Johanna-Yasirra Kluhs, Aurora Rodonò, Fabian Saavedra-Lara, Nesrin Tanç (eds.) StrzeleckiBooks What we can relate to. Interkultur Ruhr 2016-2021 Johanna-Yasirra Kluhs, Aurora Rodonò, Fabian Saavedra-Lara, Nesrin Tanç (eds.) What we can relate to. Interkultur Ruhr 2016-2021 "In the implications of the Farsi term ['fara], culture is moving over or beyond all political and geographical borders." Khosrou Mahmoudi & Pejman Shakib Pangaea Ultima ist ein möglicher Superkontinent der Zukunft. Pangaea Ultima is a possible future supercontinent configuration. Table of Contents 4 What we can relate to. Johanna-Yasirra Kluhs, Aurora Rodonò, Fabian Saavedra-Lara, Nesrin Tanç 8 Africa Positive – Deconstructing the Image of Africa Veye Tatah 14 Afrodiasporic Engagement in Hamm In conversation: Yemi Ojo and Emmanuel Thethika (Yes Afrika e.V.) 20 A call from the theatre of the future Julia Wissert 24 Call it by any name… from ‘Multikulti’ to ‘Diversity’ Madhusree Dutta 32 Can you imagine how much work it involves? In conversation: Amela Halilovic, Erwin Rosenfelder 40 Coal, Culture, Critique Forms of commemoration as anti-racist praxis in a post-migrant society Ayşe Güleç 46 Different terms, but similar feelings In conversation: Ana Maria Sales Prado, Tijen Atkaja, Miriam Yosef, Fatima Çalışkan 54 Enduring the uncertainty In conversation: Sandy Brede (acting in concert) 60 A fairy tale called Roma Theatre Pralipe Nedjo Osman 66 Fighting on 72 In conversation: Milena Yolova and Lajos Gabor (Romano Drom e.V.) Finding other languages In conversation: Georg Kentrup (Consol Theater) 78 The goal was clear In conversation: Christian Wagemann, Rahim Darwisha 84 Table of Contents 5 “Her name is FasÍa. It's a Vai name, you know?” How Fasia Jansen's life stages can be viewed from a Black German perspective Princela Biyaa, Marny Garcia Mommertz 92 The history of racist violence, between structural racism, political mourning and the struggle for civil rights An oral history perspective Bengü Kocatürk-Schuster, Ceren Türkmen 102 Bir Zamanlar Ruhr Fatih Kurçeren 114 / 206 Hüseyin Çölgeçen: from Ortadoğu to Oberhausen Yasemin Çölgeçen, Aylin Kreckel 128 Inverting the invisible In conversation: Adem Köstereli, Wanja van Suntum 138 The Kanakisation of Culture Engaged culture work in a postcolonial migration society Tunay Önder 148 Life on Planet Germany Ina Holev, Miriam Yosef 160 Multilingualism: Evidence of Sociolingustic Super-Diversity in the Ruhr Valley Bridget Fonkeu 168 The Nest of the Greeks Miltiadis Oulios 178 Shaping the voids 192 In conversation: Eva Busch (atelier automatique), Guy Dermosessian (Kalakuta Soul Records) and Abdou Diamé (Teranga Bochum e.V.) Taking home outside In conversation: Marisa Álvarez, Virginia Novarin and Josué Partida (Fest der Toten) 198 Table of Contents 6 That I thought I had to keep on going Lütfiye Güzel 205 We Don’t Need Any More Guidelines! Talking About the Future Prasanna Oommen & Ella Steinmann in conversation with Aurora Rodonó 220 Whenever we touch on the future, the past comes up In conversation: Ayşe Kalmaz, Alican Tazegül 230 We saw ourselves as part of the solution In conversation: Tareq Alaows 240 “You set the tempo” In conversation: Zekai Fenerci (Pottporus e.V.) 246 | Çeviri | Mεταφράσεις | Übersetzungen | Prevodi | Prijevodi | Traduçãos | Traducciones | Traductions | Translations 252 Index Interkultur Ruhr 2016-21 304 Diverse, sustainable, cosmopolitan In conversation: Karola Geiß-Netthöfel 312 Make, show and network [or: Clear the stage, spotlight on, eyes and ears open!] Sineb El Masrar, Dietmar Osses 314 New potentials for action Apostolos Tsalastras, Jörg Stüdemann 316 Imprint & Thank yous 318 Printed Version 7 Johanna-Yasirra Kluhs, Aurora Rodonò, Fabian Saavedra-Lara, Nesrin Tanç (Hrsg.) StrzeleckiBooks StrzeleckiBooks Worauf wir uns beziehen können. Interkultur Ruhr 2016-2021 ISBN: 978-3-946770-89-3 interkultur.ruhr What we can relate to. Johanna-Yasirra Kluhs works as a freelance programme and production dramaturge in the Ruhr region and beyond. She works on performances, establishes groups and co-initiates festivals with various collectives, directors and choreographers. She co-curated the regional Interkultur Ruhr cultural programme from 2016 to 2021. Aurora Rodonò is the diversity manager at the Rautenstrauch-Joest-Museum in Cologne, a lecturer at the University of Cologne and a freelance cultural worker. In her academic and curatorial praxis she connects art, science and activism. In May 2017 she was involved in the implementation of the “NSUKomplex auflösen” tribunal (Schauspiel Köln). Fabian Saavedra-Lara is a curator in the context of media art and digital culture. He (co-) curates exhibitions, conferences and festivals. Since 2013 he has been the director of the office of medienwerk.nrw – a network of organisations from the field of media art and digital culture in North RhineWestphalia. He co-curated the Interkultur Ruhr programme from 2016 to 2021. Nesrin Tanç is a literature and cultural researcher and author. Her thesis focused on the literary and cultural scene of the Ruhr region in the 1970s. She creates artistic platforms in order to promote the celebration of cultural heritage and cultural studies research, especially between Turkey and Germany. She co-founded Kunst- und Kulturstudien Duisburg (KUKST DU e.V.) with Johanna-Yasirra Kluhs. Johanna-Yasirra Kluhs, Aurora Rodonò, Fabian Saavedra-Lara, Nesrin Tanç 9 This book is a journey into a future that has, in fact, been a reality for some time: the society of the many is now a normality. We, the co-editors, put marginal, so-called “intercultural” art and culture centre stage with a broad spectrum of essays, discussions, comments, memories, plans for the future and a photographic essay created especially for the book by Fatih Kurçeren. The publication marks the conclusion of the first phase of the Regionalverband Ruhr’s project Interkultur Ruhr. As the successor to the European Capital of Culture RUHR.2010’s “City of Cultures” theme, the project has been working with migrant self-organisations, independent initiatives and activists from cultural institutions, as well as representatives from politics and administration, to create a more diverse cultural landscape in the Ruhr region since 2016. When Johanna-Yasirra Kluhs and Fabian Saavedra-Lara began their work as the co-curators of Interkultur Ruhr, the “summer of migration” was still very present, having taken place just months before. Hundreds of thousands of people from Afghanistan, Eritrea, Iraq, Iran, Nigeria, Pakistan, Somalia and Syria, among other places, fought for their right to freedom of movement, crossed the Mediterranean, broke through fences and barbed wire and in doing so thwarted the logic of sealing off borders and surveillance. Since then, the reinforcement of border controls, contraventions of the law through refusing entry, and daily deaths in the Mediterranean have all continued. The brutal way in which the unfinished wars in Afghanistan are being dealt with has made things even more clear. The public debate around taking in fellow international citizens has revealed structural racism, which can be traced back through the history of the Federal Republic of Germany and its predecessor states. But a tightening of migration regimes is not the only thing to be observed since 2016. Long-term antiracist movements by Black people and People of Colour in particular have also gained visibility and vehemence. In the first six years of the project, it became more than clear how deeply ingrained racist discrimination is in the art and culture sector. But also that knowledge – often migrant and Black-situated – is available to end this violence. The metropolitan Ruhr region is one of the most diverse in Europe. Right from the beginnings of industrialisation in the nineteenth century, people with migration backgrounds have founded initiatives, structures and self-organisations, performed or produced artistic works in the Ruhr region – often with little money and lots of unpaid dedication. It is precisely these protagonists who have been developing and demonstrating paths of emancipation, empowerment and resistance against discrimination and racist violence for decades. This book brings together diasporic, migrant, Johanna-Yasirra Kluhs, Aurora Rodonò, Fabian Saavedra-Lara, Nesrin Tanç 10 Jewish, Muslim and queer positions in the form of a multidirectional work of remembrance and vision, and presents a small number of those who were expanding and co-financing the culture and history of the region as citizens decades before the current debates on diversity and pluralism began. Paradoxically, this story is rarely to be found in the region’s historical and cultural institutions. Immigrant culture is not niche. It is regionally and transnationally interwoven with global social movements and political struggles. In order to be able to imagine other presents and futures, or even cultural history and a culture of remembrance, we have to know what is available for us to draw on. Which ways of life and imaginations have already been developed, tested out again, and ultimately brought back into everyday life? On route 1, with Johanna-Yasirra Kluhs and Fabian Saavedra-Lara, we encounter initiatives and protagonists who live and work in different cities of the Ruhr region through thirteen discussions from 2020/21: projects from the Förderfonds, cooperation partners and dedicated colleagues in cultural-political work. Travelling through the region, exchanging positions and appreciating work on the pluralistic cultural reality of the Ruhr region, which often has to assert itself against massive resistance and precariousness, have always been central concerns for Interkultur Ruhr. The collected experiential knowledge of those – past and present – who have advocated for a culture of the many through various artistic and cultural genres is made public and discussed. Fabian Saavedra-Lara met with the (music) curators Eva Busch, Abdou Diamé and Guy Dermosessian, the dramaturge Georg Kentrup, the activists and social workers Milena Yolova and Lajos Gabor, the curator Sandy Brede, the musicians and artists Marisa Álvarez, Virginia Novarin and Josué Partida, the musician Yemi Ojo and the project coordinator Emmanuel Thethika, as well as the art director Zekai Fenerci. The thoughts of the researchers, art and culture workers Tijen Atkaya, Fatima Çalışkan, Ana Maria Sales Prado and Miriam Yose/Salon der Perspektiven, the filmmaker Ayşe Kalmaz and geriatric nurse Alican Tazegül, the author, therapist and festival initiator Amela Halilovic and the volunteer Erwin Rosenfelder, the theatre producers Wanja van Suntum and Adem Köstereli, the activist Tareq Alaows and the sociocultural workers Rahim Darwisha and Christian Wagemann become accessible through discussions with Johanna-Yasirra Kluhs. Pangaea is REAL! On route 2 with Nesrin Tanç, eight authors disseminate knowledge and raise awareness of artistic and cultural practices from the past and the present, demonstrating historic connections to a regional and national cul- What we can relate to. 11 tural history of immigrant society, which stretches back at least to the first years of labour migration in the 1960s. Many of the authors carried out interviews and research of a special kind in response to the omissions in the public archives: in private attics in Germany and around the globe, with people who are multilingual and whose knowledge has not yet been incorporated into historical and cultural institutions. The curator and cultural producer Marny Garcia Mommertz and the educational consultant and cultural worker Princela Biyaa explore the question of how the stages of Fasia Jansen’s life can be viewed from Black German perspectives. With the author and journalist Miltiadis Oulios, we discover aspects of Greek cultural history in Duisburg and the current music scene in the Ruhr region. The aspiring gender researcher and social scientist Yasemin Çölgeçen and the dramaturge and producer Aylin Kreckel describe their perspectives on Oberhausen publisher Hüseyin Çölgeçen as his granddaughters. The actor, director and poet Nedjo Osman reconstructs the formation of the Pralipe Theatre as the first Roma (Rom*nja) theatre company in Europe and Germany and its time in Mülheim an der Ruhr. Veye Tatah, a computer scientist, project manager and editor-in-chief of the magazine Africa Positive, writes about her motivation and the conditions that led to the foundation of the magazine. And the poet Lütfiye Güzel connects us with the idea that we think we have to keep on going from her collection of leaflets Elle-Rebelle. Finally, on route 3 with Aurora Rodonò, we encounter eight authors or author duos who connect theory and praxis, who critically scrutinise intercultural discourses and analyse post-migrant struggles and alliances. These researchers, activists and cultural workers champion migrant society and call out racism. They imagine a future in the here and now, in which the dichotomy between a so-called dominant society and its supposed minorities is overcome. They look for new solidarities that embrace difference. In various written forms and modes of expression, such as essays, discussions or reports, they assert the society of the many as a social fact and anticipated utopia. The curator and filmmaker Madhusree Dutta argues for the simultaneity of cultures and against well-meaning diversity policies. The activists and migration researchers Bengü Kocatürk-Schuster and Ceren Türkmen reconstruct the racist attack in Duisburg on 26 August 1984 with the Satır family and connect it to structural racism. The sociologist and curator Tunay Önder calls for the Kanakisation of culture. The researcher, activist and curator Ayşe Güleç draws a link between the history of the Gastarbeiter and the NSU’s racist attacks in the 2000s and reflects on listening as a political praxis. The educational mediators and theorists Miriam Yosef and Ina Holev dream of a Jewish futurism that goes against the grain of white Christian perspectives. The linguist Bridget Fonkeu analyses Routes u Ro te l cal A 3: from the theatre of the 12 fut ure (2 4) – Ca l it by an y me… Po si ti ve na Route 1: A fri ca De c bu t ha si rk it involves? (40) h wo – D iff er e en n i t k i a n T g g – h o me o a te 92) 1 m ( uts i s rm d ide i u o s, v ( yo e 1 l h u o t s i o e 9 n h t t n ( 8 2 f 5 o a ) 0) ng rt – – Pa pi "Y T as ou ha s e s e lv mu c how I te m aw ou e th I had to ke e p o " (2 5 6 ) ht oug th rs e t t un c g ty in ta er st on s me co p go in 05 (2 (6 ) – er nev Whe ig – F 0) htin we touch on the fut u g on (72) – Finding re , ot h er th e pa ( A fairy tale call ed (14) ica ty' (32) – Coal, Culture, CrRiotmi q a u e 'Dive Afrsi T s (54) – End hea(46) – Th ti' toe of ling e hi uri tre ikul fee stor ag ng Mult r P y Im a r m ' o a l t f e li he fro rac mi th pe is – g in ct ru st on 28) – The Nest of the G en (1 Don't Any re ihtayus(168) –icWeEngagemNeened s r r t in MoreksGu(i1delines e v e i D r b ! Tal 78) Ham Super to O spo a king c i i t – m u us Abo od Th oğ ( r ing ut d l 2 f at o a i 0 A t the c ) r I So : O Fu 2 – t m of i ho he nvisib tu o t e C e g r n re c ug le f rti ut en ( ht e : d (2 1 v i n 28 n v 20 I e I E ) ç – ) : – m ) ) 0 – 4 2 W ( s S e s 78 up l to d ha on ep ke ) (205 ng goi la ng u ag e s Ro (6 6) – “ r He me na Route 1 - Past Route 2 – Present Route 3 - Future is t vi ol Vai name, you know? ” ( s a 92) It' a. – sÍ Hü Fa se yi n en c e (… ) (5 2) – Th ki ana e K of Cultu r e ( 1 sation 48) – M u lt il in g ua Çö lg e li What we can relate to. 13 the super-diversity of language in the Ruhr region and proves, by way of many examples, that the Ruhr region is multilingual. Artistic director Julia Wissert depicts the theatre as a living organism and questions its character as a place of democratic negotiation. And the public relations officer and consultant Prasanna Oommen and the diversity development agent Ella Steinmann discuss the im/possibilities of a critical development in diversity that is both structural and sustainable. The texts follow a linear alphabetical order, creating random connotations and constellations. The book followed the triad of past, present and future in its conception – three temporalities that are interwoven and spread over various geographies of the Ruhr region. These layers can be traced in concrete sections on the three routes depicted over the next pages. But we also wish to expressly invite the reader to invent their own routes. This book should be read, shared and read again. Like a book designed to be read aloud, many of the texts gathered here suit the spoken word, whether dialogue or research approaches that are situated and informed by activism. They are part of a regional cultural history that is still being written and which could establish a canon of difference. Just as the realities of Interkultur Ruhr are in a constant state of flux, the conditions and diction in this book should reflect this. Welcome to Almanya! Covers of the Africa Positive magazine. Afrĭca P໑sitive Veye Tatah 15 Deconstructing the Image of Africa Veye Tatah is a graduate computer scientist, project manager and founder of the Africa Positive association. She is the editor-in-chief and publisher of the magazine Africa Positive. She received the Federal Cross of Merit in February 2010 for her dedicated work. Veye Tatah 16 The media is indispensable to our society. The information conveyed creates positive or negative images and attitudes. It is therefore important to report on the African nations in a comprehensive, objective and nuanced manner. The achievement of a balanced image of Africa in Germany and a realistic image of Europe in Africa can, in my opinion, only be advanced through the decolonisation of societies. A shift in perspectives in the media landscape, the economy and politics in the West can create lasting societal change and lead to respectful interaction between Europeans and Africans. As a young girl I lived with my family in Cameroon. I had a good, sheltered childhood. I can say today that, according to the standards of the time, my parents were part of a middle class that put a lot of value on the education of their children. Back then, as we grew up in Cameroon, many young people dreamed of studying in the USA or Europe. This desire stemmed from the positively biased representation of the West in the media as a paradise full of riches. I, too, was a girl who dreamt of this fairy-tale world. One day my dream actually came true. The joy and euphoria that moved me in the direction of Germany did not last long once I got to know the society here better. It was the television reports and dreadful images of Black people that stood out most unpleasantly at first. I also found the questions I was confronted with simply unreasonable. If the media reported on Africa, then it was only about wars, hunger, poverty and disease. On German television it was quite common to see images of skeleton-like Africans, scrabbling for food and gifts thrown down from the back of trucks by Western aid organisations. This kind of representation of Africa was a shock to someone like me, who had lived a sheltered life in Cameroon, with no experience of war or any other kind of catastrophe. I could not identify with it, so I was left with a constant feeling of unease when I saw these degrading images of Africa. To my surprise they were not only to be seen in the media, but also on NGO posters asking for donations. Many NGOs and aid organisations used the faces of Black people for their fundraising activities. There were images of Black children, their eyes large and pleading, everywhere – the intention was to create compassion, to collect money for “poor Africa”. One day, when I was living in Bremerhaven, I went alone to a government office. I can’t remember exactly what I was there to do. At the start the employee was very friendly and engaged in small talk with me – until I handed him my passport. From that moment on he became Route 1 Africa Positive 17 very impolite and unfriendly. I was really baffled, because I didn’t know why his behaviour had changed. Then all of a sudden came the question: “You come from Africa?” I answered proudly and with a smile that I was from Cameroon. He then said he thought I was American, which kind of made sense as there was a US military base in the city at the time. But that evening I began to think about why this employee had treated me so unkindly after finding out I was from Africa. That was my first encounter with everyday racism; it has been my constant companion in Germany ever since. All too often – with or without words – I am made to feel that I don’t “belong” here. In Cameroon I was never rejected or discriminated against because of my skin colour, not even by the white people there. This rejection was a bad cultural shock and I suffered from an inferiority complex for the first time. All of these experiences triggered many questions and doubts in me that have accompanied me for years. Why were only nice, positive images of the West shown in Cameroon back then? There were no photos of white homeless people, or skinheads hunting non-white people through the streets. Perhaps I wouldn’t have decided to emigrate to Germany if I had known beforehand about the reality of life in Europe, which includes racism and the rejection of Black people. My encounters with white teachers in my Cameroon boarding school were very positive. The unfriendliness and rejection here, in Germany, was very confusing and incomprehensible for a young girl like me. Why were people with other skin colours treated so differently by some Germans? So many questions without answers … Through my many encounters and conversations with white Germans, it became clear to me that the biased images of Africa, which are constantly presented by the media, have solidified in their heads and led to prejudices and the rejection of Africans and Black people. Things were expressed in some conversations that not only seemed to be relics of the colonial era, but were simply inhuman: “You people in Africa live in trees,” or “You play with lions and tigers (!) in the yard.” At first I thought people were trying to pull my leg, but in time it became clear that these things were really meant the way they were said. I began my computer science course at Dortmund University in the winter semester of 1992/93. One day I took the tram towards the city and coincidentally sat opposite my maths professor. The first question he asked was which state I came from. I answered: “From Cameroon.” He asked which state of the USA Cameroon was in. I answered that Cameroon is not in the USA, but in West Africa. He looked very surprised. Route 1 Veye Tatah 18 “You’re African?” And I said yes. Then he added: “I thought Africans look strange – not like you.” Then I asked him what strange Africans looked like. I then realised that his view of Africa and its inhabitants may have come from their representation in the media. The professor had simply expected that I, as an African, would look emaciated, hungry and ugly – like the Africans on television. For him, a normal-looking Black woman like me could only be American. Until then I had thought that such perceptions and prejudices about Africans were only rife among uneducated Germans and not among academics. But the professor’s remarks taught me otherwise. The years came and went, the distorted images of Africa in the German media remained. They contradicted the real everyday life in our home countries. Wars and diseases, corruption and catastrophes, or something along these lines – these are the negative stereotypes of Africa in the European media. But Africa does not suffer exclusively, and especially not homogeneously. This misery is contrasted with just as unreal, positive stereotypes, such as laughing children and the pure joy of life, exotic animals, splendid landscapes and unique sunsets. In a nutshell: the Western world’s image of Africa is shaped by pessimism and backwardness on the one hand, and by false romanticism and crude picture-postcard idylls on the other (Tatah 2014: 2). I came to the realisation that this Eurocentric perception, which was still shaped by colonialism, is what led to the one-sided reporting that often presented Africans as nothing but poor and needy. It was not and is not believed that they could have their own agency. On top of that, there is the simplified representation of the African continent as a homogenous unit full of problems, without any differentiation between the 54 countries. One day I decided to publish a magazine with the intention of conveying a more realistic image of Africa. The snag in this idea was that I had never written an article before and, as a student, only had very limited financial means. Nevertheless, I was convinced I had found the right solution. No sooner said than done – Africa Positive was born. In order to publish the magazine, I founded the association Africa Positive with the support of some fellow university students. It was important for me to publish the magazine in German, so I could reach my primary target Route 1 Africa Positive 19 group, namely the German people who only knew the African continent through the media. I looked for a correspondingly provocative name, with the aim of surprising Germans who only knew the “negative Africa” as they picked up our magazine. The consensus at the time was that there was nothing good at all to say about the continent and Africans, because one was “informed” about the catastrophes there on a daily basis. The name of the magazine was also to be its message. The first edition was published in July 1998. Today there are numerous media initiatives that work towards the same goal. The self-awareness of young people here is growing, and the active African diaspora has begun to understand that they have to take the narratives about their countries, cultures and ways of life into their own hands. Access to social media has also benefited this process. Twenty-two years ago we were real pioneers with our magazine Africa Positive and the association, there was nothing comparable, not in Germany and – as far as we know – not anywhere else. We served and continue to serve as a contact point for those seeking help and organise events for political education. It became possible to talk directly with media makers, journalists, politicians, educational institutions, NGOs and those active in civil society. Through this exchange, projects arose such as Journalism in a Global Context (JiGC), a platform that networks journalists from Africa and Europe in order to promote shifts in perspective towards deeper understanding and more balanced reporting. A comparison between reporting then and now, and how Africa-related themes are dealt with, shows that our work – as hoped – has led to changes and a lively discourse. I am therefore confident that development will continue in the right direction, as long as the actors remain in dialogue with one another. References Veye Tatah (ed.), Afrika 3.0: Mediale Abbilder und Zerrbilder