Imagining Richard Wagner: The Janus Head of a Divided Nation‪.‬

Over the course of its turbulent history, the German nation has defined itself time and again in terms of a constructed Other. The Other--depicted variously as a political, ideological, or racial opposition to the existence of the imagined German Self--has served as a common enemy against which the nation can unite, essentially a vehicle for promoting national spirit. Discussing the historically exclusive nature of German nationalism, Christian Joppke observes, "the German concept of nation thus became more like a weapon than a unifying symbol, the property of some but not of others." (1) Implicit in this is the perception of an enemy within, a construct of nation in which Self and Other are two sides of the same coin. Thomas Mann famously asserted in 1945 that one could not speak of two separate Germanys, an evil one represented by Hitler and a good one that encompassed Kultur. (2) Yet as the Cold War progressed, identity-formation processes were dependent on narratives of separate Germanies: Germany as oppressed and oppressor, as perpetrator and jury, and, most obviously as East and West. The political scientist John Keane notes that "crises are times during which the living do battle for the hearts, minds and souls of the dead," an observation that is pertinent here. (3) Uniting the various postwar definitions of nation, as intimated by Thomas Mann, was the shared cultural heritage, which inevitably emerged as a focal point in the ideological combat of the Cold War. Amid the abject poverty in Berlin in 1946, an incredulous cultural correspondent from Time magazine revealingly acclaimed the city as "the current theatrical and musical capital of Europe," noting that "theaters with their roofs blown off and their walls caved in are housing productions ... that would shame a good deal of the stuff shown on Broadway." (4) Birthdays and anniversaries of Germany's dead musical luminaries were seized upon as nation-building and propaganda opportunities; in both East and West numerous "commemorative years" (Gedenkjahre) and other smaller festivals were organized to honor, and exploit, the pantheon of Germany's cultural heroes. The 200th anniversary of Bach's death in 1950 gave rise to a year-long series of festivities; a Beethoven-Gedenkjahr to celebrate the 125th anniversary of the composer's death followed in 1952, and commemorative celebrations for Schubert, Schumann, Mozart, and Handel followed in quick succession. (5)