This chapter introduces the research design and comparative case studies in Part II of the book. In this part of the book, I present historical case studies of Poland and East Germany. This is the qualitative component of the integrated, multimethod difference-in-difference research design with which I test the theoretical propositions laid out in Chapter 2. The first case experienced a post-Stalinist transition, while the second did not. By carefully tracing developments in elite cohesion and coercive capacity across the two otherwise very similar cases, I demonstrate that post-Stalinist transitions caused reductions in coercive capacity. I do so by showing that trends in capacity were similar across the Polish and East German regimes before 1953; that post-Stalinist transitions occurred randomly and were not themselves a function of coercive capacity; and by tracing the causal mechanisms that linked transitions to declines in capacity.

In this chapter, I explain why the Stasi became the largest and most capable secret police force in Cold War Central and Eastern Europe. The shock of Stalin’s death did not cause a leadership transition and wholesale repudiation of Stalinism in the GDR. Instead, the ruling coalition persisted and purged their rivals after 1953. Walter Ulbricht and his fellow elites survived and persisted in their strong commitment to a harsh, Stalinist regime of repression. This persistence had profound consequences for the security apparatus, repression, and social order. The Stasi continued its growth in capacity to become an all-present repressive force. The story of elite cohesion and coercive capacity in East Germany is one of continuity and growth – unlike that of disruption, collapse, and stagnation in Poland. And as the commitment to surveillance and repression continued unabated in the GDR, the fortunes of regime opponents waned. With a few notable exceptions, dissidents and opponents were isolated and neutralized in East Germany.

A comprehensive assessment of the Fragebogen is presented in the book’s conclusion, including speculation about the enduring effects of denazification on the two German successor states. The unexpected achievements of the zonal screening programs are measured against their many weaknesses and negative results. Consideration is also given to more recent ideological screening projects in different parts of the world, and the historical lessons ascribed to denazification. The book ultimately concludes that despite the many inherent and acquired problems of the Fragebogen screening program, it is difficult to imagine a denazification process that would have been more effective in achieving both the removal of Nazism as a practical political force and the transformation of the beliefs of individual Germans.

Heiner Müller is considered to be not only the most important playwright to emerge from the German Democratic Republic but also the East German playwright most heavily influenced by Bertolt Brecht.Müller “began where Brecht left off,” pushing further along the path of Brecht’s theatrical projects and theories and even taking up projects that had been left unfinished by Brecht himself.In the 1970s, with his “farewell to the learning play,” Müller seemed for a time to be distancing himself from his mentor.And yet the accusation of “literary patricide” sometimes made against him runs counter to the fact that Müller continued his interest in Brecht right up until his death in 1995.Since then, avant-garde theater artists have continued to honor the legacy of both playwrights.

This chapter examines Brecht’s complicated relationship with the German Democratic Republic and its leaders.In 1948, after the end of World War II, Brecht returned to Germany and ultimately settled in East Berlin in the GDR, where he became the artistic leader of the famous Berliner Ensemble, the most influential postwar theater group in the world. However, because of his revolutionary approach to drama and aesthetics, Brecht quickly ran into conflict with East German leaders and had to endure a series of criticisms and accusations against himself and his artistic collaborators. Brecht also sought to democratize and liberalize the artistic and cultural sphere of the GDR. Ultimately, Brecht’s relationship with socialist leaders in the GDR represented a push-pull and give-and-take. Each side had to compromise, and each side received something in return. Brecht received his own theater and the ability to perform plays as he wished, while the leaders of the GDR were able to bathe in the glory of Brecht’s international artistic success.

This chapter examines Bertolt Brecht’s complicated and fraught relationship with his homeland Germany. Brecht was always attracted by the adventure of foreign lands and was particularly fascinated by the cultures of the United States and East Asia. He was devastatingly critical of Germany and its cultural traditions, and during the Hitler dictatorship he was one of the fiercest intellectual opponents of Nazism, producing some of the most articulate and best-known literary and cultural attacks on Hitler’s Third Reich. Brecht also severely criticized what he, together with Friedrich Engels, referred to as “deutsche Misere” (German misery), i.e. the slavish fealty of German intellectuals to political power. However, during the Third Reich and later Brecht also insisted on the hope for a certain kind of German normality and nonjingoistic patriotism that recognized the qualities and achievements of other nations and peoples. For this reason, Brecht’s conception of a national feeling that is also open toward other cultures has the potential to be of use in today’s multicultural Germany.

This article, a personal reflection by the respected Eastern German writer Kerstin Hensel, explores Bertolt Brecht’s significance for the development of East German literature and culture. The socialist regime in East Germany sought to coopt Brecht’s legacy for its own purposes, and by the 1970s and 1980s Brecht had therefore become something of a lifeless classic throughout much of the GDR. However, his approach to theater and writing still had the potential to unsettle and inspire younger writers occasionally, and Brecht had a major influence on some of the most famous East German writers and playwrights, including Heiner Müller, Peter Hacks, and Volker Braun. Hensel shows via a close-reading the way that themes and tropes from one of Brecht’s most famous poems influenced Volker Braun in one of his poems and then Henself herself, who consciously placed herself in the tradition of both of her predecessors.

This chapter examines the Berliner Ensemble, the theater company Brecht and his wife Helene Weigel founded in East Berlin in 1949. It considers Brecht’s desire to create an ensemble to help realize the theoretical positions he had drafted while in exile and the difficulties the Berliner Ensemble faced in its infancy. These included a lack of theater space for a new company in the wake of the devastation of World War II and intense ideological hostility from the ruling party. At times, the problems encountered posed a direct threat to the BE’s very existence, yet it was the quality of its work that ultimately saved it and allowed it to thrive on the international stage.

This chapter argues that that Nazi trials in eastern Germany helped legitimate the emerging Stalinist dictatorship while remaining reasonably fair down until 1950. In forging their new dictatorship, the Socialist Unity Party (SED) relied on a nominal alliance with bourgeois and Social Democratic politicians. This alliance was based in part on a shared interest in punishing Nazi crimnals. Nazi trials in the East helped the SED identify and eliminate unreliable personnel among prosecutors and judges. More importantly, it helped craft and cement the justification for the new police state, by rationalizing denunciations to the new secret police (the Stasi) while criminalizing denunciations to the former secret police (the Gestapo). At the same time, these trials retained important due process protections for defendants. And, if Soviet complaints are to be believed, there were far more acquittals and modest punishments than the communists wanted. After the founding of the German Democratic Republic in 1949, though, this changed. In the so-called Waldheim trials of 1950, the prosecution of Nazi criminals became a classic example of authoritarian justice, with pre-determined outcomes and no due process. But this was a result of the new dictatorship, not its cause.