eines Kontinents im Wandel, Berlin 2014. Africa Positive, www.africa-positive.de. Journalism in a Global Context (JiGC), www.jigc.media. Route 1 In conversation: Yemi Ojo, Emmanuel Thethika 20 Afrodiaʂporic Engagement in Hamm Fabian Saavedra-Lara (FSL): Dear Yemi Ojo, dear Emmanuel Thethika, can you tell us something about the work of Yes Afrika? Emmanuel Thethika (ET): Yes Afrika was founded in 2013, and we are now in our eighth year. The association has four key functions: education, culture, social and development policy collaboration. The project that we carried out with Interkultur Ruhr intersected with some topic areas within culture, social issues and development politics. Furthermore, the Yes Afrika association is not only active within Germany, but also abroad. We carry out various overseas projects, including in Guinea and Nigeria. Soon we will also be in Mali and other countries too, hopefully. The overseas projects are predominantly about improving the local situation of our fellow human beings in Africa. It is also about building bridges between two continents, so that people with different backgrounds can meet without prejudices. It is about creating a space in which The registered association Yes Afrika has carried out a variety of unique projects since 2013. The association, well over a hundred members strong, also cooperates with other German and overseas organisations working in the core areas of education, culture and development policy collaboration. Yemi Ojo, one of the founding members, manages and leads the association as vice-chair. He has also made a name for himself as a successful musician. Emmanuel Thethika has been involved in the association as a project coordinator for several years, alongside studying law. Route 2 Afrodiasporic Engagement in Hamm 21 people can come face to face with each other without disparity. Yemi Ojo (YO): There are people of over 15 different nationalities involved in our association. Personally, I am mainly involved in the cultural work, with the drumming workshops. In 2019, I started to bring together different people in order to make music, which was a lot of fun. In the same year we also managed to perform in front of over 600 guests at the Afrika Festival in Hamm. For my part, I concentrated a lot on the young people. It is really fun for me to bring these different young people together, to network and to exchange culture. ET: Outsiders always see us as just one cultural association. But you must see that we, as Yes Afrika, do an enormous amount for intercultural collaboration within the association, because we alone have 15 different nationalities in our association. If you are a member of our association, then you learn from the start that you have to reach out to people and learn from each other collectively. FSL: That is a very important thought. Emmanuel, you mentioned the various programme areas before. Could you perhaps tell us a bit about the work in the various programme areas and give us a little more detail about what you do there? ET: Today, for example, an online event will take place as part of a project called Empowerment und Partizipation in der Entwicklungs- politik (Empowerment and Participation in Development Policy). Here we tried to give people who work in the association a stage on which they can make their expertise in development politics accessible to a bigger audience. We also have events in the area of sport: we have an amateur football team that takes part in tournaments. We are currently still the defending champions of the Malteser Cup, as it didn’t take place this year due to the pandemic. In the area of education, we worked together with protected persons last year and the year before. That means we trained them in seminars to become multipliers, who ensure that integration or inclusion is simplified for people here. And then we also have projects abroad, in Guinea, for example. We built up a centre for the reintegration of deported people there, so that these young people with no prospects are not somehow left in a vacuum. With this centre we try to give the young people there a perspective for the future, so that they don’t even have to try to tackle this dangerous route over the Mediterranean to Europe in the first place. Another project is of course the one with Interkultur Ruhr. The drumming workshop is about building a bridge to people through music; it’s also about people trying to get to know the culture of Africa a bit better though music, and creating a kind of synergy so that Route 2 In conversation: Yemi Ojo, Emmanuel Thethika you can talk about it. That was the guiding principle behind the project. YO: We also attach a lot of importance to working with children and young people, especially from socially deprived milieus. So we organise various games evenings and also give private lessons to school children. ET: I think, as Yemi rightly said, you could see last year that projects like these are very important if you want to have a viable society. Through the Black Lives Matter demonstrations, not only in America, but also those that took place here in great numbers, you could see that people still have certain prejudices against Black people. And with a project like this we can really create a space in which people meet, interact, and get to know each other, so that prejudices are broken down and people treat each other better in the future than they do now. FSL: Are you also networked with other initiatives and associations in the region? YO: We are in contact with AfricaTide, Africa Positive and many other organisations and initiatives. ET: There is not only the personal connection between the various organisations here in NRW, we also cooperate with each other in public space. We talk with everyone. And everyone talks to us, too, and we are very happy about that. FSL: I have two more questions. One is a bit of a look back. You said that the association has 22 existed since 2013; Interkultur Ruhr has existed since 2016. If you look back over the last few years, what has changed for you in your work? When we conceived this book, we looked at our project, Interkultur Ruhr, but also at the broader sociopolitical contexts and movements. It is important that politics does not leave the people who seek refuge here behind. ET: My parents arrived in Germany as protected persons in 1994. What I can definitely say looking back now is that asylum policy in Germany back then was very bad. I am happy that now, after 2015, improvements have been striven for and also realised, even if there is still room for improvement. It is important that politics does not leave the people who seek refuge here behind – they must be taken along. And a society must constantly try to do that in the future too, giving people support. YO: The connection between very different people in the association was also good in recent years. At our Afrika Festival last year we had over 600 guests. In Route 2 Afrodiasporic Engagement in Hamm 23 the beginning we had around 20 to 50. And that is from networking, getting to know each other, and also anti-discrimination. Different people come together in order to do something collectively, which reduces these problems. FSL: What are your expectations for the future? What are the goals you’d like to achieve with the association and perhaps also with your next projects? Of course, this is also against the backdrop of living in a time in which many things are very difficult, because we can’t meet in person, unfortunately. ET: I read an interesting phrase in the Süddeutsche Zeitung yesterday, it was: “We haven’t inherited the earth from our parents, but rather borrowed it from our children.” And for me that means that it is very important that we strive more for sustainability in the future. Also, sustainability not only in an economic sense, but especially in a social sense, so that we can really coexist in a better way at some point in the future. That is a matter dear to my heart, which should be more respected in future. FSL: And is there perhaps a concrete project you have in mind? ET: I think of the project Empowerment und Partizipation in der Entwicklungspolitik, as we are trying to get diasporic organisations and actors to create their own events of encounter, point out the problems in these events, and try to develop sustainable solutions with various other stakeholders. As part of this project, a meeting was initiated in which various stakeholders are considering the idea of a communal development committee for the city council of Hamm. FSL: Thank you very much for the wonderful discussion! All the best for the association and your continuing work. Route 2 A call the of the Julia Wissert 25 from tㄝeatre future Schauspiel Dortmund boasts an ensemble of 16 actors, a choral-speaking group, city and production dramaturgy, and a number of other active departments and disciplines. It is open to many different perspectives and facilitates collective theatre on the stage, in the city, and with the city. Route 3 Julia Wissert 26 Visuals: Louisa Robin, Dortmund 2021 We are sitting in the auditorium, looking at the large stage. Where only yesterday almost two hundred people were hopping around the hall during a senior citizens’ ballet class, there are now seats. What was still a hall yesterday has become a classical theatre stage with a curtain and proscenium arch in the space of ten minutes. Like every Wednesday, one of the independent theatre laboratories is rehearsing here. Five young people confidently discuss a scene they have developed with two actors. They want to change the scene and Julia Wissert was born in Freiburg im Breisgau. After her A-levels she studied at the University of Surrey in London and the Mozarteum University Salzburg. She has worked as a freelance director since 2015, with productions that test the boundaries of musical theatre, theatre, performance and audio installations. Wissert has staged plays at the Maxim Gorki Theatre, the National Theatre Brno, the Staatstheater Oldenburg, and the Schauspielhaus Bochum, among many others, and has received several awards for her work. She has been the artistic director of Schauspiel Dortmund since the 2020/21 season. Louisa Robin was born in Bocholt (Borken) in 1995 and completed architecture at the Fachhochschule Dortmund in 2018. She is the production manager at Schauspiel Dortmund and creates freelance in Dortmund, Leipzig and Mainz. She realised the visualisations essay by Julia Wissert. Route 3 a course in technical theatre sets for this A call from the theatre of the future they all have different opinions. The mood is heated, but they manage to find and try out something new collectively. That was our hope when we started to think about New Theatre Dortmund. It should be a place where people deal with discord together and can try out other, better solutions. Ten years after the world was brought to a standstill by the pandemic, I look back now, in 2030, on how we arrived at this point. We didn’t know back then in 2020 if we would achieve the transformation needed: from a stiff, hierarchical institution to an innovative, respectful place for the various people of the urban population. We – artists, technicians, politicians, admin staff, tailors, students and pupils – secretly founded a group with numerous other people who wanted a new form of theatre. Like a rhizome, we grew seemingly invisibly, and in this way we could fantasise, develop and ultimately build. Our initial question was: what role can theatre take on in a society that is in the process of losing its collective idea of society and therefore democracy? Corona forced us all to become sceptical with respect to our bodies, to keep our distance and to develop choreographies of hygiene. The virus made proximity, meeting, physicality and collective experience impossible. A climate of fear and insecurity, seemingly towards anything collaborative, spread. Meeting, being together in a room, developing a production together with performers on a stage, interaction – all of that is what theatre was until that point. But, in order to protect ourselves, we withdrew. Some theatre makers were surprised that their audience moved away, apparently due to COVID-19, but there were also those who had observed how people had been distancing themselves from theatre for years. Others remembered how many people had never been perceived or taken seriously as an audience by theatre. Route 3 27 Julia Wissert 28 We – the group that came together back then – wanted a new form of theatre precisely for this reason. A theatre that is a place of social negotiation, that is more than what takes place on the stage. A place that can be used and is formed – by the people who walk in and out of it. So began a long, strenuous and also painful process. In the beginning there was brainstorming, the generation of ideas and the development of a concrete collective vision of such an organism. We tried, from our different perspectives, to bring together all of the things that no longer worked for us and figure out how we could make them work again in the future. There were artists who spoke about their invisibility in the theatre. They encountered young people who described how they were rendered invisible as an audience. Analytical programmers spoke with senior citizens about the possibilities of the transmission of analogue theatre online – the disability policy network also participated in these discussions. Stage technicians spoke to politicians about the challenge of creating a fair working environment for everyone with different contracts. We discussed, argued, and complemented one another, and collected ideas for many weeks. In the end we had a five-page catalogue of measures, outlining what our theatre of the future would need in order to become an open, radically democratic place. This paper was our map, which we used to develop a way to enable the New Theatre Dortmund to emerge. Now, back in our office, I hear numerous voices on the forecourt. The laughter of my colleagues’ children drifts through the window from the preschool opposite. In the hallway, two technicians discuss who gets to check the solar system on the roof today. The roof has become one of the favourite spots here in the theatre. The rooftop forest, which we built Route 3 A call from the theatre of the future together with Rombergpark, offers an excellent view over the whole city. Since we have benches and tables there, it counts as a park in the middle of the city. (An idea that was conceived and developed by a group of youths.) It is certainly not always easy. It means that we all have to learn, time and again, how to communicate with each other. The management group of four – one person from the technical staff, one person from the city, one person from administration, and an artist – took time to grow. We have become an artistic heterotopia, in which social processes can be tried out on a small scale, before being applied outside the theatre later on. We frequently take advice in order to become better at resolving conflicts with one another peacefully and to better endure discord. Nevertheless, our group has changed continuously over the last ten years. Some have gone and new people have joined the project. We need patience in order to unlearn all of our old working patterns that resurface in stressful moments. We know that the place that we want to create is worth it. In the meantime, we have also connected with schools in Dortmund, so that theatre classes regularly take place within the theatre. Pupils have the chance to get to know all of the professions and stations of a theatre, following an idea for a play to its premiere over the course of a year. One of the pupils was part of the management group. We are in close contact with the adult education centre and the nursing home and have initiated a shuttle service for those who can’t get to the theatre on their own. Our network continues to extend into the city. Anyone who wishes to do theatre can enrol in one of the “labs” or start a new one. In order to facilitate access, these take place both inside the theatre as well as in other locations in the various neighbourhoods. Internally, we have adjusted rehearsal formats for the Route 3 29 Julia Wissert 30 artists from two parts to one long rehearsal, with the possibility of leaving earlier if a show is to be performed in the evening. That is combined with an adjustment of holidays, from 45 days at once to 38 days in summer and 7 days in January. We have noticed that we all organise our energies better and so can ultimately work with one another in a more relaxed way. We are particularly proud of the new building, which was financed by EU funds, funding from various foundations and a small proportion of state provisions. We thus had the opportunity to build an accessible building that is emissions neutral and feeds electricity into the urban network. The fibre-optic cabling enables us to also perform art projects at the interface of game design and theatre. There is a long glass façade, through which those who don’t yet really know all that a theatre can be can get an insight into the theatre and directly onto the stage. We have spaces that can be reserved via the management group and used free of charge. Sometimes the city council meets there with citizens; sometimes it’s a tea party. On the ground floor you walk through the Big Library of Critical Thinking to a café island in the middle. There is free internet, but no obligation to buy anything. Our goal is to make the space, which we are constantly recreating, available. The new building has three auditoriums. The large hall is completely convertible. It can be a classical stage or a large studio stage. We can utilise the whole space or just show things in parts of the space. With the built-in digital technology, we can stage plays that push the aesthetic limits of theatre even further. This has made us one of the most popular theatres for international guest performances, and gives us the possibility of presenting a combination of local productions with both the ensemble and international guests. In Route 3 A call from the theatre of the future this way we are creating important artistic momentum in the region. Sometimes we are a television studio, sometimes a publishing house, sometimes a hackerspace, and sometimes a preschool. We are a living organism that plays, speaks, discusses, dances, learns and unlearns again, and we do all of that collectively with many members of the public. After all these years, we now know that, no matter what we try to be, we are always nascent. The process we have entered into will never be concluded, and our task will always be to develop tools that advance us as a community through artistic processes. In this, we see the potential of theatre to imagine collective futures, to be a space for encounter, and to create connections where there appear to be none. Route 3 31 Madhusree Dutta 32 Call it by any ‫ת‬ame … from ‘Multikulti’ to ‘divers‫ٲ‬ty’ ▒▓░╟Übersetzung p.253╣░▓▒ Madhusree Dutta is a filmmaker, curator, and author. She was born in Jamshedpur, India. She is the former executive director of Majlis, a centre for interdisciplinary art initiatives founded in Mumbai in 1990, where she worked extensively on documentary practices, archive initiatives and solidarity networks of artists. Since 2018, she is the artistic director of Akademie der Künste der Welt in Cologne. This institution was founded in 2012 by the city of Cologne to "activate the capacities of art and public discourse to highlight the potentials of an intercultural urban society". During her tenure as director of the institution, Madhusree has initiated and facilitated various local history projects to propagate that "the local is the microcosm of the inter-locational or inter-cultural". Route 3 Call it by any name… from ‘Multikulti’ to ‘diversity’ First snow. Köln Bonn Airport, December 2017. Photo: Madhusree Dutta The brief of this essay is to write about diversity in the context of my engagement with the Ruhr region, and the experience of presiding over an art institution in Cologne from 2018 to 2021. Apparently, it was a simple enough brief and only required some polishing up of my field notes. Especially since government statutes always remind people like us, who are employed in a position of certain policy- and decision-making within the cultural sector, to be responsive to the cause of diversity. Every year, I need to fill out multiple questionnaires on how my institution is attending to the call of diversity. In this text, I would like to register certain discomforts that I have experienced while filling up these ‘must do’ columns. It comprises certain perceptions of the specific histories of the region, as well as my own ways of thinking, which are deeply related to my own experiences of living in another part of the world. The word ‘diversity’ – in this context that is specific to Germany, and more so to Ruhrgebiet – has developed through a complex trajectory of agendas and ideas over the last centuries. These extend from the accumulation of assets and labour power extracted from colonies to the post-war surge in sourcing and importing migrant industrial labour, to the call for internationalism in the Eastern bloc, to political guilt about colonisation and xenophobia, to the drive for integration in the post-wall era, to the vision of a globalised market Route 3 33 Madhusree Dutta 34 in the late twentieth century, to twenty-first century refugee issues, and so on. The question of how to live together – or, in a pragmatic sense, how to live in a synchronised fashion under one governmental and social system – has been approached at different times under different keywords: decolonisation, anti-racism, Multikulti, diversity, and so on. While trying to write about it I increasingly felt that it should be more about foregrounding the simultaneity of cultures and not about the diversity of cultures. Putting it differently, it should be more about collating and disseminating through many ways of translating, and not about reaching ‘out’. The exercise of reaching out, almost invariably, determines the position of a centre, as a vantage point from which the journey to the margins needs to begin. This, in a certain way, formalises and fixes the territorial and hierarchical positions of lived-in practices: where some people are located is the centre and thus this centre is something that always existed. And where some others are located is considered as the margin and thus something which had come in later in the historical chronology and needs to be assimilated, to be taken in. This mirrors former concepts and categories in area studies, such as ‘Far East’, ‘Middle East’, etc., which were determined by the proximity to Europe, and thereafter became universal standards for mapping. It completely ignores the fact that Frantz Fanon so eloquently explored in The Wretched of the Earth (1961), namely, that “Europe is literally the creation of the third world”. Taking a slight detour from Fanon’s original argument about the de-humanising of colonised natives, I would like to place this quote in the context of arguing how multiple and simultaneous the local cultures have been. Non-white, non-male, non-gentrified, non-Christian, non-classified-as-European cultures are neither off-shoot nor foreign to Europe. Both the chronological and the territorial markings are faulty here. These components have been integral parts in the evolution of the system of signage that are markers of European culture, and are regarded as pivotal to Western modernity. In short, no lived practices, and especially in the case of Western Europe, have ever been monochromatic. A genuine move towards decolonisation therefore also needs to be pursued through a de-structuring of what Europe perceives as the centre or the self. However, the scope of this essay is the contemporary call for diversity, not the history of colonisation and territorialisation. So I would restrict myself to the brief. This introduction was required only to point out that the target groups of the diversity call should not be treated as a bunch of foreigners or interlopers. Route 3 Call it by any name… from ‘Multikulti’ to ‘diversity’ In the span of the last few decades, Multikulti has been proposed as a concept, following the clues from the political promise of decolonisation and cultural assertion of post-colonial articulations. The emergence of cultural studies, foregrounded by figures like Stuart Hall in the 1970s, became some sort of touchstone for the political will to recognise the presence of multiple cultures. In terms of cultural strategies – the emergence of biennales as against the art market, localised archival initiatives as against museum-based displays of colonial possessions, various formations and infrastructures built around Commons as against the privatisation of knowledge, translation initiatives as against the hegemony of monolinguality, etc. – pushed the discourse into the field of practice. Practices commonly considered marginalised have attained, if still in a limited way, a certain visibility. Then, in the last decade, the German State formulated a call for diversity. This call tries to ensure representations of ‘marginalised communities’ in institutions, in state-funded programmes, and in distributions of funds that are earmarked for culture. Unlike the loosely formulated campaign for Multikulti, the call for diversity has been structured around certain evaluation criteria and a few action plans. Our institution, Akademie der Künste der Welt, was founded in 2012 under the same brief. And so was the project Interkultur Ruhr, the publisher of this anthology, in 2016. The call for diversity has a special significance in North Rhine-Westphalia because of its mixed population, which has evolved through aggressive industrialisation since the mid-eighteenth century and then the violent de-industrialisation from the late twentieth century onward, and even after that through the efforts to revitalise the region through land re-use, research establishments, cultural industries, and the platform economy. The region that was valorised and maligned, almost in equal measure, for its filth, smoke, contaminated water, barracked life, football, working-class culture, and robust trade unionism throughout the last century has turned into a land of parks, woods, studios, concert halls, research laboratories, museums, and festivals. But a major part of the demographic still remained more or less the same – a layered population of white German working class, non-German migrant workers, and non-European ‘guest workers’. This former industrial class has become redundant in the post-industrial scenario of the twenty-first century. I suspect that the issue of assimilation has grown urgent now not due to the ethnic or language disparities, but because their productivity needs to be revitalised for newer kinds of production. Certain intermediaries’ efforts and facilities need to be offered to realise this transition. Hence the call