently, the Federal Government Commissioner for Resettler Affairs Jochen Welt (SPD) spoke about the results and prospects of language exams, which have become the alpha and omega of moving to Germany for 'Russian' Germans. Reminding that the test is absolutely legal and serves as the basis for obtaining resettler status, he particularly emphasized that the main purpose of the exam is to help Aussiedler find work. That is, it was introduced solely for their own benefit and happiness. And they, unreasonable, are complaining.
Along the way, Jochen Welt reported that the level of language knowledge among those arriving in recent years is lower than among those who arrived, say, at the turn of the 90s. He also admitted that the introduction of the exam in 1996 scared away many potential resettlers – no more than 60% of those invited show up for the tests, and only about two-thirds of those admitted pass the exam.
Having talked with friends and acquaintances, read and listened to official announcements, I can say that the test is a kind of free-form conversation on relatively simple everyday topics or a schematic retelling of short literary works read on the spot. There is no 'approved from above' list of questions. However, in each individual case, an exam protocol is kept, which notes the degree of the examinee's language proficiency: did he answer on his own or were prompting questions required? How did he answer – with a monosyllabic 'yes' or 'no,' or expansively and logically?
Grammar mistakes by those taking the exams are not given much attention, but the examiners are pleased if they use old German words in their answers, which few people in 'continental' Germany remember today, use expressions of German dialect, know national traditions, holidays, can sing a song or tell a joke from the time of the Thirty Years' War. This happens because it is extremely important for the examiners to determine whether the language was learned by those applying for relocation, or whether they acquired it in early childhood, inheriting it from their parents.
Those who want to reduce the processing time of their documents to a year and a half (and this procedure usually lasts today an average of 4-5 years) are given the opportunity to take the so-called qualified German language exam. And this is not easy, because all members of the departing family take such an exam, except for children aged ten and under.
According to official information, today 30% of “Russian” Germans arriving in Germany meet the requirements of paragraph 4 of the Federal Law on Resettlers, that is, being German by nationality, they passed the language exam. The remaining 70% of arrivals are members of their families, who did not need to take the exam.
Ten years ago, this picture looked exactly the opposite, which is why government officials are introducing all sorts of strictures. True, a number of well-known figures in the Russlanddeutsche community have repeatedly appealed to the German government with proposals to make an exception for married couples in which both husband and wife are Germans and to exempt them from taking the language test. In addition, to lower requirements for those married couples in which the husband is German and the wife is of a different nationality. Presumably, this was proposed by analogy with the situation that existed during the period of total deportation of Russlanddeutsche, when together with German husbands, their non-German wives were sent to the labor army, while German women who had husbands of other nationalities avoided this bitter fate. By the way, in subsequent years, various prohibitive verdicts of the Soviet authorities – on place of residence, work, study, etc. – did not apply to them. But all these appeals first to Bonn and then to Berlin, as far as I know, have gone unanswered.
According to Jochen Welt, his department is doing everything possible to completely eliminate cases of people being deported "due to discovered large gaps in their spoken language." To this end, not only the language exam but also the admission permit (Aufnahmebescheid), which is issued after an interview with a responsible official (a kind of another unofficial exam on knowledge of language and traditions), will now be issued in the CIS countries.
Those who did not pass the language test may, within four weeks, appeal the commission's decision by sending a letter to the Federal Administrative Office. However, appealing its repeated negative decision is possible only in the Federal Administrative Court, which, I note, is not cheap, and the chances of success, as practice shows, are approximately zero.
Except for cases of illness during the exam, the test cannot be retaken. The department's position here is as follows: the test is a check of the candidate's compliance with the conditions for their lawful admission to Germany. And these conditions either exist or they do not. There can be no repetition here.
Such is the position of responsible officials. It cannot be denied logic. However, from a purely human and historical perspective, it looks somewhat strange and one-sided. Moreover, the actions of officials clearly contradict the speeches given by prominent politicians, as well as German Chancellor Gerhard Schröder. In particular, he repeatedly stated that without an influx of foreigners, the social and demographic situation, and therefore the economic future of Germany, looks very bleak. Conclusion: Germany needs foreigners, but Russlanddeutsche who did not pass the exam for Germans and therefore were classified as foreigners – no.
In the family of my acquaintance Viktor Getel, there are two sons and a daughter. In about ten years, they could well become part of that very "deficit labor resource" that German politicians lament today. And Viktor himself, a man of exemplary diligence, possessing six (!) trades, would surely find employment in the land of his ancestors. But none of this will happen, because German Getel, born in places of exile, has a poor command of the German language, which he was forbidden to speak as a child. And therefore, according to the logic of German officials and laws, he cannot move to Germany.
Yakov BERDICHEVSKY.
"Russkaya Germaniya"