for Route 3 35 Madhusree Dutta 36 diversity is not about non-Germans in Germany but actually about a certain category of Germans in contemporary Germany. My interest in the Ruhrgebiet precedes my stint with Akademie der Künste der Welt. I am artistically and politically interested in post-industrial culturescapes. I grew up in an industrial city in India called Jamshedpur. As one of the earliest heavy-industry ventures founded by a local entrepreneur in the colonised subcontinent, it attracted people from diverse ethnic, religious and linguistic backgrounds – my family among them. Half a century later, my engagement with lives in industrial settlements brought me to the Ruhrgebiet. But unlike my home town, the Ruhrgebiet is not one centralised industrial city, but actually a cluster of many small- and medium-size towns. Most of these towns were developed through the nineteenth and early-twentieth centuries around a particular factory or mine, or around a few interdependent industrial units. In earlier times, the workers’ daily routine, living facilities, entertainment – in short, their territory – was marked by the company they were working for: the Thyssen neighbourhood in Hattingen, the Krupp empire in Dortmund, all the coal mines, but also the nearby Ford settlement in Köln-Niehl and so on. These settlements were dotted by kiosks, Trinkhallen (literally meaning ‘drinking halls’), beer gardens, hobby centres, football fields, etc., where workers used to assemble after the work shift. They were the centres of male bonhomie, relaxation, and gossip, and occasionally of initiation into union activities. Most of the times these facilities and the people who assembled there belonged to a particular ethnic group – Turkish, Lebanese, Italian, Greek, Polish, etc. This worked well for the migrant workers, as well as for the management. No drive to diversity was needed to extract the productivity of these people. In fact, the more workers stayed within their ethnicity-based settlements, the easier it was to manage them. Though there had been notable political efforts to mobilise the different sectors of workers in a single factory, or even across different factories, with union-based solidarity, the social and geographical layout of the Ruhrgebiet continued to depend on factory-based territories and sentiments. So you had the Turkish workers in Duisburg or the Polish workers in Bottrop, Herne, or Bochum. Within the radius of their own territories they were at the centre. Their status vis-à-vis the nation state was irrelevant. But now, as factories and mines have ceased to be anchors, a whole lot of peoples with diverse languages, religions, and hair and skin types have come out of their quarters and become a general mass. This, then, is Route 3 Call it by any name… from ‘Multikulti’ to ‘diversity’ Dead blast furnace. Phoenix West, Dortmund, November 2016 Photo: Madhusree Dutta when the question of assimilation becomes important – almost 60 years after this phase of importing industrial labour began. These people, perceived as different and categorised by the official term POC (people of colour), are not fringe people, nor have they lived their lives in Germany in a vacuum. Within their spaces they lived full lives of fear, aspiration, achievement, failure, and creativity. One prime example is Dergi / die Zeitschrift, the journal that was published in Turkish by a literary circle in Duisburg every two months between 1985 and 1993.1 Dergi chronicled lives in the Ruhrgebiet, and should be considered as one of the main sources of local history. It was not a stray or marginalised effort but a central part of the German literary, economic, and political legacy. Initiatives and actions like that need to be recognised as such, and not as practices that are distinct from the ‘real’ or ‘original’ German history. The second issue is of ‘other urbanity’. As a cluster of multi-ethnic, multi-cultural, multi-lingual industrial settlements, and also as a war-ravaged border state, the Ruhrgebiet has developed a specific urban culture. This is distinct from the urbanity of cities that have been seats of political power and centres of knowledge accumulations, and thus, in some sense, are landlocked – cities like Berlin, Munich, or Cologne. Some signs of this different urbanity still lie in abundance in the region’s lowbrow entertainment locales – tabletop dance halls, tattoo parlours, tanning salons, public baths, shanty cinemas, etc. – and in its many histories of street battles, some fought for honourable Route 3 37 Madhusree Dutta 38 and some for not-so-honourable reasons. As the region determinedly moves towards revitalisation by ushering in a more gentrified version of urbanity, a sense of redundancy and melancholy is setting in in certain pockets. It will require a different policy approach to address this melancholy. A standardised national policy may not work. Moreover, when a settlement or people are relegated to the margins, they also get homogenised / flattened. The presumption is that the centre is made up of a lot of different layers. But the margins would be simply monolithic. This personally bothers me a lot, as I come from a country (India) where one sixth of the world population lives. Yet when people like me visit Europe as artists, we are often asked to prove how ‘Indian’ our works are. As if it is possible for there to be one kind of ‘Indianness’ for a population of 1.3 billion people; as if works from India must appear Indian, and cannot be evaluated in terms of other parameters such as ideology, form, technology, and imagination. Margins are supposed to be on the slope, and hence must be kept thin and flat to maintain balance. Whereas the centre is the tabletop, where different layers of reality can accumulate vertically. This is how art institutions such as ours are expected to present communities from the margins – unicellular victims, without many contradictions and inner conflicts. Generic events like ‘Arab music festival’ or ‘Mediterranean food festival’ may fulfil the diversity protocol of the state, but they are unlikely to make any impact at either end. Power structure is a ladder, and it repeatedly gets replicated as our lives expand outwardly – first in the family, then in the community, then in the peer group, then in the country, then in the world … Art is mandated to fight the status quo in each of these registers. But when the institutions with resources and visibility appoint themselves as mediators between a community and the general public, they often end up producing newer status quos. Certain evolved and articulate people become the star representatives or self-professed guardians of a community, and thus occupy the centre position by making newer margins within the community. For example, the struggle for freedom of sexuality and trans rights within homonormative society, or the resistance to certain right-wing nationalist tendencies (especially in regard to one’s country of origin) within immigrant communities, or the class conflict between those who have already entered European territory and those who are trying to cross the border now – such tensions are common in any pocket of urban life. They are inherent contradictions, but also signs of plurality, and the reason for the call for intersectionality. Route 3 Call it by any name… from ‘Multikulti’ to ‘diversity’ When Industries make place for culture. Dortmund, November 2016 Photo: Madhusree Dutta These intersectionalities need to be recognised and provided visibility. This is a complex process that requires nuanced and sometimes extremely stressful negotiations. The simpler would be foregrounding certain brilliant, beautiful, angry, and articulate POC individuals who can eloquently play the victim card and provide a cathartic release for white guilt. This phenomenon is well known by now as the flip side of identity politics. A commitment to many cultures needs to continuously balance between all these registers through complex and open-ended processes. It is unlikely to be addressed by designing more and more Excel documents in which to fill in the number of POC artists included in a programme, or POC staff members at an institution. I argue for – simultaneity, many at the same time and at any given site, together yet autonomous, insistent translations across practiced languages and ‘créolités’ – rainbows, not monochromatic, living together, not getting assimilated … 1 Literary and cultural studies scholar Nesrin Tanç (also one of the editors of this anthology) has painstakingly retrieved copies of these journals from private homes and collections. No official archive either in Germany or in Turkey has ever made any effort to collate or preserve them. In an exhibition titled Ghosts, Traces, Echoes: Works in Shifts, curated by Eva Busch and Madhusree Dutta in 2020-21, Akademie der Künste der Welt presented Nesrin Tanç’s collection and her reading of the phenomenon that Dergi was and still is. Route 3 39 In conversation: Amela Halilovic, Erwin Rosenfelder 40 Can you imagine how much work it invoடves? IN CONVERSATION WITH AMELA HALILOVIC AND ERWIN ROSENFELDER FROM AKTION – LEBEN UND LERNEN IN BOSNIEN E.V. ▒▓░╟Prevod, p.257╣░▓▒ Amela Halilovic studied German philology and psychology and initially worked as a translator and interpreter. She now works as a consultant and is a psychotherapist for children and young people, both in and outside of school. She is the author of the autobiographical novel Das Salz der Tränen (The Salt of Tears) and initiator of the association Aktion – Leben und Lernen in Bosnien e.V. Before retiring, Erwin Rosenfelder was a comprehensive school teacher of German, English and sociology. He is a founding member of the association Aktion – Leben und Lernen in Bosnien e.V. Route 2 Can you imagine how much work it involves? Johanna-Yasirra Kluhs (JYK): Amela, what was your motivation in forming an association in Bottrop? Amela Halilovic (AH): A headteacher of a school in my Bosnian hometown approached me and said, “The heating has broken again, the children haven’t been at school for three months. I’m driving to the ministry in Sarajevo, I’m going to set up my tent there and beg until someone helps us.” And then she said, “Knowing you, you’re sure to help us.” That was the rallying cry for me. At the time I had an interview in the WAZ. Herbert Schröer, a benefactor from Castrop-Rauxel, saw it and called me. In our first conversation I said, “If you can help me to buy a heating system for the school, we can work together.” And he said, “There is one possibility, and that would be to form an association.” Herbert and I then went to Paritätische1 and, together with Ms Multmeier, we thought about how we could set up an association. On the way, one storey down, I met Erwin. And then: “One, two, three, four – okay, how many do I need?” And so that’s how we ended up forming Aktion – Leben und Lernen in Bosnien on 24 November 2014. Erwin Rosenfelder (ER): I was at the same place at the same time, because I was looking for orientation as to what I could actually do after retirement. I had previously given remedial 41 lessons to children with migrant backgrounds. But the money was lacking, these measures were to be discontinued. So I went to the volunteering agency, which is housed in the same building as Paritätische, and just said, “I have the time and desire to get involved in a good cause and I also feel slightly obliged to continue being active in the social sphere.” Then I went out of the door and met Amela and Herbert and we got talking. “I can’t build a heating system,” I said eventually, “but I’m sure I could take the minutes.” That’s how I got involved. AH: Finding a solution was a must, so that these children had the chance to go to school – it used to be my school. Our project was implemented. We worked together with the Federal Ministry for Economic Cooperation and Development in Bonn and the Stiftung für Menschen in Not (Foundation for People in Need) in Castrop-Rauxel. We worked on all of the applications for a year. We went to Bosnia three times, and finally the heating system was bought. We also built a storeroom for pellets. Various other projects developed out of this project. ER: Yes, it was clear to us as we worked together in the association that the heating wasn’t the only issue, but that there were many problems there, ranging from a lack of certain requirements for up-to-date teaching to acute emergencies. We imagine Route 2 In conversation: Amela Halilovic, Erwin Rosenfelder a peaceful, reasonable coexistence in Europe, where people can live their lives without existential worries and have a perspective. A big goal that can only be achieved through many small practical steps. And yes, you can only initiate something like that if you do it through young people. A school exchange is a suitable approach. Fortunately, we found open ears at the Gustav-Heinemann secondary school in Bottrop. In 2015 the Bosnian children were here, and in 2016 we went there. There were collaborative projects on the timetable and numerous leisure activities. It was always about finding out more about each other and learning from one another. Friendships were forged quickly, tears flowed when we parted. But then there was a tragic accident, in which the contact teacher in Germany died. There was no one else in the school who was so actively committed. We were put off until the year 2018. We were still eager and thought: “How can we continue what we’ve begun?” There was and is definitely willingness from the Bosnian side. But German schools 42 couldn’t make an immediate commitment for various reasons. And then the pandemic came. AH: We also organised some events on the theme of “inclusion”. Teachers took a look at what the work with disadvantaged children in schools here is like. Or the workshop where adults with impairments work, for example. But how can I implement this if my state doesn’t support me? What options are there for associations who are engaged with this issue and also support schools in Bosnia? The more we did, the more the perspective widened. On both sides. JYK: There is a really big Bosnian-Herzegovinian diaspora in the Ruhr region. Do you have contact with any other initiatives? ER: On one hand, we now have other Bosnian citizens in the association apart from our chair, and they of course have connections to other former compatriots. AH: On the other hand, the more PR we did, the more other organisations and associations approached us, and this resulted in the formation of a Bosnian relief network in NRW. We were Aktion – Leben und Lernen in Bosnien was founded in Bottrop in 2014. Since then, it has been committed to German-Bosnian cultural exchange and organising charitable support for self-help efforts in Bosnia. Relief shipments of basic foodstuffs, hygiene articles and orthopaedic aids have all taken place in the past. In collaboration with Labdoo, they have so far made around 500 computers with accessories available for educational purposes, while preschools have also received basic equipment. In 2018 the association initiated the international film festival Bosnia-Herzegovina Looks Around, which took place online in 2020 due to the COVID-19 pandemic and is likely to follow the same format in 2021. Route 2 Can you imagine how much work it involves? actually overstretched doing the relief transportation on our own. It is very expensive to commission a haulage company to transport aid supplies. And, of course, it is great if you can support each other. So a big thank you to all of the associations and foundations and to the Red Cross in Ahrweiler. The more we did, the more the perspective widened. On both sides. ER: The refugee situation in Bosnia is very topical at the moment. In December 2018 the situation escalated. Many refugees came to Bosnia via the Balkan route, and got stuck there, because Croatia had sealed off the border, so thousands of refugees then camped outside Bihac. The first initiative was started there in order to just make sure that people could survive. So we collected sleeping bags, woollen blankets, winter clothes and winter shoes with other organisations in the network and a transporter went from Bochum to Bosnia. A member of our association also drove with them in order to see how things were allocated over there. Now the situation has escalated again, because a camp has been dispersed by the Bosnians. The refugees were supposed to be housed in barracks, but the Bosnian population resisted. The 43 EU made 80 million euros available, so that these refugees could be housed somewhere, but the money is nowhere to be found. AH: As long as there is corruption there, there won’t be any improvement. I was there myself and it is simply a fact that these people have to hide themselves. They go to the border in the evening, at night, and are sent back by the police. Where then? They have to eat somewhere. They have to have warm clothes. They have to sleep somewhere, as all of the tents have been taken down. Were we, when we left our houses, treated in this way? No, we weren’t. And the fact is that the population in Bosnia complains about it: “We have no work and now we have taken in so many people. How can our country afford all that?” There are so many fears. We can take action. The network is now beginning to buy everything we need. We are now planning another transportation together. JYK: Bosnia and Germany have something to do with one another, not only because people from Bosnia live here, but also because European immigration policy is implemented in Bosnia. Would you actually say that what you do with your association is intercultural work? ER: This aspect is already considered because people with Bosnian roots are active in the association. With a collective goal in our sights: reasonable, good Route 2 In conversation: Amela Halilovic, Erwin Rosenfelder coexistence in Europe. Whereby we, of course, value all idiosyncrasies and cultural characteristics. In this way, we also make the original German population take notice: “Look what great things they have there, and what does that mean?” Our cultural work continues to be expressed, especially in the film festival. But we have another forum besides that. There is the Fest der Kulturen (Festival of Cultures) here in Bottrop every two years and we are of course heavily involved with that, to show that we all belong together and that we are also contributing something to make the city of Bottrop liveable and pleasant. If every organisation or every association contributes by taking a step, then much will change. JYK: The Bosnia-Herzegovina Looks Around festival was also clearly aimed at the population in Bottrop. AH: We thought about how we could use film to reach everyone and represent what is not being spoken about. We worked on how we could realise this here for a year. Where could we apply for funding? It takes lots of money, energy, work. Sometimes twelve hours a day, alongside the work that we do 44 already. Our cultural officer Mr Kind supported us a lot in this. JYK: Also bringing Bosnian filmmakers to Germany! AH: Not just from Bosnia, but the Balkans, too. Our film festival is called Looks Around, as that is important to us: how can we reach people beyond the borders, so that we can interact in this way? And we managed to show on the screen how things are in Bosnia. How they are in Kosovo. How they are in Macedonia. How they are in Serbia. In Croatia and in Slovenia. They were our neighbours and they still are. We reached many people, particularly the audience in the Balkan-Ruhr region, in fact. What we talk about is not so openly brought up in Bosnia. “Why should I talk about that, why should I worry? Nothing will change anyway.” Our hope is that if we talk about it here, something will change there, in the Balkans. We have new directors, Elma Tataragić and Melina Alagić, who organised our film festival with us online for the first time. And the feedback was great. We decided to approach the schools with our film festival, both in person and digitally. They have politics as a school subject. Religion, too. They have culture and science. We want to offer schools the opportunity for pupils to watch feature films and documentaries with the teachers and headteachers, so they can debate what is happening in the Balkans in lessons. 30 years after Route 2 Can you imagine how much work it involves? the war – what has changed? If every organisation or every association contributes by taking a step, then much will change. JYK: It is very impressive to see the complex web this festival is incorporated in. Many people in Germany think that the topic of “flight” first took to the country’s stage in 2015. Adem Köstereli and Wanja van Suntum, who were pupils in the region at the time, told us how deeply the experience had etched itself in the people when they came from the former Yugoslavian countries in the nineties and no one really spoke about what the background to it was. A film festival can perhaps make a connection through images and contents that was 45 actually only sensed beforehand. AH: “Flight” is a psychological term. If I flee from myself, if I don’t talk about it, I will never be able to process what happened to me or us. It is about accepting and recognising what happened. And not fleeing afterwards, but rather confronting what happened and saying: “I am not to blame because this happened to me.” And there is someone who listens to me. And even if it is only one person, you understand? There are many people who haven’t talked about it. They were my friends. They committed suicide. Can you imagine – these people who are now in Syria, for example, and are arriving in Germany – how much work it involves? 1. Paritätische is an umbrella association of over 10,000 independent organisations, institutions and groups in the areas of health and social issues. Paritätische supports the work of its members with 15 state associations and more than 280 district offices. Route 2 Ayşe Güleç 46 Coal, culture, crĭtįque Otto von Habsburg in front of the memorial Unteilbares Deutschland (Inseparable Germany) in Erlangen/Ohmplatz, 13 August 1978. Photo: Bernd Böhmer Coal, culture, critique 47 Forms of commemoration as anti-racist praxis in a post-migrant society ▒▓░╟Çeviri, p.260╣░▓▒ From the recruitment that began in 1955 to its termination in 1973 and the development of integration concepts in the 1980s, various state practices have been used to regulate migration through the different phases of German migration policy. Various terms have also been spawned to describe those not seen as a natural part of society. We must therefore ask ourselves: could it be that racism is embedded in institutions as part of an index of regulations and rules, that it is inscribed in image and representational politics and decisively shapes relationships and history? In short, is racism a societal, institutionalised, structurally composed power relationship? In the introduction to the book After Europe, Julian Warner writes aptly: “When I came into the world in Germany in 1985, I was a foreigner, in 2005 I became a fellow citizen with migratory background, in 2010 post-migrant, 2012 black, now I am BIPOC …” (Warner 2021:7). My father came to Gelsenkirchen at the start of the 1960s as a so-called Gastarbeiter.1 He brought us – my mother, my brothers and me as a toddler – over to join him around four years later. My first memories of Almanya are connected with images of the simple wooden barrack estate on which we lived, as well as the pit’s winding tower. Although the wooden barracks were surrounded by grass and were right next to the pit, the barracks, colliery and winding tower are black-grey in my memories. We lived here with other families, mainly from Italy and Turkey: the first generation of new working-class families. We children had fields and lots of space to play right next to the pit – only the fields are in lush greens in my memories. Ayşe Güleç is an educator, art mediator, research activist and curator in the artistic team for documenta fifteen. She also worked on documenta 14, documenta 12 and dOCUMENTA (13). She previously worked in the fields of migration and interlocal networking at Kulturzentrum Schlachthof e.V. (Kassel). She is actively involved in various anti-racist movements and initiatives. Route 3 Ayşe Güleç 48 Remembering and forgetting – according to Aleida Assmann – should not be seen as oppositional, diametrical acts. In fact, the space between these two poles should be examined “to analyse the entanglements and overlaps” (Assmann 2016:19). Following Assmann, the normal mode of human life in this asymmetry is not remembering, but forgetting. Remembering is “the negation of forgetting and generally speaking means an effort, a revolt, a veto against time and the course of things” (Assmann 2016:30). My father was regularly transported deep into the ground, to dig out the black gold of the Ruhr. He would be returned to the daylight after a hard day’s work. On warm days the fields of the barrack estate became collective living and dining rooms. Adults and children would come together here. The miners spoke of their work underground, of accidents, of funny experiences and adventures in their first years in Germany. They shared their experiences, complained about the low wages for such hard work, and joked and ranted about their German foremen. I started school at the beginning of the 1970s. Around this time we moved to a miner’s estate with proper houses. My mother also gained employment and began assembling electric cookers in piecework. From the kitchen window of the new flat we could see the winding tower of the Gelsenkirchen-Buer colliery and had, for the first time, German neighbours, whose Polish-sounding names alluded to a migration story that stretched even further back into the past. The oil and economic crisis in 1973 led to the end of the recruitment of more Gastarbeiter. Those who were already in the country recognised that the economic consequences of the oil crisis would affect their lives, and quickly moved their relations into the country. My brother and I were the neighbourhood translation office on our childhood estate. We translated letters and accompanied neighbours to doctors and government offices. I organised courses for women in the neighbourhood with a teacher who arrived from Turkey and ran a girls’ group in a community centre in Essen. My involvement back then must surely have had something to do with the fact that there was a general wave of politicisation among migrant workers, especially at the start of the 1980s. A theme that often came up among adults at get-togethers was, that despite the same hard work, they had less money in their pay packets at the end of the month than their German mates. Much was said about unequal treatment without the word “racism” being used. Route 3 Coal, culture, critique 49 Until June 1984, the state attempted to increase people’s willingness to repatriate with a financial incentive, as well as the early cashing in of (only) certain entitlements, with the aim of being rid, de facto, of the Gastarbeiter. Many did not fall for this dirty trick and stayed. They stayed and organised themselves within and outside the unions, formed their own associations and educated their own communities and towns. The military coup in Turkey in 1983 also took place during this phase of repatriation grants. Exiles came to the country and got involved in public debates with their songs, books and activism. This period was characterised by a wealth of novels and many songs that documented the work and living conditions of the time. After the popular songs or films of the 1970s, which had addressed homesickness (Almanya Aci Vaten; Germany, Bitter Homeland), political, resistant film productions and songs, which conveyed the realities of life in (Deut)-“Schland”2 followed. Here a few lines from a song by Cem Karaca: “Come Turk, drink some German beer / Cos you are also welcome here / With cheers Allah is deserted / And you’re a little integrated … Those who train dogs instead of children / Are almost integrated … politically not interested / Then you are finally integrated …” In the 1990s I studied on the zonal border in Kassel and experienced “German-German” reunification. This period was characterised by racist images and debates that ran under the heading “the boat is full”. Using this slogan, the republicans tried to win over and mobilise the right wings of all the parties. The media and middle-class newspapers, from Der Spiegel to FAZ, picked up on the image of the full boat, stoked up the discourse, and thus made this metaphor socially acceptable in intellectual circles. This discourse, whipped up by the media, led to arson attacks on the houses of migrant families and refugee homes – with many deaths – in Hoyerswerda (1991), Mölln (1992), Solingen (1993) and Rostock-Lichtenhagen (1992). Fire extinguishers were in short supply after Mölln and Solingen, and ropes were kept under beds in many migrant households, with the hope that they might save the residents and their children. A big Schland spectre also arose during this phase. The foundations of the National Socialist Underground (NSU) were laid after Mölln and Solingen (Kahveci/Pınar Sarp 2017). Politics prepared the ground and then kicked down the door: a vote on the so-called asylum compromise took place on 26 May 1993: 521 members of the Bundestag Route 3 Ayşe Güleç 50 voted for the changes to asylum rights, only 132 against. The asylum compromise was a de facto elimination of the asylum rights drawn up in 1949 – which were seen as the crowning glory of the constitution, as they drew from the experiences of the Nazi era, and had been treated as an enforceable individual right until then. After studying I began to work at the Schlachthof cultural centre in Kassel. In the vicinity was the internet café where Halit Yozgat was murdered on 6 April 2006, becoming the ninth victim of the NSU. In the period between 2000 and 2006, nine self-employed men aged between 20 and 40 were shot with the same murder weapon in the cities of Nuremberg, Munich, Hamburg, Rostock, Dortmund and Kassel: Enver Şimşek, Abdurrahim Özüdoğru, Süleyman Taşköprü, Habil Kılıç, Mehmet Turgut, İsmail Yaşar, Theodoros Boulgarides, Mehmet Kubaşık and Halit Yozgat, who all worked as entrepreneurs in their own businesses. These public places of everyday life became crime scenes: a kiosk, a locksmith’s, a tailor’s, a snack bar, a grocer’s, an internet café. Most of them were on busy roads, near bus stops or schools, some even very close to police stations. The NSU attacks include at least three bombings: in June 2004, for example, a nail bomb with 700 nails was laid and detonated in front of the Yıldırım brothers’ barber shop on the lively Keupstraße in Cologne – with the intention of murdering as many people as possible. The repeated calls from relatives and survivors of the bombings, stating that the perpetrators must have been Nazis, were not heard – instead the relatives themselves were treated like perpetrators for many years. Only one month after the murder of Halit Yozgat, his parents organised demonstrations of mourning, together with the families of Enver Şimşek and Mehmet Kubaşık, under the name “Kein 10. Opfer” (No 10th Victim). The families did not know each other until then. The demonstrations first took place on 6 May 2006 in Kassel, then on 3 June in Dortmund. Over 3,000 people took part in Kassel – mainly from migratory communities. The demonstration showed that the series of murders had a connection and that people knew about the racist background to the crimes. Their speeches and banners clearly articulated that the police and politicians did not want to see the obvious, and demanded that they stop this series of murders so that there would be “No 10th Victim”. Yet the demonstration was comprehensively ignored by dominant society. It is important “[…] to listen to this ineptness of the ‘dominants’ or scandalise their ‘selective hearing’ and their ‘strategic numbness’” Route 3 Coal, culture, critique 51 (Dhawan 2012:52), as over 3,000 people knew what was going on. Some of the banners and signs at the “Kein 10. Opfer” demo were made by the Kubaşık family in Dortmund. The demonstration was providence – or a pre-enactment, pre-empting political moment as performative prefiguration (Oliver Marchart): one year after the demo the policewoman Michèle Kiesewetter was murdered. Still from the video documentation of the "No 10th victim" demonstration in Kassel on 6 May 2006. Camera: Sefa Defterli among others 2006 Only once the existence of the NSU trio became public did initiatives form in order to support the relatives. “Initiative 6. April” (6 April Initiative) formed straight after the first commemoration event. During those commemoration events in 2012 I saw people reacting to the families’ demands by rolling their eyes and sighing deeply. I asked myself what these gestures meant. I began to conduct interviews, dedicating myself to the topic of the “politics of memory” as well as the spectrum of actions between listening and not wanting to hear. Listening, wanting to listen and not wanting to listen are active, emotional-cognitive acts that function as basic prerequisites for a sociopolitical praxis of uniting and solidarity. From 2013 to 2017 the initiatives in Kassel networked nationwide. Observing how those affected were dealt with in the so-called NSU trials lead to the idea of a tribunal. With over 100 people from the fields of art, activism and science, as well as those directly affected, the Tribunal NSU-Komplex auflösen (Tribunal to break up the NSU Route 3 Ayşe Güleç 52 network) was laid out as a several-year trial. The first tribunal took place in Cologne in May 2017. The Tribunal NSU-Komplex auflösen was intended to create a space that would make the NSU and the various actors visible and audible as a structure using the situated knowledge of those affected by Nazi terror. At the same time, institutional and everyday racism was to be criticised. It wasn’t the case that those affected hadn’t spoken until then – they had done so for many years. Yet they were simply not heard, their voices systematically ignored, even silenced. The declared goal of the Tribunal NSU-Komplex auflösen was to work against this structural ignorance and lack of empathy (Gülec/Schaffer 2017:57) and thus against racist division in society. The NSU had precursors, and sadly the network is still active. Holding on to the “individual perpetrator and isolated terror cells” theory led to further murders and attacks in Hesse, to the murder of district president Dr. Walter Lübcke and the attempted murder of Ahmed I., to the threatening NSU 2.0 letter as well as to the murders in Hanau. While the NSU files were initially classified for 130 years, now shortened to 30 years, the list of state failures and prevention of clarification continues to grow. Who grants themselves the right to forget and who must remember? According to Assmann, remembering is an essential part of the politics of commemoration, to actively create a link to that which has happened. As such, remembering is to be understood, above all, as an act of solidarity, as work. But solidarity does not presuppose that our struggles have to be the same, that the pain has to be the same. Hope, too, does not have to be dedicated to the same future. Despite a different feeling, life or body we can see solidarity as involvement and work (Ahmed 2014:189), linked to the realisation that we all live on common ground. In a time in which fascism is growing once again, especially in Europe, it is all the more important that we claim spaces that are clearly anti-racist and solidary and carefully develop relevant educational work, high schools, art and cultural institutions. Criticising the calls for “performative” and futile discrimination awareness in institutions means, in particular, demanding structures and resources: it means asking who is at the table, which positions are occupied by whom and who is not represented. It means, in particular, describing institutions as places of powerful inclusion and exclusion and constantly working on changing the structures at the core of these institutions. Route 3 Coal, culture, critique 53 1 Literally: “guest worker”. 2 “Schland” is an abbreviation of the word “Deutschland”. The German football team was spurred on during the home World Cup in 2006 by chants of “Deutschland, Deutschland”. Due to the elongated emphasis of the syllable “land”, “Deutschland” became “Schland”. There is a song by Fehler Kuti called “Schland Is The Place For Me”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=voceZRL3Oig (accessed: 5/8/2021). References Sara Ahmed, The Cultural Politics of Emotion, 2. edn., Edinburgh 2014, p. 189. Aleida Assmann, Formen des Vergessens, Göttingen 2016, p. 19. Julian Warner, After Europe. Beiträge zur dekolonialen Kritik, Berlin 2021, p. 7. Ayşe Güleç/Johanna Schaffer, "Empathie, Ignoranz und migrantisch situiertes Wissen", in: Nikita Dhawan, "Hegemonic Listening and Subversive Silences: Ethical-political Imperatives", in: Alice Lagaay/Michael Lorber (ed.): Destruction in the Performative, Amsterdam/New York 2012. Çağrı Kahveci/Özge Pınar Sarp, "Von Solingen zur NSU-rassistischen Gewalt im kollektiven Gedächtnis von Migrant*innen türkischer Herkunft", in: Juliane Karakayali/Çagri Kahveci/Doris Liebscher/Carl Melchers, Carl (ed.), Den NSU-Komplex analysieren, Bielefeld 2017, pp. 37-56. Donna Haraway, "Situated Knowledges: The Science Question in Feminism and the Privilege of Partial Perspective", in: Feminist Studies, 14/3, 1988, pp. 575–599, here p. 583. Oliver Marchart, Conflictual Aesthetics, Artists Activism and the Public Sphere, Berlin 2019. Route 3 In conversation: Ana Maria Sales Prado, Tijen Atkaya, Miriam Yosef, Fatima Çalışkan Different terms, but similår feelinჟs SALON DER PERSPEKTIVEN ON THE EXPERT DEFICIT IN GERMAN MAINSTREAM SOCIETY AND COMPLICITY AS A FORM OF RESISTANCE Salon der Perspektiven is a mobile venue for thinking about new forms of collaboration, solidarity and exchange in art and science. It was formed in 2018 as a coalition for more empowerment and representation of marginalised perspectives. Today it sees itself as an initiative for artistic research and the visualisation of power dynamics in artistic and scientific professions within the dominant society. In this it follows a queer-feminist and intersectional approach. It works in a non-hierarchical and grassroots democratic way, with areas of responsibility flowing into one another. Its work has been supported by Interkultur Ruhr from the beginning. Route 2 Different terms, but similar feelings Johanna-Yasirra Kluhs (JYK): Salon der Perspektiven has been constantly moving since its foundation in 2018. Fatima Çalışkan (FÇ): At its foundation we were four initiatives. We planned a series in which we touched on important discursive or media themes, with a particular focus on art and popular culture. We noticed a deficit in experts in media debates, a “talking over”. That’s why we teamed up, in order to strengthen ourselves – to “empower” – and to work for more representation. This grouping was a good idea for the start, but it was productive for the collaboration to take on a legal form – our own profile, our own mission that we gave ourselves, a vision that we share with each other and want to follow in a concerted way. Then we came upon the Salon der Perspektiven. “Salon” is a very elitist term and in the course of this thinking about empowerment and representation, we saw it as a form of authorisation. And “perspectives” is the attempt to signalise an openness in the direction it can go. A year ago we came together in our current configuration. Ana Maria Sales Prado (AP): This year we worked completely digitally and still managed to create a group feeling. Nevertheless, I understand the Salon as a flexible, fluid project, as our themes and approaches continue to develop. A central question for us is also always how we can 55 open up the Salon to others and act as accomplices. Not only with others playing a part in Salon, but also in our interactions with other projects and initiatives. Right now, in the digital space, this question remains exciting. JYK: There is a strong exclusion criteria in your work: it only comes from FLINT:. And perhaps is also only intended for FLINT:? What does it mean to you to organise yourselves as women:? Miriam Yosef (MY): We see the Salon as a safe and empowering space for us, in which we can simply work together. It makes a difference that we can talk and work without the presence of cis-men. All of the articles in the magazine are by FLINT: of colour. But the content is not only addressed to this target group, it can be read by anyone and that is also our wish. It is about representation in general. It should also be addressed to mainstream society: as a rallying cry. FÇ: We already have an audience, which belongs to the same generation or the same milieu as us. Class discrimination is an issue for us, as well as anyone to whom the term “People of Colour/POC” applies. If I was to ask my father, he would probably never say: “Yes, I am Mr DHL parcel deliverer of colour.” He would use other terms, but he still has similar feelings to someone who would call themselves POC. You have to make a decision and consider why you use Route 2 In conversation: Ana Maria Sales Prado, Tijen Atkaya, Miriam Yosef, Fatima Çalışkan certain terms. If you remember, for example, this call we put out for the magazine – it appealed to a very broad range of people and those who perhaps, due to their history, wouldn’t fit the label of migrant or Gastarbeiter child from the Ruhr region at all. People who have a very different biography, perhaps an academic biography, or are situated very differently and yet share many of our experiences, for example with regards to racism or sexism. JYK: This aspiration for a critical unity can also be called complicity. With the magazine you have accepted many other positions and considerations on the theme of complicity. What kind of process was that? FÇ: We tried to find a term that creates an opportunity to rethink things. Cultural work and science are very dog-eat-dog disciplines. What can we counter this with, what are the gaps? Where is it also about the discrimination that you experience? And what is my own position in the whole thing? What does solidary praxis mean for me? Of course, we are also not free of discrimination. We have all grown up with it and learning begins at different times for each of us. MY: The term “solidarity” is – even before the pandemic situation – used in a quite inflationary way. We saw something concrete in the term complicity, perhaps also something to do with an idea of resistance. But of course it also has something to do with the situation in Germany, under the heading “coping with the present”: NSU, right-wing terrorist attacks, Halle, Hanau, an explicitly racist and antisemitic party in the Bundestag and so on. Complicity is a topic that is always relevant for us and will always remain relevant in the future when we pursue other topics. Tijen Atkaya (TA): After we published the call we received many applications and great popularity. Very individual, biographical texts, academic essays, prose, poetry, illustrations, drawings, photography and collages, all depicting a variety of critical voices. Narratives in which com- Ana Maria Sales Prado (she/he) has been a member of Salon der Perspektiven since 2020. She came to Dortmund in 2019 to do a master’s degree in photography, having previously studied graphic design in Berlin. Tijen Atkaya (she/he) has lived in Dortmund since 2017. She graduated in early years pedagogy and researches power structures in organisations. She came to Salon der Perspektiven in 2020 via the Feminismus im Pott initiative. Miriam Yosef (she/he) lives in Bochum and studied human rights with a focus on intersectionality. She co-founded Salon der Perspektiven in 2018. Fatima Çalışkan (she/he) lives in Berlin and works as a curator, artist and consultant. She is a co-founder of Salon der Perspektiven. Route 2 Different terms, but similar feelings plicities with parents were entered into, negotiated and mutual diaspora experiences shared. One academic essay examined the theme of “Utopias as resistance praxis against hegemonic power structures”. Photos in which the Black Lives Matter movements were portrayed. For us it was very interesting to read what complicity can mean as solidary collaboration. If I was to ask my father, he would probably never say: “Yes, I am Mr DHL parcel deliverer of colour.” JYK: 2015/16 was a year in which the public became aware that Germany is a country of immigration. Like a new zero hour in the history of migration in Germany, that you keep on starting to tell again, instead of simply stating the fact that this is a post-national society, in the continuity of which our family histories also stand. FÇ: That was six years ago now and many refugees have created their own structures, have organised themselves. And on the other hand, I have also seen many people who did not stand in solidarity with the refugees, and reproduced discriminating and racist phrases and actions: you experienced similar things, how can you speak like that? And that is very symbol- 57 ic of how societies work, how we assimilate things and then pass them on. What it means to reflect on certain things and totally block out others. What it means to also exercise a capacity and pressure to conform. Many uncomfortable side aspects came up. We missed the chance to talk about it. AP: I would agree with that. I started to study graphic design in Berlin in 2013. I was disappointed back then that my academic surroundings were extremely apolitical. Even in the imagery of the reporting there was so much to criticise and I felt a real unease. Since then, my work as a photographer and graphic designer, which is primarily aesthetic, is actually inseparable from political and critical themes. MY: I was also studying back then – and increasingly grappling with political contexts and power structures as well as my own position as an activist at the time. TA: In 2015 I was studying social work. As I was getting older, and the more I grappled with my biography and social and political changes, the more I became aware that I must deploy the resources and privileges I have acquired in political praxis and look for allies. JYK: It is interesting that it perhaps produced such a politicisation on one hand, but also a resignation on the other. For us there was a realisation on a micro level with the funding programme: it was used in order to compen- Route 2 In conversation: Ana Maria Sales Prado, Tijen Atkaya, Miriam Yosef, Fatima Çalışkan sate for a seemingly temporary precariousness, but actually made it apparent that we are dealing with structural precariousness. I wonder sometimes whether that can be read allegorically. It is also a criticism that some people make of the term “intercultural”, that it shrouds things, that when we talk about that, we don’t talk about the racist discrimination of certain protagonists in the area of culture. With Salon you talk about intersectionality, about interdisciplinarity, but not at all about interculturalism. FÇ: I find it continually disconcerting how people play with the term “culture”. If you look at the projects, the narrative is often: there are “socially weak” “migrantised” children – with which the suggestion is that they come from a very unreflective, uneducated context, with economic difficulties – and they must be taught culture, even if that means explaining to them where their own culture actually comes from. People working in these contexts probably often don’t think about how violent what they do is. All of these expectations and images that they impose on people. I didn’t know from the perspective of Salon the extent to which we can work with that. MY: The first workshop that we organised with Salon was an empowerment workshop for BIPOC titled I Am Not Exotic, I’m Exhausted with the speaker Diana Arce. I associate the term “intercultural” with processes of exoticisation. I find it more appropriate to call things by their names. If we are talking about people who are affected by racism, it is better to address it like that. It is not a new problem, rather a systematic, historical one – especially in the Ruhr region. I associate the term “intercultural” with processes of exoticisation. JYK: Because we find the term “intercultural” so difficult ourselves, we are also trying more and more to move the idea of Pangaea into the foreground, which refers to a utopian and unclear past and a utopian future: we all share this piece of land here! And on this plot there might be the possibility to talk about controversies. If we talk about a racism-critical, self-evidently post-national society: where do you situate your work? In which direction do you work – do you create a present or a future? MY: Ina Holev and I write in our text about Jewish futurism that past, present and future are connected more in a circle there. For many people in the dominant society, there are these ideas of clean breaks and Route 2 Different terms, but similar feelings upheavals. But for many people who don’t belong to the dominant society, these clean breaks don’t exist. And so future, present and past remain connected. FÇ: The Salon works like this: talking lots and listening lots, trying to be sensitive – being very much in the praxis. Much of what we do seems very strongly theory-led. If I can theorise the things that I experience in everyday life, it helps to cope with it. Being led by theory as a coping strategy. Toni Morrison said that a feature of racism is that you are constrained 59 by it the whole time: by racism permeating everything in your daily life, it robbing you of an incredible amount of resources and power and then you no longer get onto the things you want to do. I would say that my hope with Salon is to create a place for people who can pursue their profession and find a place in which they are not constrained by these structures. And that is in turn a form of continuity that we are trying to create, in a time that is rather contrary. But just jump in first, do it, join forces! Route 2 In conversation: Sandy Brede Enduring thҽ ຽncertainty Since 2017, acting in concert has been working – mostly in the small city of Witten in the Ruhr region – to establish a context for queer, anti-racist and anti-capitalist projects, which experiment with how people come together through sound. Route 2 60 Enduring the uncertainty 61 Fabian Saavedra-Lara (FSL): Hello Sandy, could you tell us something about the project acting in concert? Sandy Brede (SB): The acting in concert festival was funded by the Förderfonds Interkultur Ruhr in 2018. acting in concert is a music festival, through which I would like to try to propose another “now”, contrary to what is a mostly racist, sexist and queer-hostile club and concert landscape and to create safer spaces for women, queers and BIPOC. In 2018 there were seven concerts and a talk on the theme of queering and decolonising spaces. In these events I am concerned with the question of whether and how spaces characterised by exclusion, like our café, where the festival takes place, can be queered or decolonised. Especially when these spaces, like our café, are organised by a largely white and cis-heterosexual team. So how can you organise a festival in a way that it automatically reproduces as few racist, patriarchal, but also capitalist and neoliberal power mechanisms as possible; which role does our own position and associated privileges and power of interpretation play in this, and how does the organisation, the kind of curation and aesthetics, music styles and performances relate to the coming together that actually takes place in the music? FSL: To what extent does aic have anything to do with the topic of “interculturalism”? How do you see this term? What in your view is problematic in it, what might make it useful in a cultural-political context? SB: I’m not certain whether intercultural work takes place at aic, because I am also not sure what the term means. I understand it as a relationship between cultures, and it might have something to do with exchange? The term “culture” seems very large, long-established, and territorial to me. At the same time, there are not any cultures standing on the stage, or other bodies, but rather people. If you want to see it like that, then that is reductive and discriminatory and a marking of the other. I think I can describe it, if at all, in the area of music. I often find that at “intercultural” and “diverse” concerts only relational shifts occur, and these are shifts of demarcation and the reproduction of gaze hierarchies and othering. That is precisely what should not happen at aic. I think aic is about a direct or indirect exchange of lived realities and experiences, but perhaps much more on the level of forms of relationship such as solidarity, responsibility and care, and criticism from anti-capitalist and intersectional perspectives, and less to do with something like intercultural interaction. I also think that terms like “intercultural” can be instruments of power – so really in the sense of controlling – or at least have to be critically interrogated in terms of power structures. Because who profits from it and what is done Route 2 In conversation: Sandy Brede 62 or attempted with it are important questions. I often have the impression that the carving out of cultural differences serves to reduce the other to precisely those differences, and that, for example, intercultural interaction serves to make the other transparent, understandable, in order to control or absorb them and to protect a separate unity characterised by exclusion. So, to be honest, I wonder whether we even need the term “intercultural” in order to enter into relationships with others, to live and work with one another, to discriminate less, et cetera. But that should, of course, always be considered situationally and evaluated independently of our individual positions. But in the cultural and political context, that is, in the institutional context in a racist and patriarchal country, I would tend to assume that it is, consciously or unconsciously, also about this understanding, marking, absorbing all the way to controlling the other. At the same time, all the public sponsors probably think the term, in a similar way to “diversity”, is really great and readily marketable, so that it is perhaps useful or even practical!? Yet the term has a tinge of the Enlightenment and Western universalism for me, in the sense of understanding, discovering, categorising, and conquering. FSL: Which developments were important in your work in recent years, what has changed? What continuities are there? SB: I think the most important thing is that I have got to know people over the past few years. I am not really the networking type, and so trusting others with regards to acting in concert does me good. It is a nice experience and motivation for me to realise that in just three or four years, trust and relationships of solidarity have been formed without aggressive networks et cetera. This includes aic becoming a label since the end of 2020, where I try to support artists in releasing music or simply accompany them in it. I am currently working on this year’s festival, which is supposed to take place in August. I hope to be able to realise things with it that have resulted from the previous years. This includes, for example, a more dialogical curation and a more consistent remuneration of emotional work. The fact that the upcoming festival is reasonably well financed is also an important change. I think I understand the work on acting in concert as a process, insofar as there are rarely clear or big changes. My perspectives on the themes that acting in concert deals with always change a little bit through the events and interaction with others, but also through new sounds, aesthetics, and scenes. I think I could best describe this process – interest in young radical scenes and sounds and a reflection on power mechanisms and forms of relationship – as continuity. At the same time, I do all of this as a person, and personal experiences Route 2 Enduring the uncertainty 63 have a definitive influence on the work. As part of a society characterised by racism and heteronormativity, I am shaped by these structures and thought patterns and profit from certain privileges as a white person. I see it as my responsibility to critically reflect on my own position in terms of these power structures and this process feeds, for example, into the way I organise the festival. I would like to try within this very small framework to work more on limiting the reproduction of existing power structures as much as possible. At the same time, because I identify myself as more gender fluid than the majority of society, and am often perceived as divergent from the norm, I perceive – in these moments and on a smaller scale than many others – a violence that emanates from mainstream society. I think the personal quest for new forms of relationship, solidarity, and belonging related to this also changes constantly and feeds into the work. FSL: What are your hopes, goals, and desires for the future in your projects? Where do you see a need for cultural-political action? SB: The elimination of capital- ism, patriarchy and racism would be important for me. But I certainly can’t achieve that with music events, yet I would like to try within this very small framework to work more on limiting the reproduction of existing power structures as much as possible. I don’t think I’m psychologically the goals type, but I hope that this will continue and that the things that are just starting, like the label, somehow develop and that I also have the chance to continue to work with others on safer spaces in the future. It is important to me that things develop somehow organically, and I actually hope that I endure the uncertainty that is in that a while longer. Culturally and politically I am unsure – simply because I am not well informed. It is clear in my opinion that many more small places must be supported structurally. These places are often vital for many people and the only refuges in this society. On one hand, not all of these places survive, struggling precariously from one project funding to the next, and at the same time it seems to me as if many leftist places in particular are coming under more and more political pressure or have to close. And then I also think that the allocation of funds is still often racist and classist. There is an opening there, but you have to ask who is funded and who isn’t. It starts with which things are even recognised as art from a Eurocentric perspective and which are instead dismissed as crafts, or Route 2 In conversation: Sandy Brede 64 which people are even trusted to produce art and culture. I also see an urgent need for action in terms of funding guidelines. Achieving access to funds is already hard enough for many and creates precarious situations, which are then exacerbated in the funding guidelines – for example, through requiring proportional investment from the applicant, or masses of unpaid work in writing the applications or in the accounting. So, to be honest, it is not a nice feeling to be subjected to power, to have to send applications to people who are in part perhaps more your political enemy or part of a system of oppression, and to have to conform forever to cultural-political agendas that are certainly not going to advertise the coming revolution. At the same time, I ask myself why art and cul- tural funding is so often handed out and allocated according to capitalist and neoliberal rules. I think these are all things that those in positions of power in funding institutions can rewrite, but which they mostly do not consciously reflect on. Also, I think it would be a good start for funding institutions to reflect on their own power positions and the mechanisms that have brought them into being and which they therefore reproduce. That shouldn’t be understood incorrectly. There are also great sponsors. I have had surprisingly good experiences this year, but the path to this point came at great cost, and it is a privilege that others have rarely or not at all. FSL: Thank you for the discussion. All the best in the future for you and acting in concert! Route 2 "How can one develop a logo that corresponds to the transitory identity of the intercultural practice itself and the eponymous cultural programme in the Ruhr area?" asks Interkultur Ruhr, a new social-political programme. Therefore we invited 6 new/old inhabitants of the Ruhr area and discussed what the prefix "inter" could mean in their native languages. This already showed that various translations are going beyond the Latin meanings (among, between)! Once all participants translated "inter" to their native languages – they started to design the prefix with letters of other languages – with letters which look somehow similar to the ursprung/origin but mutate the prefix as far as possible. The task is to keep the prefix/logo readable for people from the same language area, but show the transformation into other signs and languages as well. Manuel Bürger, designer, for Interkultur Ruhr "['seoro 'seoro] is a repetition of the Korean term for 'inter'. It can be translated into 'together-together', expressing more sincerity, heart." Janet Boram Lee "The word 'inter' means ['schoriss] in Georgian language. It means something like 'between', 'supra-national', 'not limited nationally'." Giorgi Bibileishvili "[miˈtʃhev] translates from Armenian as "through" or 'in between'. I am about to reinvent myself with my own intercultural mindset." Dikran Tokmakjian "The Arabic term [ʕabra] means 'inter', but it is something that changes and overcomes, for example all kinds of borders." Fadi Klesli Theatre Pralipe 1983: Oedipus Rex - Sophocles. Photographer unknown. Nedjo Osman 67 A fairy tale called Roma Theatre Pralipe ▒▓░╟Übersetzung p.267╣░▓▒ Nedjo Osman is a freelance actor, director, poet and translator. Osman and Nada Kokotovic have been joint artistic directors of the TKO theatre in Cologne since 1995. His poetry has been published in Serbia, Turkey, Macedonia, Croatia and Germany. Route 1 Nedjo Osman 68 Stories about Roma are exciting and unusual, because they make the impossible possible and thus become fairy tales. Unfortunately, these fairy tales, with their distinctiveness, improbability, fascination and unpredictability, do not always have happy endings. Once upon a time there was a country where poor people could attend schools, work in factories and live in cities, but despite these advantages, which were not a given in all countries, they were not on an equal footing with the majority of the population. The poor people were the Roma, and the country was called Yugoslavia. It was in this country in 1970 that a small Roma theatre was founded. It was in one of the biggest Roma settlements in Europe, Šuto Orizej, better known as Šutka, on the outskirts of Skopje. The founding company was made up of a group of young Roma enthusiasts, a handful of actors and their first and last director Rahim Burhan. He gave the theatre direction and form. No one had any idea at the time that one day the whole of Europe would be talking about this theatre, a classical Roma theatre, in which the performers only spoke and acted, and didn’t dance or make music, as was expected of Roma. This was the beginning of a real Roma story and it was tough. The first rehearsals were held on the road, then in a primary school, a cultural centre in Skopje, and finally in the middle of Europe – in Germany. But lots of time was to pass in between. Together with their leader Rahim Burhan, the young, enthusiastic Roma began to tell the story of the sorrow and the life of the Roma people in another way, to fight against discrimination and to look for a new route towards the recognition of Roma culture, identity and language. They wanted to persuade non-Roma, who only knew the clichés and stereotypes, that they could get to know the Roma culture through theatre. That was the challenge for those young people back then, as it was later for anyone who entered the “magic box” that was Pralipe (“brotherhood”). In the beginning it was important to find the theatre’s form and style, its face and language. Rahim Burhan gave Pralipe its own style – he created a physical, ritualised theatre. In this he took inspiration from the work, aesthetic and formal language of the French theatre actor, director and theorist Antonin Artaud, as well as the Polish theatre director and theorist Jerzy Grotowski, but he also oriented it towards Indian modes of performance such as Kathakali theatre. The first performances were Ne, ne (No, No, 1970), an anti-Vietnam War piece; Route 1 A fairy tale called Roma Theatre Pralipe Mautije (1973), about the goddess of violins; and Soske (Why, 1975), about the Roma as victims of the Holocaust. Roma Theatre Pralipe maintained rituals. An important part of the acting was made up of movement, screaming and sound. It was the person, the identity that was the focus, and the emotions and energy were in the foreground. Anything is possible in such a theatre. Pralipe initially did non-verbal theatre, particularly because of the linguistic barrier, but also because it dealt with the themes, traditions and rituals of the Roma in a rather classical way. The lore of Pralipe theatre quickly spread among young Roma. Year on year the interest in taking part grew. Young Roma came and went. Those who had internalised the theatre stayed: Sami Osman, Rejan Šaban-Šulc, Šaban Bajram, Muharem Jonuz, Umer Djemail, Ramo Ramo. Pralipe achieved its breakthrough into the big Yugoslavian scene with the play Soske. The first invitations to Yugoslavia’s big festivals, in which only professional theatre companies took part, followed. Pralipe wowed audiences and theatre critics alike. The latter took the opportunity to report in the esteemed newspapers on an ensemble that acted in an unknown language and drew everyone in solely with its emotions, its power and its artistic style. In 1977, Pralipe was invited to the famous theatre festival in Nancy, then to many other European festivals as well as to all of the important theatre festivals in the former Yugoslavia. At the end of the 1980s Pralipe began to do spoken theatre, while maintaining its distinctive style. Famous pieces were presented, starting with the Greek tragedies, Shakespeare’s dramas and theatre texts by Yugoslavian authors. In 1982, Pralipe successfully staged Sophocles’ Oedipus Rex and performed it at a theatre festival in Delphi, Greece. A new generation of young Roma actors joined Pralipe, including Nedjo Osman, Baki Hasan and others, who gave the ensemble a new direction. Its repertoire now included the plays Oedipus Rex, Ljudi i golubovi (People and Pigeons), Nepušači (Non-smoker), Beskonačno pitanje (An Endless Question), The Theben plays, Marat/Sade, Jedjupka and The Oresteia. Further performances, festivals and guest appearances in Yugoslavia and around Europe followed. In 1990 discussions began with the director of Theater an der Ruhr, Roberto Ciulli, who had met Theatre Pralipe several times at his guest performances in the former Yugoslavia. By the end of the year he resolved, due to its idiosyncratic nature, to persuade Route 1 69 Nedjo Osman 70 the company to create a first co-production with his theatre: Blood Wedding by Federico García Lorca. In autumn 1991 Ciulli was able, thanks to support from the state of North Rhine-Westphalia and the Ministry for Urban Development, Culture and Sport, to incorporate Roma Theatre Pralipe into the Theater an der Ruhr as a permanent and independent ensemble. Pralipe took the opportunity to freshen up its ensemble. For the first time it took on non-Roma actors from Macedonia and Serbia. It now also had two trained Roma actors in its ranks – Nedjo Osman and Ruis Kadirova – who contributed a new dimension to its work and professionalism. Blood Wedding, which premiered in Mülheim an der Ruhr in January 1991, was a sensational success. In the following years it was performed almost 400 times throughout Germany and Europe. The success of Pralipe in Germany was unique and surprising, especially as it was a theatre from abroad with a completely unknown theatrical language. Pralipe wanted to offer theatre, but also strove to impart the culture and the language of the Roma to the audience. In those years the Roma theatre also performed an ambassador role, especially on its tour Kultur gegen Gewalt (Culture against Violence). After the attacks in Hoyerswerda and Solingen, it wanted to send out a signal of outrage against open xenophobia with performances in many German cities. This was political agitation against the immense hatred and the as yet undefined right-wing violence against foreigners. On this tour the ensemble was under daily police protection, as the performances were a sign of solidarity with the “unwanted and hostile guests”. With its appearances and exceptionally important performances, exclusively in Romani, Pralipe set off an avalanche of success, of media coverage, of never-before-seen interest, of euphoria. Nedjo Osman was on television and in the papers almost daily; on the street he was surrounded by crowds of fans. A special experience was the performance of Romeo and Juliet at the Vienna Burgtheater, where the audience chanted “Romeo, Romeo” for ten minutes after the final curtain. Romeo, Nedjo Osman, stood alone on the stage in front of more than 1,000 people, visibly moved. This was the fairy tale of Roma Theatre Pralipe. This tour changed our image of Germany and the Germans. Not everything was black anymore, not everything that glittered was gold, not everyone was the same. No other theatre group will experience such success so easily. After the premieres of Blood Wedding, Othello, Romeo and Route 1 A fairy tale called Roma Theatre Pralipe Juliet, The Great Water, and Seven Against Thebes, further guest performances in almost every German city and participation in almost all the major European festivals followed. Due to its successes, Pralipe received the German Critics’ Prize for the Best Theatre in Germany in 1992, the Ruhr Prize for Art and Science in 1994, and many other acknowledgments and rave reviews from Germany and other countries. This story of Roma Theatre Pralipe began with its idiosyncrasy, improbability and fascination. But how did it end? These successes and outstanding results were followed in 1995 by some changes in the climate and the work of the ensemble. In 2002 Pralipe parted from Theater an der Ruhr and tried to survive as an independent ensemble without this proven support and infrastructure. After several attempts, some projects in Düsseldorf, and two years later in Cologne, the theatre didn’t manage to achieve results anywhere near as good as when it had first won over Germany and Europe. The Theatre Pralipe odyssey came to an end in 2004. It has become clear to me that an actor is not only their role on the stage, but also the role that accompanies them their whole life. That theatre is not only entertainment, but also a mirror that grapples with and changes reality. And something else: that my role as a Roma actor, translator and cultural mediator has two goals – an artistic one, but also that of a human, a Rom, who is striving to change the image of the Roma people. Route 1 71 Fighㄊing In conversation: Milena Yolova, Lajos Gabor 72 on ▒▓░╟Übersetzung p.295╣░▓▒ Romano Drom Hagen e.V. is a self-organised group of Roma (Rom*nja) from various countries that formed in September 2019. The active members currently come from Romania, Bulgaria, Hungary and Serbia, speak eight languages between them, and look forward to becoming even more multinational. Non-Roma (non-Rom*nja) members also work collectively for the association. Route 2 Fighting on 73 Fabian Saavedra-Lara (FSL): Hello and greetings to you in Hagen! Are you in the office? Milena Yolova (MY): Yes, we are here in the rooms of our association. I am Milena Yolova, I come from Bulgaria and I am Roma. FSL: And you are also on the board of Romano Drom, right? MY: Exactly, I am the vicechair, and this is Lajos Gabor. Lajos Gabor (LG): Hi, I am Lajos Gabor. I’m from Transylvania in Romania and I speak four languages: Romanian, Romani, Hungarian and German. I am also Roma. MY: All of our colleagues here speak more than one language. FSL: Perhaps you would like to tell us something about the story of your association? MY: Our association was founded here in Hagen in September 2019. It is called Romano Drom, which means “the path of the Roma”. Because we are actually always on the road. For example, I worked in Italy for seven years, and then we came to Germany for work. Many came from Bulgaria and Romania in 2015, and our association helps many Roma and non-Roma in health and social matters, in school, at the job centre, anything at all. We do various projects. Last year we helped many people in quarantine, going shopping and getting them disinfectant. What else have we done? LG: We collected toys for children. We also received food donations, which we distributed. Now we work with Hagen city council, in cooperation with the neighbourhood management team, and also with the Werkhof. We are cooperating on a different project there, the “rental certificate”. FSL: How is the current pandemic situation for the association? LG: Things have got a bit worse. Many people can’t find work. Others don’t get any benefits from the job centre. That then means they can no longer pay the rent. That is an important point here in Hagen: seeing how quickly many people have lost their jobs. MY: We are their contact point, we talk to the job centre and tell them that people have become unemployed due to the pandemic. Then their benefits are extended a bit. There are also many eviction cases. People usually have to leave their apartments and go into council accommodation. We help and translate. Finding an apartment is difficult for many. We are the voice of these people. FSL: How many colleagues do you have at Romano Drom? MY: There are about ten of us. LG: We are not only Romanian or Bulgarian Roma, there are also two German members. FSL: You mentioned a project before, the “rental certificate”. What is that about? LG: For the rental certificate, people come to us for five days and learn everything to do with renting an apartment, for example, what is a rental agreement? What is a Route 2 In conversation: Milena Yolova, Lajos Gabor landlord responsible for? After they take this rental certificate course with us, it is easier for them to find an apartment. Everything they have learnt is listed on the rental certificate. A lawyer explains to them what their rights and obligations are. But the landlord also enters into a contract with us, which they sign too, and then we are responsible for helping the tenant for one year. It is free, and we also visit them to see if they are okay or if they need any help and so on. FSL: You have been active in Hagen for some time now. What has changed in recent years from your perspective? Much has happened politically in Germany, including, unfortunately, some very distressing things. How would you say your work has evolved since you started? MY: My opinion is that many Roma have integrated well here in Germany since 2016. Not all, but most. Many have a good job and a regular income. We have also learned a lot over the past three years, doing further training and visiting many seminars. LG: We are also education mediators. In that way we can help many people who aren’t proficient in the German language. Some of these people cannot read and write, and so they can’t understand the letters they receive. Many want to learn and then pass that on. FSL: One of the aspects of public life that is currently very much missed is personal con- 74 tact. Through the Interkultur Ruhr support fund programme, I became aware that you regularly host an event of encounter called Avilem Avilem. It is of course a real shame that this kind of thing cannot take place, but would you perhaps like to talk about it? LG: Yes, we have aready done it twice. MY: And that is important for us, as we want to tell the story of the Roma positively, including in these times. We are people like everyone else, normal people with our advantages and disadvantages. LG: Many people are happy when they attend, Germans too. It is something special. FSL: What is the response to your work, what kind of feedback do you get? MY: Mostly we just get good feedback, actually. Most people are satisfied. LG: We are translators and mediators, we want to help people to find an apartment, get on a good language course and help their children go to a good school. FSL: I think it’s an offering that is more important than ever in these difficult times. What are your hopes for the future, for your association and for your work? MY: I hope that we reach more people and more people find a good job and are no longer reliant on the job centre. LG: The thing is, children are the future. Children need a good school, an education. That’s a Route 2 Fighting on 75 The thing is, children are the future. Route 2 In conversation: Milena Yolova, Lajos Gabor very important point: to continue fighting for the children. MY: We offer study groups. The children can do their homework and improve their language skills with a colleague We want to tell the story of the Roma positively, including in these times. twice a week after school. FSL: I wish you all the best for your continuing work! Let’s hope for better times. Thank you very much for the wonderful discussion! Route 2 76 The Laboratory of Manuel Bürger X You are here XX X Das Ruhrgebiet ist Heimat von über 180 Nationalitäten. .‫ جنسية‬180 ‫تعد منطقة الرور موطنًا ألكثر من‬ The Ruhr region is home to more than 180 nationalities. XX Die Zukunft ist ein Superkontinent: Pangaea Ultima. .‫ بانجيا ألتيما‬:‫المستقبل هو القارة العظمى‬ The future is a supercontinental configuration: Pangaea Ultima. In conversation: Georg Kentrup 78 Finding othe买 languages The Consol Theater is a lively cultural venue with a large responsibility for the cultural education and social cohesion of people of all ages and backgrounds. The Consol Theater’s award-winning professional productions deal specifically with the living realities of their young audience. Realising participatory and self-empowering artistic projects not only for Gelsenkirchen citizens, but also with them, is the central idea behind the Volxbühne at Consol Theater. More than 120 amateurs from all over the region, aged from 6 to 92 years, work with professional directors, theatre pedagogues, and musicians on various courses and projects. Route 2 Finding other languages 79 Fabian Saavedra-Lara (FSL): Dear Georg, in the interviews for the timeline section of the book we always begin with a bit of a review with our interviewees. In which contexts was there contact between the Consol Theater and Interkultur Ruhr? What were the collaborative projects and plans? I am thinking, for example, of the project with Gigo Propaganda. Georg Kentrup (GK): Exactly: – Weisheit(en)! (Wisdom[s]) was a project that should definitely be highlighted. It was a biographical street art project with refugee seniors who have always lived in Germany. But before that I would like to say that the approach of even having interculturalism as a theme was very, very important to us. The Zukunftsakademie NRW had already given us some inspiration. But the consistency with which you were permanently approachable, and made us aware of these themes, led to the fact that there is now a very different mindset when we create new projects or set out the framework of a project, so that it shifts into the foreground as an interdisciplinary theme. I find the inspiration you gave very important. So, with our focus on child and youth theatre – and a very participatory approach – we have just started to grapple with how we integrate people who have not been present at all here so far. And we found that a very important aspect to begin with. Alongside the project with Gigo, we have been involved with each other time and again, first and foremost as part of our European youth theatre project europefiction. In 2019 we had 120 young Europeans here at Consol Theater for a summer camp. It was extremely important for us that you were there on a panel of experts at the evening campfire. How we actually handle multilingualism has played a big role for us time and again. What role does identity play? Not only for refugees or people from Eastern Europe, but also in the context of a European youth theatre project, in which Dutch, Hungarian, French and English youths were also involved, some of them with their own migration stories. How does our handling of native languages and work with artistic theatre function at all? FSL: And what are your approaches? GK: Above all, to try things out, to explore new fields, to work with translations, to push the limits – also the limitations of translations, which show that languages function very differently, that one-toone translation is not always the answer, rather that there is something else. In europefiction we realised that a physical encounter with young refugees and German-speaking youths works much better than trying to solve it intellectually using linguistic forms. It is about finding other languages that are not of a purely verbal nature. Route 2 In conversation: Georg Kentrup 80 We made an application to Fonds Darstellende Künste (Fund for Performing Arts) as part of take part, in order to establish an intercultural, transcultural advisory board for theatre. That is something that I have been fighting for for five or six years. But ultimately the inspiration for wanting to get such a process underway, in order to depict urban society in all its heterogeneity and diversity, and to integrate this in the proactive programming of the theatre, came from discussions with you. FSL: You said that, inspired by discussions on interculturalism, you began to find formats to connect very different people to your theatre or to reach out to them with your theatre. You have just mentioned the advisory board and the topic of multilingualism. What effect do these tools have on your work? GK: I think for us it opened doors with regards to the urban integration centre, for example, with whom we had relatively few points of intersection beforehand. Suddenly, we are both trying to get collaborative projects off the ground, because there is now a personal relationship, all the way to financing possibilities that are suddenly emerging and which we, as an independent theatre, also need. But there are also different groupings, like the mosque community in the neighbourhood, with whom we have been in contact and in communication for a long time. For us, interculturalism is more an interdis- ciplinary topic. In every new production, in every new project, we pay attention to all the aspects that relate to the topic from the start. FSL: In our work, Johanna and I have also observed that initiatives such as ZAK NRW, which sadly no longer exists, but also Interkultur Ruhr, can be very important as an impetus. Of course, we have also seen time and again what the structural limits of these projects can be. Do you perhaps have a couple of concrete ideas about what is actually missing, or how funding bodies can offer better support in order to promote the theme of interculturalism or transculturalism? GK: For independent institutions, like us, it makes sense – in a very banal way – to create funding pools to which we can file proposals. In this way you can realise very specific projects that have things like this as their focus. In the period after the European Capital of Culture (2010) up until one or two years ago, there was a good base for that, but parallel to the end of ZAK, it has actually slipped a bit into the background. Now all the more because of Corona. But that is another topic. What is lacking are networked projects that work across the city. We had stretched our feelers out towards Ringlokschuppen Mühlheim and have also had some good conversations, but no collective projects have really come out of that. For us, europefiction is the only par- Route 2 Finding other languages 81 ticipatory cooperative project with other theatres at the moment. I would find it very helpful if there was more thought in this direction. And of course, the question of how much you can speak to the different generations is also an important point – the project with Gigo showed us that. That we should move away a little from pure youth or young adult themes, which seem to be very much in the foreground, and also primarily musical projects. We should work towards a societal debate that affects many, many older people, who are also interested in it and have questions, but require a very different mediation. We are planning an inter-religious project with seniors in Gelsenkirchen in 2021, in collaboration with the Jewish community and mosque communities. There are many possibilities to address these issues. FSL: When you look back on recent years, how have the sociopolitical debates on post-migrant society shaped your work? GK: Because we work a) in Gelsenkirchen, b) in the Ruhr region and c) in a children’s and youth theatre, we come into contact with almost all these movements in advance – this situation isn’t really new to us. I have the impression that the Ruhr region is a laboratory of the future for everything to do with social movements, but hasn’t recognised this potential itself. I find it very, very exciting, and it also differentiates us from other regions. Gelsenkirchen is some- how at the forefront of the whole thing. The great thing is, because we work primarily with children and young people, we very quickly see developments that are perhaps not yet scientifically or socially reflected, but we can already sense and pick up something about them in a raw state and also, ultimately, in an incorrect state. Whether that is called intercultural, transcultural or something else, is, I think, not at all in the foreground. The discussions must be had, no question. I have the impression that the Ruhr region is a laboratory of the future for everything to do with social movements, but hasn’t recognised this potential itself. But for us it is important to pick up these developments and to process and also artistically realise all the associated themes. This need has certainly increased greatly through the developments of the last few years and accelerated many accompanying processes. I see the fact that there was a kind of intellectual reflection on the whole thing, for example from you, or from ZAK, as all the more positive. Although I only really understood ZAK when they published their closing documentation. Initially I thought: now they are going too, Route 2 In conversation: Georg Kentrup 82 and we’ll have to start again with the whole thing. But you have left something good behind. The work on the ground is incumbent on institutions like us, anyway. In this respect, I also hope in your case that the impulses you were involved in creating continue to resonate. I think it would make sense if theatres and other cultural institutions could provide offerings that really are for everyone. FSL: What are your goals and hopes for the future in your theatre, in your projects? We are currently in a difficult time for everyone, including the cultural field, in which not much can be planned or organised. We don’t know how things are going to go or when we will be able to see each other again. Also, for us as Interkultur Ruhr, it is totally up in the air and in doubt as to whether things like events will even be possible again. We now also do lots digitally, but we realise time and again that not everything can be translated into the digital realm and that is no substitute for personal encounter. GK: You can really see it in the planned collective project for breaking fast, which we actually wanted to realise in our theatre in May 2020. Something like that cannot be implemented digitally. There are very many areas that are based on encounter and collective experience and which cannot take place now. On top of that, there are real difficulties in using this digital space with regards, for example, to refugees and many migrant groups, which are caused by social differences. That is also an experience that we have had in many courses, in many projects, where of course many dedicated parents continue to send their kids to their digital groups, but for others the path to participation often remains barred. There are linguistic, but often also economic reasons that children and young people cannot regularly take part in Zoom conferences. This really is a sad experience. I hope that we can reconnect that very, very quickly. I think there is nothing better than a physical encounter and real physical collective work. I think it would make sense if theatres and other cultural institutions could provide offerings that really are for everyone and offer points of reference for artistic relationship work without hurdles. For example, using languages Route 2 Finding other languages 83 that are not verbal, in which those interested don’t have to occupy spaces that only work on the level of language, but can work with aesthetic or musical expression. I hope that this potential will be recognised much more for its value for creating togetherness in the future, in which it is not only about artistic quality, but really about creating artistic expression and encounters and mutual spaces of experience. We have had many positive experiences and have seen that there are also other forms with which you can move and achieve something. FSL: Dear Georg, I would like to thank you very much for this discussion. All the best for your continuing work! Route 2 In conversation: Christian Wagemann, Rahim Darwisha 84 The goal was clear CHRISTIAN WAGEMANN AND RAHIM DARWISHA FROM 47 E.V. ON A PLACE FOR DIFFERENCE AND PRACTICAL ANTI-RACISM IN SELF-ORGANISED SOCIOCULTURE ▒▓░╟p.301 ‫▒▓░╣ترجمة‬ Christian Wagemann came to Duisburg to study and has been involved in the political struggle for open spaces for years. He co-initiated Refugee Support at the University of Duisburg-Essen. He is a co-founder of the association 47 e.V. and a staff member of the Stapeltor initiative. Rahim Darwisha is a co-founder of the association 47 e.V. He advocated for political self-representation at Refugee Support and worked in a youth centre in Duisburg for many years. He is currently a staff member of the Stapeltor initiative. 47 e.V. sees itself as a bridge between cultures, generations and social classes. For those involved it is not about one-sided integration, but rather interaction between everyone. From its beginnings as a shopfront project in Duisburg city centre, 47 e.V. is now sponsoring an upcoming sociocultural centre in Duisburg. Route 2 The goal was clear 85 Johanna-Yasirra Kluhs (JYK): What’s behind 47? Christian Wagemann (CW): A DJ collective, Soundsalat. Be Neighbours, a young group that stages urban political-cultural actions. And Refugee Support from the university, which we started to create visibility for the problems faced by refugees at the start of 2015. Personal intersections and friendships arose out of that. 47 began in an empty hairdresser’s salon on Münzstraße, where 30 to 40 people met to think about what we wanted to do there. JYK: Rahim, how did you get involved? Rahim Darwisha (RD): I met Christian and the others in 2016 at Refugee Support. After one and a half years we decided to leave the university, so that other people could also get involved. I wanted to get to know the city, the culture, the people. I like that, these social things. I did that in Turkey, in Syria, everywhere. Why not here? JYK: What took place in Münzstraße? RD: Many things. An open, free space: simply being able to come in and get to know each other. Concerts, jam sessions, readings, a bar, open evenings, a parents’ café. We have also hosted international political evenings about Sudan, Brazil, Syria, and Afghanistan. We made a film. Held a table football tournament. We had a lot of fun. Celebrated Christmas. Yes, the atmosphere was great. That was also a big change – my number of friends and acquaintances doubled. JYK: And who did you reach? CW: A mixture, I think. The circle of friends of those involved. There isn’t much going on in Duisburg. That’s why many people just came by. And then, of course, many people from the neighbourhood who looked through the window: “Huh, what’s this? Who does it belong to? What do you mean ‘no one’? What do you mean, ‘everyone’? Who is the boss here then?” “No one.” “Ok.” And they came in and drank a cup of tea, or a beer. Of course, we advertised the events in the window. And of course, we also wanted to offer a place for refugees to organise or for people who don’t otherwise have any resources or spaces in society to pursue their concerns or needs. RD: It was a big challenge for me with refugees, describing it when I invited people. “Where?” “Just a free space for everyone, there is no boss, we are all equal there, just come over.” I felt as if many people didn’t understand. It was hard for me to find the right term. Now, after two years, I would say I have spoken a lot about it and it’s a bit better, but I still have to work on it. JYK: I thought it was exciting how a young, left-wing student scene – party people, self-organised – mixed with neighbours. That wasn’t always easy. I remember conflictual moments. How do you do it, when you want to keep such a space open, with such an extreme aspiration Route 2 In conversation: Christian Wagemann, Rahim Darwisha 86 for heterogeneity or diversity? It isn’t all love, peace and harmony on its own, it is actually lots of work. What are our house rules, which ethics do we all agree on? Where are there limits, but where does there also need to be openness when my own boundaries are crossed? For me, this discussion is under the motto “self-organised together”. Sure, the first thing you think of is typical left-wing culture in Germany, which has admittedly often remained white. It also picks up on the tradition of so-called migrant self-organisation. There are many places in the city where people meet, where educational opportunities, cultural and political work takes place – from various diasporas. In which tradition do you place your work in the past, but perhaps also in the future? CW: Ultimately it was an attempt. Perhaps these previous left-wing discourses that we all learned and lived through are no longer enough when you want to offer a space for differences, create understanding, and do political educational work. We pretty much jumped into the deep end with such an open space. How do you reach people who wouldn’t otherwise go into an autonomous social centre? And when there is conflict, then you have to just see how you deal with it. What is our strategy as lefties, who want to organise ourselves and places, and at the same time also have the goal of influencing society in general? RD: So, as a newcomer in Duisburg, it was very important for I did that in Turkey, me to feel I belonged to a group. in Syria, That was the first step, and then everywhere. there was the question: what do I want to achieve here in Duisburg? Why not here? I found myself there and I think we managed to bring people together. All of us. The goal has always been clear: we are doing something good, and also trying to prevent something. Everyone contributes ideas, and then we see what happens. JYK: Would you actually say that you do intercultural work with 47 e.V. then? CW: When we started, “intercultural” was the key word in discourse, and I could somehow see myself in that. Interaction between cultures. If you look at it now, from the limited perspective of how it is often used, then it is somehow no longer the right word, because it seems too caught up in individual cultures. So people say “transcultural”. But if I think about it again, how it actually goes beyond this background perspective, then “intercultural” does seem very appropriate to me, because it means entering into an interaction in society, beyond our bubbles. It doesn’t necessarily have to have anything to do with migration. It can also mean that some white German middle-class Route 2 The goal was clear 87 people pass by and first have to reflect on their culture. And I feel like this is part of the task if we are talking about socioculture: to achieve social interaction through cultural offerings and political education, but perhaps also simply to understand democracy and praxis and life in solidarity with each other. I wouldn’t directly reject the term. RD: Yes, for me that was the invitation to have an intercultural place. Although I feel as if most are white Germans. I am critical of us now. We are trying to do better with Stapeltor. I see it as my task to invite refugees and people with a migratory background. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. We have a couple of ideas, for example to celebrate Ramadan in Stapeltor with two or three hundred people, half of them Muslim, the others non-Muslim. Also something with Black groups, Kurdish groups … JYK: You no longer have the shop on Münzstraße. You didn’t have a site for a while, and now you are the association behind this initiative to build a sociocultural centre, Stapeltor, which is still in its genesis. What are the plans for this centre? CW: As Rahim just said: of course we didn’t achieve what we intended. It would also have been an illusion if we just opened up a shopfront project and everything was totally diverse, and everyone was somehow represented. At the same time, there’s also the question of resources: we didn’t have any funds at all. Fortunately, we received financing for the start from you, but then continued to pay rent. And thankfully we have resources to develop this centre for now. But only for one year. We are now building up an institution that should establish itself in the long term as a centre in the city, because there aren’t any. How likely that is depends on the city authorities and whether promises are kept. We will create posts, then hopefully start to do projects semi-professionally, such as anti-racism workshops and lots of selfreflection, as well as the organisational development and empowerment programmes that are needed in order to achieve these goals. RD: I imagine a network in Stapeltor, for example. Contact with other groups and regular projects. I would say we are doing the same as in Münzstraße, but a bit bigger. Better structure and communication. There are many ideas. JYK: The history of initiatives, shopfront projects and associations is very closely related to the political events around 2015 and the increased attention on migration caused by flight. Perhaps you can think back to this once again: what has changed since then and what has stayed the same, both in your lives and in your praxis as activists and cultural workers? CW: 2015/2016 was when the left-wing part of general society saw that it was time to do something. To stand in solidarity and to counter political injustices. I think that we were actually too late with this project. Route 2 In conversation: Christian Wagemann, Rahim Darwisha 88 In that moment, when many people wanted to do something, we should have immediately organised a display of everyday solidarity, which could somehow consolidate itself beyond the applauding of migrants arriving on trains. We just didn’t manage it, with a lack of resources and support from politics. And then a lethargy and a hopelessness crept in somehow, because the social conditions here aren’t at all democratic or fair. How should we say to people: “We have a great project over here, come over”? And now, four or five years later, children in Moria are being gnawed at by rats and no one is doing anything. Such a lack of ideas. I also observe it in myself. There are so many points that we must resist, but somehow we don’t know how. I would say that the alternative cultural scene must be political nowadays, and at the same time the political self-understanding of activist circles has to break open a little in order to be more culturally responsive. And I think that we are now trying to do both in Stapeltor. RD: I arrived in Germany in 2016. There were many difficulties for refugees: the language, the bureaucracy … many things. My goal back then was to learn the language, to understand the culture, to make new contacts, to just get settled and find a job. Now we are here, live here, we are a part of this society. We have to be active as citizens here in Germany. Not only do we have to learn, we also have to give our opinion. Do our own projects. The idea of our life here in Germany has changed after four years. We can’t vote. That shouldn’t be the case in a democratic country. But nonetheless, we have a voice. We can show people that we are part of this society, that we don’t have to integrate, we just have to live. Just like everyone else. We can learn something, but we also have to give something. Many people don’t agree with me. Perhaps they are just disappointed or can’t be bothered after what they have experienced in Syria. We have to find a solution. We have to talk to these people differently, we have to convince people: you can achieve something, you can do something. We have to change the laws. The difficulties for refugees in officialdom have increased since 2016. Deportations, for example. In Europe generally, the laws have become worse, also because of the right-wing movement. If we don’t resist, it will just get worse. JYK: As a space for political organisation, Stapeltor has historical continuity. Many of the so-called migrant self-organisation groups were also founded in order to be a forum for political participation, because they were refused the right to vote. And still are. There has been a huge discourse around this for decades in Germany. It is really interesting to listen to what you are saying, Rahim. The problems remain and are getting worse in some cases. RD: Yes, the integration council vote, for example. I have spoken with various acquaintances about it and none of them voted. And Route 2 The goal was clear 89 if I ask why, then they say, for example: “Yeah, what changes? It’s just bullshit. My vote doesn’t do anything.” They are disappointed. We have to rebuild this trust. I understand these people, they have gone through lots of shit. I am 33 and have never had the chance to vote. That means we never learned about it, we have no concept of why it is important. That’s why we need political education. JYK: Pangaea Ultima is a speculative hypothesis from the geosciences, which suggests that in two hundred million years, all of the continents may become one continent again. We like to say that the Ruhr region is already a Pangaea somehow. And we can talk about its challenges. Your initiative already exists. What do you expect of the future? CW: I hope that the fascists die out and we, the ones who want everyone to have the same rights, become the majority. And I hope that those who are not fascists We have a voice. themselves realise that their concept We can show people of democracy is crumbling. They that we are part of this don’t realise that people without society, that we don’t a German passport have no democratic rights. Perhaps one of the have to integrate, medium-term goals is that all people we just have to live. who live in Germany get the right to vote here. And nothing less than that Just like everyone is negotiable. This Pangaea image else. is very territorial and I think the Ruhr region is not at all together, rather there are borders and walls all over. Even if the trains go from one city to another. It is about tearing down these walls. RD: I hope that we no longer have to talk about the issue of “integration” in the future. If I, for example, go to a city and see that everyone is speaking out against racism, my first impression is that it’s really good that everyone is speaking out against racism. But that also means there is a big problem with racism in this city. I hope that we no longer have to talk about this issue in five years’ time. There is a racist sentiment in Germany. Some people are anti-racists, but only theoretically. But what they say or how they behave is racist. How can I be really anti-racist? If it was just normal, then I wouldn’t have to ask the question “Where do you come from?” anymore. There’s lots of work here, but the first step is simple: bringing people together so they get to know each other. I am optimistic. JYK: I would like to address the big elephant in the room: what does Corona mean for your work? For many it is a big moment that somehow feels historic. CW: I thought the elephant you were talking about was capitalism! But it fits together, as we are currently experiencing how all of the state’s Route 2 In conversation: Christian Wagemann, Rahim Darwisha 90 capacity for action is being used to save capitalism and not to defeat the pandemic. Perhaps this is another chance to show people: yes, that’s what we mean the whole time when we say that the conditions Some people capitalism. Perhaps we can are anti-racists, but serve somehow manage to fight against only theoretically. this kind of politics in solidarity. But what they say RD: For me personally, it was the worst year of my life. I barely or how they behave managed to get anything done. Of is racist. course, this was because of Corona. I don’t like how we are behaving during the pandemic. For example, this term “social distancing” – why social, why not physical? I feel as if relationships between people are worsening in general. As if I am afraid of others and others are afraid of me. We can say a lot about capitalism. But it is a real challenge to live normally in this period. We just have to wait until it is over. Route 2 The Laboratory of Manuel Bürger ΚΑΛΩΣ ΗΛΘΑΤΕ ΣΤΗΝ ΠΑΓΓΑΙΑ ԲԱՐԻ ԳԱԼՈ՛ՒՍՏ ՊԱՆԵԱ WELCOME TO PANGAEA ‫مرحبًا بكم في بانجيا‬ 판게아에 오신 것을 환영합니다! ᲙᲔᲗᲘᲚᲘ ᲘᲧᲝᲡ ᲗᲥᲕᲔᲜᲘ ᲛᲝᲑᲠᲫᲐᲜᲔᲑᲐ ᲞᲐᲜᲒᲔᲐᲨᲘ Princela Biyaa, Marny Garcia Mommertz 92 Slide: Ellen Diderich, Photo: Princela Biyaa, Marny Garcia Mommertz Princela Biyaa, Marny Garcia Mommertz 93 “Her name is FasÍa. It’s a Vai name, you know?” How Fasia Jansen’s life stages can be viewed from a Black German perspective ▒▓░╟Tradução, p.272╣░▓▒ Princela Biyaa is an educational advisor and commutes between the Ruhr region and Berlin as a cultural worker. Marny Garcia Mommertz is a curator and cultural producer with experience in institutions and collectives throughout South America and Europe. Biyaa and Mommertz are collaborating on an artistic research project about Fasia Jansen. Route 1 Princela Biyaa, Marny Garcia Mommertz "Her name is FasÍa. I know that you Germans like to pronounce Fasia’s name without stressing the I, but that’s how you say it correctly. It is a Vai name, you know? We are Vai people!" This is one of the first things Vivian Seton tells us, Princela Biyaa and Marny Garcia Mommertz, about her beloved aunt Fasia Jansen. Fasia Jansen, born in Hamburg in 1928, was a Black German singer-songwriter, musician and peace activist. After surviving the Holocaust, she moved to the Ruhr area, where she supported initiatives such as the Hoesch Women with her political engagement and musical talent. She died in 1997 in Oberhausen. Her work and impact in the Ruhr region, still present today, inspired Interkultur Ruhr and Internationales Frauen* Film Fest Dortmund+Köln (IFFF) (International Women's Film Festival) to announce a two-month artistic research residency. We then jointly applied to work out how Fasia Jansen's life experiences could be viewed from Black German perspectives. This was a concern for us because, after visits to Fasia Jansen’s former partner Ellen Dietrich in Oberhausen in May 2020, we knew how much information about Fasia Jansen had been collected and archived. At the same time, however, it would become clear that the materials were predominantly gathered by white-German feminist sources and authors. As we were already preparing for the first month of the residency in October 2020, we discovered that most of the existing archived materials did not help provide information about Fasia Jansen and her story. It was difficult for us to establish a connection to Fasia Jansen as a person through the materials or to find personal points of contact. To make progress and to better assess her as a person, we tried to find Black people who had known Fasia Jansen personally. Route 1 94 Her name is FasÍa. It’s a Vai name, you know? A central question that framed our research was the question of Fasia Jansen's relation to her own and to global Blackness, as well as to the Afro-German movement. Above all, the rich interviews that the African-American researcher and scholar Tina Campt conducted with Fasia Jansen in 1992 were very helpful to us here. The interview in which Tina Campt specifically asked Fasia Jansen about her blackness was, admittedly, a turning point for our research, as we could gather very little about these aspects from Fasia Jansen's songs, letters or written interviews. Hearing her soft and sometimes quiet voice speak about her Black identity, hearing her reflect, made her more accessible to us. "I have never called myself an Afro-German. I don't work like that in the movement, in the German-African movement. I have always worked with white Germans or other foreigners, and a few years ago I thought about the fact that you can't just say: I am a German, but I am an Afro-German ... none of that existed when I was so young, like these young people, these Afro-Germans, who are all much younger than me ... There was no such association of Afro-Germans and therefore no such awareness of being an Afro-German ... They always made you feel, yes, that you are not a real German at all." (Fasia Jansen, interview with Tina Campt, Oberhausen, Germany 02.02.1992) Tina Campt's interview gave Fasia Jansen space not only to talk about being black but also to reflect on her position within German society. We were surprised to find that this was (and still is) the only in-depth reflection we could find from Fasia Jansen about her identity as a Black German. The interview revealed to us answers to questions that had been previously left unanswered and which, we discovered, Route 1 95 Princela Biyaa, Marny Garcia Mommertz only Fasia Jansen herself could answer through the interview with Tina Campt. For example, after Ellen Dietrich shared some of Fasia Jansen's inscriptions, it struck us that there were hardly any handwritten notes or diary entries to be found from her. This was surprising because several people from Fasia Jansen's close circle had told us that she had kept frequent diaries and that these books still existed. In her interview, she told Tina Campt the following: "I just threw away a bunch of diaries now. Everything fell over. They were so horrified. I say, I don't want this ... I don't want this. I don't want it! I want to burn everything. That's how it was. I want to burn everything. I don't want that, I want to stand somewhere, almost naked, with the knowledge I have now. I have a passion for collecting. You can find articles from 1947, it's like an archive. And now I've sorted it out. Whole sacks full." (Fasia Jansen, interview with Tina Campt, Oberhausen, Germany 04.02.1992). The fact that Fasia Jansen has made her intimate inscriptions inaccessible to posterity and that archiving was at the same time important to her challenged us to what point we would like to and could we reach in Fasia Jansen's life. It also confronted us with fundamental questions of archiving and the destruction of archives, which is something we consciously want to deal with more intensively in our second month of residency. One more person whose stories we will continue to work with and who was able to tell us partly undocumented aspects of Fasia Jansen's life is her niece Vivian Seton, mentioned at the beginning. She gave us valuable insights into how important her Black family was to Fasia Jansen. Vivian Seton reported as follows: Route 1 96 Her name is FasÍa. It’s a Vai name, you know? "In 1968 my mother and I were in Hamburg, Germany. We called Fasia on her phone in Oberhausen to let her know that we were there. It was around 8 pm in the evening and getting late. Can you believe... The next morning at 7 am the doorbell rang. It was Fasia standing there. Can you imagine! She had travelled all night long to come and see us. She stayed with us for one month and it was beautiful. So, you see, Fasia and my mother, they were very close. They were sisters. I would even say that my mother was one of the people Fasia was closest with." (Seton / Biyaa / Mommertz 2020) Vivian Seton was the only child of Fasia Jansen's sister, Princess Fatima Massaquoi. Her mother and aunt were children of the Liberian Consul General Momolu Massaquoi and lived in Hamburg in the 1930s. In our conversation, it quickly became clear why Vivian Seton was considered the keeper of her family's history. She has a photographic memory and vividly remembers stories related to her as a little girl and various family experiences. Through her extraordinary talent for storytelling, we soon got a rough idea of who the Vai were and are, and especially how political activism and leadership has run through the different generations of the Massaquoi family. Vivian Seton told us about her great-grandmother Queen Fatima Sandimannie, Fasia Jansen's paternal grandmother: "VS: She [Queen Fatima Sandimannie] was married to a man called King Armmar. But Armmar was older and did not live long. So, when he died, the throne would have naturally fallen to his brother, because his sons were not yet ready. So, my great grandmother fought him. She said she did not want him to become king of the Vai people around Lake Piso. If you look on the map you will see in Liberia there is a lake Route 1 97 Princela Biyaa, Marny Garcia Mommertz called Lake Piso […] So, she fought Armmar and she won. She went to battle herself. MGM: Wait, wait, wait. She fought, like physically fought? VS: Physically! MGM: With what? VS: With the spear. MGM: She fought him with the spear? VS: I am telling you this thing! She fought physically. This war lasted a couple of years. She was a strong woman. She was a brave woman. […] My mother’s grandmother. My great-grandmother. I have to write down this story because it will tell you about me. The woman I come from was a leader […] She, later on, married King Lahai Kayamba, a Massaquoi king, who was much younger than her […] Because the Massaquois were so powerful, they always had skirmishes [with other people] and as a result, she had my grandfather [Momulu Massaquoi] on the battlefield underneath a Kola nut tree […] She had him there and his umbilical cord is buried under a Kola nut tree. So, I have been there. […] You know, in Africa the Kola nut tree has a lot of significance.” (Seton / Mommertz 2020) In good addition to the life of her great-grandmother, Vivian Seton also reported on the extraordinary life of her mother, Princess Fatima Massaquoi, which can be found in the book An Autobiography of an African Princess. In the 1930s, after Momolu Massaquoi left Hamburg to return to Liberia, Princess Fatima Massaquoi taught in his stead at the University of Hamburg. She spent several war years in Germany before emigrating to the USA. During this time, she had no contact with her sister Fasia. Route 1 98 Her name is FasÍa. It’s a Vai name, you know? "You have to understand the circumstances they were in. Everything was surveilled and sending letters from the US to Germany was dangerous and could potentially raise many questions and problems." (Seton / Biyaa / Mommertz 2020) What resonates from the conversations with Vivian Seton are the many connections and references we were provided with, and especially the small glimpse she gave us into her family history. Because of this, the conversation about Fasia Jansen turned into a conversation about the lives of the Massaquoi family and especially Fasia Jansen's sister Fatima Massaquoi, which left us with many questions and new insights. These included, for example, that in the 1930s there was a Black woman who studied and taught at university in Germany. And so what would Fatima Massaquoi's experience of National Socialism have been like? Some of Fasia Jansen's experiences at that time are documented and can be read in FASIA - Geliebte Rebellin (Achenbach 2004). The book portrays Fasia Jansen's life: from her growing up in the Hamburg working class with her mother, grandmother and stepfather, who as a worker and communist, turned out to be a road sign for her later political activism, to her traumatising experiences under the Nazi regime, and finally to her relocation and political engagement in the Ruhrgebiet. Now, at the beginning of our second month of residency, we are faced with the question of how to link the fragments described above. In the first months of 2021, we will deal with these and other questions around people who have deeply interacted with Fasia Jansen's life. We understand our residency as a process and an exploration that will not end even after the official end of the residency. Route 1 99 Princela Biyaa, Marny Garcia Mommertz 100 Acknowledgements Our thanks to Vivian Seton for sharing so much about her family with great passion and openness. Ellen Dietrich for exciting conversations and delicious food, which we hope to continue in 2021. We also sincerely thank Tina Campt for digitising and providing the audiotapes of the interview she conducted with Fasia Jansen. We are grateful to be able to use her work as part of our foundation. References Fasia Jansen, Interview with Tina Campt, Oberhausen 02.02.1992. Fasia Jansen, Interview with Tina Campt, Oberhausen 04.02.1992. Marina Achenbach et al., Fasia – geliebte Rebellin, ed. Fasia-JansenStiftung, Oberhausen 2004. Vivian Seton, Interview with Marny Garcia Mommertz, Whatsapp 14.12.2020. Vivian Seton, Interview with Princela Biyaa and Marny Garcia Mommertz, Whatsapp 22.10.2020. Open call's text for the Residency available online at https://interkultur.ruhr/kalender/ruhrgebiet-in-bewegung-fasia-jansen-ausschreibung-einer-kuenstlerischen-recherche-residenz (April 2021). Route 1 Rukiye Satır, Remziye Satır Akkuş, Eylem Satır Özcan and Aynur Satır Akça, daughters of Ferdane Satır, sisters of Çiğdem Satır, Ümit Satır, Songül Satır and Zeliha Turhan, sisters-in-law of Rasim Turhan, aunts of Tarık Turhan. Photo: Jasper Kettner, from the exhibition and book project Die Angehörigen with Ibrahim Arslan. Bengü Kocatürk-Schuster, Ceren Türkmen 103 ▒▓░╟Çeviri p.264╣░▓▒ The history of racist violence, between structural racism, political mourning and the struggle for civil rights AN ORAL HISTORY PERSPECTIVE For Alessandro Russo, who shaped the sound of Duisburg in impressive fashion (21/3/1979–23/4/2021). Route 3 Bengü Kocatürk-Schuster, Ceren Türkmen 104 Ren ile Rur’un kavuştuğu yerde bulunan şehir, yedi yüz yerinden yırtıla yırtıla, kara bir çiçek gibi büyümüştü. Gittikçe de büyüyordu. Sokaklarında Avrupa’nın, Asya’nın, Afrika’nın başka başka ülkelerinden gelmiş göçmen işçilerin çocukları sinek sürüleri gibi savruluyordu. Hamborn’un Meiderich’in, Hochfeld’in, Rheinhausen’in yüzyıl önce yapılmış evlerinde oturan işçilerin çocukları, her renkten, her soydan, boydan savruluyordu. (Baykurt 1982:44) 1 Ghosts of the past On 14 April 2019, at around 1:30 pm, in the Duisburg district of Wanheimerort, we meet up with the photographer Jasper Kettner and Rukiye Satır, the second-oldest of the four Satır sisters. The other three, Remziye Satır Akkuş, Aynur Satır Akça and Eylem Satır Özcan, are joining us soon. Rukiye Satır seems agitated on this spring day, puffing frantically on her roll-up cigarette and repeatedly looking at her phone with an expression of worry on her face. She organised the meeting of the four sisters and has been encouraging the others to take part in the exhibition and book project Die Angehörigen2 for days. Now she is unsure if they will all actually turn up for the photo shoot. Some of the sisters haven’t seen each other for a long time. We are meeting at Wanheimerstaße 301. The ten members of the Satır family lived here until the arson attack in 1984. Like all the residents of the house, they were a so-called Gastarbeiter family too. 3 Ceren Türkmen is a sociologist, activist and lecturer at the Alice Salomon Hochschule in Berlin. Her areas of focus are racism, migration (policy), racial capitalism, hegemony analysis and urban social movements. She has been active in self-organised migrant and anti-racist groups since the mid-1990s. She founded Initiative Duisburg 1984 in 2017 and is a board member of the Institut für Solidarische Moderne. Bengü Kocatürk-Schuster is a child of Gastarbeiter parents who came to Germany in 1969. As a long-standing employee of DOMiD, the Documentation Centre and Museum of Migration in Germany, she has been involved in numerous exhibition projects on the history of migration. She is currently occupied with expanding the collection and preparing for the migration museum that is soon to open in Cologne. As an active member of Initiative Duisburg 1984, she is involved in other anti-racist coalitions and projects. Route 3 The history of racist violence, (…) 105 In the night from 26 to 27 August 1984, these four sisters lose seven of their family members. Rukiye and Aynur jump out of the second floor of the old building onto the road. Miraculously they survive, though severely injured. Döndü, Çiğdem, Ümit and Songül Satır, Zeliha, Rasim and Tarık Turhan, on the other hand, lose their lives on this night. Many other occupants of the house suffer serious injuries. The arson attack cannot be resolved, neither legally nor civically, for nine years: there is no perpetrator. Clues pointing towards racist right-wing motives are evident from the beginning, but neither the police nor the political apparatus follow them up. Instead they rule out political and therefore racist motives early on. The case is forgotten. It is not until 1994 that a woman is arrested. She is thought to have committed an attack on an asylum seekers’ home in the north of Duisburg in 1993, at the time of the pogrom against migrant accommodation. Evelyn D. is diagnosed with pyromania – she is found guilty, convicted by forensic report and placed in a psychiatric ward.4 While still in custody, she confesses to having committed the arson attack on the house in Wanheimerstraße as well. There is finally a perpetrator. But the authorities do not look for racist or right-wing motives. They are content with the confession. In an exceedingly brief announcement, the local press reports that the trial against the “pyromaniac” has ended and the attack in 1984 is thus resolved.5 The answer to the question that those affected will have to carry with them for the rest of their lives fails to materialise: why did they have to lose their relatives? Over the years the shroud over the arson attack in 1984 becomes a lead blanket. The local urban community no longer remembers it 35 years on. At most, a contradictory piece of common knowledge circulates that there “was some kind of accident back then”. No one talks about an arson attack anymore. But those you confront with it today, especially migrants, sense that it is still an unsolved crime. They stay silent, stricken with pain. But what does it mean for victims of fascist and racist violence when the state, judicial system and security apparatus make the motive of violence they have experienced invisible and unutterable? How is the experience of racist violence without legal resolution handed down? What should talking about racism and racist violence look like today in light of this historic amnesia? Which role does a historiography of racism from the perspective of those affected play in this? Route 3 Bengü Kocatürk-Schuster, Ceren Türkmen 106 In 2018, almost 35 years after the arson attack, the civil society Initiative Duisburg 1984 forms as an association of academics, artists, activists and neighbours. They work towards the social and legal clarification of the events of 1984 and 1993, for a collective commemoration of the victims and for political consequences against institutional and societal racism. In the beginning, the members of the initiative do not anticipate how thick the dust has grown on the files and how hard they will have to work against institutional disinterest in order to even intervene in the discourse on official historiography and urban memory. All they know is that history is not lifeless or dead, but rather arises from a living archive, and that those materials must be collected and analysed through participatory and associational work. Finally the other sisters also arrive. They all came in the end. After a short welcome, Rukiye points to the house, talking a little to break through the tense atmosphere. Aynur’s lips are pressed tightly together, she is very anxious and reserved. Eylem has a wary look on her face, she asks many questions. We are most worried about Remziye Satır, the oldest of the surviving sisters. She hardly speaks, but her eyes and her posture reveal pain, grief and anger. Her husband Suat Akkuş has to hold her up. We sit down in the snack bar on the ground floor. In the 1980s, a Yugoslavian Gastarbeiter family ran a restaurant here, where, as we find out later, Remziye and her husband celebrated their wedding in 1983. We feel a great distance, even between the sisters, to begin with. The more their trust grows, the more they talk. They cry and even laugh, their expressions relax – so much has remained unsaid until now: “Because no one has really talked to us in these ten years, because we are not informed of the investigations, because they don’t remember, because we didn’t count and were left to ourselves, because we noticed that the people in Duisburg did not know that there was this arson attack in 1984 and we lost seven members of our family, at some point I thought I have to forget it, so I don’t stand there as a liar. We even stopped talking about it in the family at some point,” Aynur Satır Akça says. They started their own families and got on with their lives without outside help. They tried to keep the negative emotions away from their children but unintentionally passed the trauma on to them. What they experienced defined their whole lives. Now they are starting to look for ways to put the power of memories into words. Route 3 The history of racist violence, (…) 107 The photographer Jaspar Kettner finds a moment and photographs the sisters. Looking at the photo, it is not immediately clear where it was taken, but the sisters’ evasive looks give it away. They are all looking in different directions, turning away from the catastrophe. They cannot find closure with the incident, because it is not resolved, because no social and political consequences have been drawn from the arson attack. The pain is transferred to the next generation. The picture is symbolic of the societal, institutional and political silence on racism. The sisters’ expressions stand for the impossibility for them to mourn their family members and for their own untold experience of racist violence. One hundred years ago, the civil rights campaigner, anti-colonial activist and sociologist W.E.B. du Bois spoke about the political dimension of mourning for the victims of racism. In his monumental book The Soul of Black Folk (1903), he describes, by means of the burial of his own son, how racism as an ideology of inequality not only distinguishes those supposedly “worthy of life” from those “unworthy of life”, but also dispossesses the death of those affected by racism of the chance of dignified mourning. “Not dead, not dead, but escaped”, writes Du Bois (Du Bois 1903:11).6 The remembering and dignified commemoration of victims of racist violence remains a struggle for the re-appropriation of commemoration through collective mourning. The importance for those affected is also clear in the example of Đô Mùi. She is the mother of Đỗ Anh Lân, who was killed along with Nguyễn Ngọc Châu by neo-Nazis in an arson attack on a refugee hostel in 1980. The murders of the young men are the first officially documented racist murders of migrants after the end of fascism in the Federal Republic of Germany. Đô Mùi not only mourns the murder of her son and his friend, but also denounces the fact that her wishes for a public memorial site have been ignored (Vu 2018). The feelings of the Satır family are similar. The Satır sisters cannot look at the house anymore. Even though they are standing close together in the picture, you can see the inner conflict that the incident forced on the family. The photo marks the start of a painful journey that the sisters decide to take together on this day. Finally they are allowed to speak the unspeakable, which has eaten at their bodies and souls for 35 years. They can finally mourn, ask for clarification, name their own perspectives and speculations. Route 3 Bengü Kocatürk-Schuster, Ceren Türkmen 108 Initiative Duisburg 1984 makes collective work with relatives visible, so that a public memorial site can be created in Duisburg according to the forms of remembrance and commemoration desired by those affected. The participatory work should be in tune with the many struggles of the migrant, anti-racist and anti-fascist democratising processes, so the fact that racism kills will never again be forgotten. The initiative has declared solidarity with the relatives, delved into local history, carried out oral history interviews, viewed files, taken legal advice, intervened in the political discourse and organised nationwide networking with others affected by racist violence. It has written, researched, made films, taken part in conferences, and realised the first of two public remembrance events in 2019 and 2020. Remembrance, civil society clarification and the demand for reparation are processes of empowerment. They contribute to breaking the racist complex and the spirals of structural victimisation. “What happened in Duisburg in 1984 should not only be known in Duisburg and nationwide, but around the whole world, so that it never happens again!” says Eylem Satır Özcan. Migrant knowledge and the documentation of the history of racist violence After years of self-organised research on the arson attack of 1984 and on the history of racist violence in West Germany before the fall of the Berlin Wall, the following can be reconstructed: The house in which the Satır family lived at the time was exclusively occupied by Gastarbeiter families and as such already marked by the right-wing and racists before the arson attack. According to a report published in Der Spiegel six weeks before the attack, swastikas had been daubed on the front door of the house. The summer of 1984 thus represented the climax of a racist and anti-immigration sociopolitical phase: migrant workers from non-EU states were to be forced back to their countries of origin through “repatriation policies”7 and “voluntary measures” within earshot of the “debate on foreign infiltration”. In this way a perfidious victim-perpetrator reversal was carried out. This mood was also influenced by polarising statements made by politicians. They spoke of the country “being flooded by foreigners” and “foreign infiltration”. The latter suits the specific character of right-wing violence: the perpetrators of racist murders and attacks felt like legitimate enforcers of a socio-Völkisch ideology for the salvation of nation and state. Route 3 The history of racist violence, (…) 109 Extreme right-wing groups were very active in West Germany at the start of the 1980s, and their politics were distinguished by increasing violence against migrants. Accordingly, critically-minded citizens of Duisburg immediately called for the authorities to investigate “xenophobia” as a motive after the arson attack. However, these critical voices were dismissed as the disinformation of left-wing troublemakers. In the national coverage there are just two examples (in the newspaper Konkret, Rosenbladt 1984, and Der Spiegel, 1984) that consider a possible right-wing motivation and show empathy with those affected. From Turkish media reports, for example the daily newspaper Milliyet, we know of two speculations following the arson attack: either a “Turkish-Yugoslavian gang war” or a right-wing neo-Nazi attack (Milliyet, 31/8/1984). In the German-language coverage those affected were not given a chance to speak, nor were the names of the victims documented. Instead, the so-called Turkish fellow citizens were labelled “foreign”. The main thing we can take away from the reports in the local press is the attempt to avoid a possible slur on the city’s reputation. One report quotes residents from Wanheimerort: “This crime has given our neighbourhood a bad reputation. That has to be put right.” In a reader’s letter from September 1984, the home of the Satır family was even disparagingly called “Turk house” and the victims of the arson attack ridiculed (WAZ, 29/08/1984). “No one listened, no one spoke about racism. Even in hospital the police asked the survivors whether they were in conflict with other families. The investigative authorities reversed the perpetrator-victim relationship, the perspectives of the survivors and relatives were made invisible. We immediately thought of xenophobia, we had always been spoken to as ‘Kanaken’, ‘black heads’ and ‘caraway Turks’. We also had good German friends, but many didn’t want us here back then. We could sense that,” Rukiye Satır remembers. Writing the history of racist violence in the 1980s – the Commoning-History-Archive! Between 1960 and 1990 it was primarily unskilled migrant labourers who worked in the ironworks of the Ruhr region, pouring and rolling out the red-hot steel in shifts and on a piecework basis (Jackson 1997). Ramazan Satır, the father of the four sisters, also worked for the steel processor Thyssen. The residential areas that were exclusively inhabited by Gastarbeiter were informally Route 3 Bengü Kocatürk-Schuster, Ceren Türkmen 110 referred to as “Turk estates”, irrespective of whether migrants from Turkey really lived there, or whether there were also people from Italy, Yugoslavia, Tunisia or Lebanon. They all just lived in a “Turk estate”, because this term did not primarily designate the country of origin, but rather the social status of disenfranchised, marginalised and racialised migrants. 35 years later it would seem as if the few “German” neighbours from back then have moved away completely. Districts like Wanheimerort or the neighbouring Hochfeld are now branded migrant “no-go areas”. Thus, there is continuity in the story of spatial-institutional racism. The work of Initiative Duisburg 1984 represents a counter-narrative to structural racism in society, the judiciary, security apparatus and politics. We write of racism and anti-racism, while the authorities report apolitical individual perpetrators, talking past the traumatic reality and experiences of racism of those affected. In our counter-narrative, racist violence is placed within the context of structural racism and within the history of migration. After decades of denial of a possible racist motive, even those affected had almost erased the arson attack from their memories. This is part of the Satır family’s sustained experience of violence and victimisation. Aynur Satır Akça reports vividly how she, as a survivor, stopped telling the doctors, who she saw regularly due to the permanent injury to her back, about the arson attack. “At some point I stopped talking about it, because the whole city didn’t remember and no one believed me. How could I shout out against the whole city, my back already hurt, it would just make the pain worse. At some point I understood that my soul hurt.” The dark period of racist violence in the 1970s and 1980s still looms large. But anti-racist knowledge from the migrant context, which is even marginalised in educational institutions, has equipped us with the necessary questions to guide our research. In line with the decolonial constitutional theorist Boaventura de Sousa Santos, we stress that the amnesia around racism in institutions is to be found again and perpetuated as the “geopolitics of knowledge” in historical traditions, theories, strategies and categories, as well as in historiography (de Sousa Santos, 2005: 201). As scientific discourses only change slowly, the rewriting of the history of racist violence must therefore be developed together with those affected, outside academia, as a participatory, political research project. That is why the space for recounting these histories is a place of Route 3 The history of racist violence, (…) 111 “another history”, in which we collectively carry out historical field research. In order to tell the story of the continuity of racist violence, not only do we need critical research on right-wing extremism, but also an analysis of structural and institutional racism and its connection with the history of migration. The work of Initiative Duisburg 1984 will also make it clear that all of those who endorse the deprivation of the rights of migrants or think that migration is the mother of all problems are part of racist violence. Remembering means struggling – and in the Duisburg case that meant a collective struggle, in order to even be capable of remembering. 1 Fakir Baykurt, a prominent local author, lived in Duisburg from 1979 and wrote several socio-critical books about the life of migrant workers in Duisburg. 2 Die Angehörigen (The Relatives) is a book and photo project by İbrahim Arslan and Jasper Kettner, which is dedicated to the relatives of the victims of right-wing and racist violence as well as their rarely heard stories. 3 This [literally “guest workers”] is what workers who came to West Germany in the course of the state regulated recruitment programme, which began in 1955, were called from 1963/1964. Until the end of the 1950s administrative bodies, politicians and the media still called migrant workers “Fremdarbeiter” [“alien workers”], this usage for migrant labour being in continuity with national-socialism and the Weimar Republic. Newspaper articles in the late 1950s and early 1960s still bore headlines such as: “Erhard gets Fremdarbeiter” (Herbert 2005). At the end of the 1970s the terminology changed again: this time from “ausländische Arbeitskräfte” [“foreign workforce”] to “ausländische Arbeiter” [“foreign workers”] and finally in the 1990s to “ausländische Mitbürger” [“foreign fellow citizens”]. 4 Ten days after the right-wing arson attack on refugee accommodation in Hünxe in 1991, there was another arson attack with Molotov cocktails on an asylum seekers’ home in Duisburg. We have found nothing pertaining to an explanation of the attack to this day. Two children suffered serious burns in Hünxe. Hünxe is almost 30 kilometres away from Duisburg. See Initiative Duisburg 1984’s private collection Commoning-History-Archiv, https://www. facebook.com/IniDu1984/photos/2387875208109852. 5 See private collection Commoning-History-Archiv, unknown date, title of the newsflash: “Woman confesses to arson”. 6 Here we follow the interpretation of the British sociologists and racism researchers Les Back and Maggie Tate, who see Du Bois’ preoccupation with the death of his son as a confrontation with racism. For them: “‘On the passing of the First Born’ reflects on the funeral of his son. In this passage we not only see the ‘sociological big picture’ but also the searing criticism of the hatred of the pale-faced onlookers who view the death Route 3 Bengü Kocatürk-Schuster, Ceren Türkmen of a black infant less deathly while their racism makes the mourners less than human. […] The passage communicates the raw violence of racism and the living death of black folk as more than a ledger of dispassionately compiled statistics” (Back/Tate 2015). 7 Colloquially, the law was called the “get lost reward” (Spiegel 1983), because it was adopted within the context of the anti-migration discourse being led by the middle-class/conservative middle, nationalists and neoNazi groups at the time. The lightning-fast political process was an urgent undertaking of the new CDU/CSU-FDP coalition under Helmut Kohl in 1983. In the Ruhr region at the time, a number of local citizen initiatives were founded who called for the return of migrants because of the “danger of foreign infiltration” (see Türkmen, 2021). The isolationist policies of the 1980s under the new Chancellor Kohl were intended to cajole unemployed migrants into returning with the promise of rewards. References Les Back/Maggie Tate, "For a sociological Reconstruction: WEB Du Bois, Stuart Hall and Segregated Sociology", in: Sociological Research Online, 2015, https://doi.org/10.5153/sro.3773 (26.04.2021). Fakir Baykurt, Gece Vardiyası. Istanbul 1982. Boaventura de Sousa Santos, "Vom Postmodernen zum Postkolonialen. Und über beides hinaus", in: Heike Brunkhorst/Sergió Costa (eds.), Jenseits von Zentrum und Peripherie, München/Mering 2005, pp. 197-219. W.E.B. Du Bois, The Souls of Black Folk, New York 1903. Ulrich Herbert, "Wer sprach von Fremdarbeiter? Interview", in: Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, 153, 05.07.2005, p. 31. James-H. Jackson, Migration and Urbanization in the Ruhr Valley: 1821-1914, Boston/Leiden/Cologne 1997. Jasper Kettner/Ibrahim Arslan (eds.), Die Angehörigen, Berlin 2019. No author, "Nimm Deine Prämie und hau ab", in: Der Spiegel, 21.08.1983, https://www.spiegel.de/politik/nimm-deine-praemie-und-hau-ab-a-01490c440002-0001-0000-000014021231?context=issue (26/.04.2021). No author, "Unser Traum", in: Der Spiegel, 15.10.1984, https://www.spiegel.de/politik/unser-traum-a-ac7a4a3f-0002-0001-0000000013511969 (26.04.2021). Sabine Rosenbladt, "Untitled", in: Konkret, 10/1984. Ceren Türkmen, "Migration und Rassismus in der Bonner Republik. Der Brandanschlag in Duisburg 1984", in: Lydia Lierke/Massimo Perinelli (eds.), Erinnern stören. Der Mauerfall aus migrantischer und jüdischer Perspektive, Berlin 2020, pp. 99-133. Route 3 112 The history of racist violence, (…) 113 Vanessa Vu, "Warum hat Deutschland Đỗ Anh Lân vergessen", in: Die Zeit, 21.06.2018. Article in Milliyet from 31/8/1984 in Initiative Duisburg 1984’s private collection Commoning-History-Archiv. Reader’s letter in the Westdeutschen Allgemeinen Zeitung from 29/08/1984 in Initiative Duisburg 1984’s private collection Commoning-History Archiv. Route 3 Fatih Kurçeren: Bir Zamanlar Ruhr Yasemin Çölgeçen und Aylin Kreckel 128 Hüseyin Çölgeçen: ▒▓░╟Çeviri, p. 264╣░▓▒ Yasemin Çölgeçen is an aspiring gender studies researcher and social scientist. Aylin Kreckel is a dramaturge and producer in NRW’s independent performance scene. Both work with a thematic focus on feminism, anti-racism, and the critique of capitalism and ideology. 1 Geographical term for the Middle East. to ტberhaus Route 1 from ტrtadoğu 1 en Photo: Çölgeçen family archive Yasemin Çölgeçen and Aylin Kreckel 130 “Four people had their heads leaning against the window of the newly furnished modern bookshop, looking wide-eyed in astonishment at the books.” This scene is observed by the protagonist in Hüseyin Çölgeçen’s story Bizi kurtar ya Şıh Hazin (Save Us, Sheik Hazin), which was published in a Turkish newspaper at the end of the 1960s. The four people mentioned are residents from surrounding villages. With the help of a translating companion (the villagers don’t speak Turkish), the protagonist enters into conversation with them. One of them reports on life in the village, which is characterised by a scarcity of resources, educational poverty, and poor healthcare provision and infrastructure. The story, in which a dialogue is initiated by a bookshop, tells us something about Hüseyin’s interest in education as an activating and empowering sociopolitical movement, as well as his aspirations for human understanding and unity with the working class. It also reveals something about his dream of a place in which this unity can begin and run its course. The bookshop – we understand it here simultaneously as both place and symbol – is the beginning, the ideal, the path, motivation, and end goal of a story about life and emigration. Hüseyin’s story is unique, shaped by many singular interests, conditions and decisions. His story is not paradigmatic for that of a Turkish work migrant, and yet it is full of experiences that he shared with his family, intellectuals, factory workers, teachers, Turks and Germans. The passage cited above gives a small insight into the work and creativity of our grandfather, Hüseyin Çölgeçen, who immigrated to Germany in 1971 and died in Oberhausen in 1995. The story is one of many fragments available to us, which leave us with both ideas and questions. Texts, stories and photos serve Route 1 Hüseyin Çölgeçen: from Ortadoğu to Oberhausen 131 as testimonies of his life, which lies before us like a frayed patchwork rug. Thousands of threads unravel out of the fragments, which we would like to weave into a coherent tapestry. We would like to try to pick up a couple of the threads in this text and follow their course, which ends in a Turkish bookshop and publishing house in Oberhausen. Hüseyin Çölgeçen, born on 15 December 1940 in Tavas,2 trained as an English teacher in Turkey. He taught at state schools in Siirt, Denizli and Kars. With his humanistic and leftist-liberal position, Hüseyin was involved in the intellectual and liberal circles of the 1960s, including a union founded by liberal teachers and left-wing literary circles. In his published texts and columns he was committed to a process of rethinking, especially where human rights, the rights of workers and the education of young people were concerned. One of the few sources from his time in Turkey, which illuminates his work for us today, is a report about a speech he gave in 1969 as chair of a teachers’ union in Denizli, in which he stood up for the rights of teachers despite the threat of state repression. This speech triggered such a furore that he was suspended from teaching. These events took place in the midst of a polarisation between the unions and the government forces, in which he also voiced his criticism. He was interested, for example, in the Village Institutes, which were established in Turkey in the 1940s as places of education and independence. These were training institutions for teachers who were posted in rural areas of Turkey, in order to advance widespread education there. Among other subjects, artistic and agricultural crafts were taught in the Village Institutes (Oran 2001: 36ff.). The teachers who trained there Route 1 Yasemin Çölgeçen and Aylin Kreckel 132 were supposed to stand up for the rights of the villagers with empathy and convey values such as gender equality alongside their knowledge (Ricken 2007: 405). In liberal circles, to which Hüseyin belonged, there was a lot of interest in this form of educational institution as an empowerment of the rural population through education. Even though the Village Institutes were ultimately closed for good by 1954 (notorious sites for the dissemination of subversive communist ideas) – before Hüseyin began his activism – the idea of the Village Institutes held a sustained fascination for him. He later published a basic reference work about the Village Institutes, which had been so politically polarising in Turkey at that time. He carried out his military service as a reserve officer in Kars from 1969 and subsequently resumed work as a teacher. Even though Hüseyin’s interim work ban was repealed, the prevailing political situation in Turkey presented major hurdles for the realisation of his ideals. After receiving a lucrative offer to work as a translator in a paper factory in Dalaman, Hüseyin resigned from his job as a teacher. Through his contact with the German factory workers, he began to learn German. Hüseyin shared his vision of Germany as a democratic and liberal state with his wife, companion, and supporter Münevver Çölgeçen: “When you said Europe, you meant modernity, the good things” (Çölgeçen 2020). So Münevver’s wish to go to Germany so that their two daughters Günfer and Nilüfer could receive a better education was also pivotal to this momentous decision. The perceived lack of political perspective in Turkey and the hope of a better life and better educational opportunities lead to their emigration. Route 1 Hüseyin Çölgeçen: from Ortadoğu to Oberhausen 133 In 1971 the family of four emigrated to Germany with all their knowledge and cultural influences. Initially, the couple worked in a textiles factory in Stammbach – Münevver as a seamstress and Hüseyin as a coordinator. Alongside his official posts, Hüseyin supported the factory workers on a voluntary basis as a translator and intermediary. After receiving a work permit to teach, the family finally moved to Oberhausen in 1972. The beginning of our family’s migration story was fed by personal desires and existential needs, but also political ideals, which were closely linked with the discourse around educational policies. Hüseyin differed from many Gastarbeiter in this, as he came to Germany as an intellectual, not a factory worker. He was in a minority within the Turkish migration movement. As hoped, his opportunities changed with emigration. Through the new political circumstances in Germany and his network of supporters, enthusiasts, friends and family, he was able to realise his desire of opening and running a bookshop. Arising from his criticism of conservative ideologies, as well as regressive state institutions and educational systems, he established a bookshop with an associated publishing house and printing company in Oberhausen at the start of the 1980s under the name Ortadoğu. The bookshop developed into a place of meeting and interaction for all kinds of people, especially intellectuals and those interested in politics and culture. The shop was also a contact point and refuge for dissidents and writers from Turkey. One of the most well-known among them was Fakir Baykurt; Hüseyin published several of his books. Other publications by various authors included poetry, stories, novels, fairy tales, children’s books and school textbooks. Hüseyin’s range Route 1 Yasemin Çölgeçen and Aylin Kreckel 134 mainly comprised books he published and printed himself, or on which he had worked as editor. For him, Ortadoğu was a space in which he could link his intellectual work with practical, manual skills on the printing machines. Time and again he encouraged authors to write books. Some of them were bilingual; he hoped they would advance cultural interaction between Turks and Germans. He also organised regular bookstalls, where he personally discussed his books and thoughts with other people. Alongside his publishing work, he also resumed teaching in Oberhausen, through which he imparted knowledge, motivation and ideas to young people. Both his pupils and his colleagues from his publishing work remember how they learned from and with him. Many who knew him describe him as an attentive and wise person. We cannot unequivocally say who Hüseyin Çölgeçen was. As the other, he represents a secret that we are trying to decode. Through this work on our family story, a family memory emerges in which we participate. We would like to make this memory accessible to public discourse and translate it into a collective memory. For as we follow the lengths of material, frayed edges, and threads of his life, we happen upon junctions that do not only concern us as descendants. His network and his contacts, with whom he always sought communication, also carry on his ideas and ideals beyond his death in 1995. His life’s work left behind visible and invisible traces. Continuing to follow the course of the fabric, it becomes clear that his work was important for the migrant literary scene of his time and continues to have an effect to this day. If we combine Hüseyin’s work as a publisher, teacher, comrade – as a husband, father and grandfather – with our body of thought, we Route 1 Photo: Çölgeçen family archive Route 1 Yasemin Çölgeçen and Aylin Kreckel 136 can also see him today. This gradual research into his trials and legacies, as well as the stories of other people, gives us revealing insights into his life. We see it as our task to track down his footsteps, to trace them, to make them visible and audible … 1 Geographical term for the Middle East. 2 A city in the eponymous district of Denizli Province in south-west Turkey. 3 Interestingly, the foundation of these institutes is still celebrated in Turkey every year on 14 April, underlining their importance in terms of educating a Kemalist-oriented intellectual elite. References Sara Oran, Das Bild der Frau in der türkischen Dorfliteratur, Vienna 2001. Norbert Ricken, Über die Verachtung der Pädagogik. Analysen – Materialien – Perspektiven, Wiesbaden 2007. Münevver Çölgeçen, personal interview, 23.12.2020. Route 1 Photo: Çölgeçen family archive In conversation: Adem Köstereli, Wanja van Suntum 138 Inverting the invisible ADEM KÖSTERELI AND WANJA VAN SUNTUM/ RUHRORTER ON FLIGHT AND MIGRATION IN EVERYDAY LIFE IN THE RUHR REGION AND THE CREATIVE (IM)POSSIBILITIES OF THEATRE Adem Köstereli was born in Mülheim an der Ruhr in 1986 and grew up in Mülheim-Styrum. He began working in theatre as a young man at the Junges Theater an der Ruhr. Having studied economics, he now lives in Oberhausen and occupies a corporate managerial position with Europe-wide responsibility. He founded RUHRORTER with some friends in 2012 and since then has worked tirelessly for the group as a director and production manager, alongside his professional career. Wanja van Suntum was born in Duisburg in 1986 and grew up in Oberhausen-Lirich. He went to school with Adem Köstereli and they also began their theatre career together. He studied cultural studies in Hildesheim, where he worked as a freelance artist and a research assistant. He is a regular collaborator with RUHRORTER in many different roles. Route 2 Inverting the invisible 139 Johanna-Yasirra Kluhs (JYK): You both come from the Ruhr region and your theatre group is called RUHRORTER. What led to its foundation? Adem Köstereli (AK): We were, to a great extent, socialised by the philosophy of Theater an der Ruhr. As young men we watched theatre and dance there, from Kazakhstan, Iraq, Tunisia, Iran, Cameroon, Turkey, Morocco, Lithuania and Poland, and became very involved in it. The reason I do theatre and remain linked to Theater an der Ruhr definitely has something to do with my personal biography. But I don’t want to talk about that here. A long time before RUHRORTER, in the mid-2000s, I did my first theatre project in a youth centre with refugee children, specifically from Tamil families as well as a few from the Congo. If you took the tram towards the centre of Mülheim around the year 2000, there was container accommodation at the penultimate stop. And yet the theme of “migration and flight” was somehow invisible. That still troubles me. Before that, in our primary school days, we met many refugees from the Yugoslav Wars. I can remember fellow pupils who joined us, stayed a while and then were suddenly gone again. Why, where and so on – that was never talked about. That left a void that I carried around with me for a long time: how could these people be, or be made, so invisible? What only became visible in the German media in 2015 had already been omnipresent in Europe for years. We only have to think of the tragic and terrible catastrophes on Lampedusa, what happened recently with Mória and so on. These experiences, paired with the possibilities demonstrated by Theater an der Ruhr, ultimately led to the idea of starting a theatre project with refugees. Wanja von Suntum (WVS): I think anyone who went to school I think anyone who in the Ruhr region has had direct went to school in contact with stories and biogthe Ruhr region raphies of flight. Certainly with has had direct contact migration stories, but also with political persecution, displacement, with stories and We were confronted with it biographies of flight. war. as six-year-olds, our fellow pupils were affected by it in some way, but we were, in our case, left alone with it. This non-disclosure is also very formative. There were pupils who lived in these containers or in the accommodation centres – perhaps also in camps. Then Adem suggested initiating something in 2012. I thought the idea made total sense. We are not political activists, we are theatre people. We can offer a theatre space. It just clicked for me. Because there is a history of flight and disRoute 2 In conversation: Adem Köstereli, Wanja van Suntum 140 placement that is barely talked about here, but it is present in very many people and their biographies. JYK: How does that become theatre? AK: To start with we grappled intensively, part-time, with different themes, read a lot, got to know local and regional networks and institutions that help, organise and advise. We told you that we wanted to establish a long-term space that people with experiences of flight could use in order to act or get involved behind the scenes. But the most important work we did back then was the time we spent in the accommodation. That has become less over the years due to a lack of time, which we ourselves aren’t happy about. In Oberhausen there was asylum accommodation on Weierstraße, for example, where people had lived since the beginning of the 1990s, including many Roma families who struggled to get out. The city closed the accommodation a couple of years ago because the whole situation was inhumane. Right next to it there was, or still is, I don’t know, an Alsatian dog club. At the time we developed offerings for the residents, especially for the children. We proceeded in a similar fashion in other cities. Sometimes there were 20 young people on the stage wanting to act. People from Bosnia, Serbia, Afghanistan, Iran, Iraq, Nigeria and Egypt. Somehow we understood each other, translated each other and for each other, agreed on things as well as we could – sometimes better, sometimes worse. After weeks of open workshops, we ended up with a fixed group of people on the rehearsal stage of the Jungen Theater an der Ruhr. We really insist on making art and not exhibitory, documentary theatre. That has something to do with an experience at the first rehearsals in 2012. S. improvised something. In a scene in which nothing happened for a long time he suddenly took off his jacket, laid it carefully on the ground, and began to treat this jacket – in my perception – like a lifeless body. I went to talk to S. after the rehearsal because I was worried about the memories this scene must have evoked. S. very quickly pointed out that he was, by no means, reacting personally. He was working out an artistic method on the stage. So while S. was developing a theatrical approach that enabled him to talk to us as a subject and to emancipate himself a fraction from his biography of flight, I had projected a “victim story” onto RUHRORTER has realised theatre and installation pieces with refugees, complemented by anthropological research and children’s theatre workshops, since 2012. In cooperation with Theater an der Ruhr, the group works continuously as a visible corrective measure against the institutional and social stigmatisation and categorisation of refugees. Interkultur Ruhr has repeatedly supported the work of RUHRORTER with cooperations and funding since 2016. Route 2 Inverting the invisible 141 him. I was very ashamed. But this moment made a huge impact on me. Looking back, I think this situation contributed significantly to the fact that we focus on an art form that expresses itself as an alternative to the documentary exhibition of refugees in theatre. JYK: You very strongly reject autobiographical theatre. Adem, you also said: “There is a very personal story as to why I do theatre, but I don’t want to tell it here.” This attitude is also reflected in RUHRORTER: if you don’t want to talk about your story, you don’t have to talk about your story, as something else can speak in the space. What does text mean in your work, what do bodies mean in your work? AK: We have met around 150 people through the workshops and projects over the last few years. I have never experienced anyone speak voluntarily about their private stories (of flight) or even want to explicitly broach them on stage. But I have the feeling this is exactly what theatre projects with refugees in German-speaking countries are about: suffering and marginalisation, duplication. People with a migratory background are only allowed to perform as “refugees”. Of course, something from the ensemble’s personal stories may also come up, but then we work intensively through a process to decouple these from individual biographies so that no identification is possible. I have never We go through a long rehearsal phase of around six months. At experienced anyone speak voluntarily about first we work a lot on stage and on the capacity to concentrate. their private stories A movement from A to B, or a (of flight) or even want glance from person A to B can be just as important as a spoken to explicitly broach word. Because we often work in them on stage. places far removed from the theatre, we also search collectively for inspiration from the space, but also from the music and especially from the bodies that encounter one another. And only then do we develop multilingual texts. These are compiled, sought out, suggested and discussed. But here too: at least as important as the words spoken are the moments before the speaking, before the microphone – the breathing, the collective listening and so on. WVS: It is not about protecting people. It is more an attempt to ask what there could be instead of these (auto)biographical works. We offer a space and look, collectively, at what happens within it. At first it is about finding a way of dealing with each other on the stage, a way of dealing with being looked at. That isn’t at all self-evident. Even if you studied it or have been involved in it for years, this is still the challenge. And to find a presence there. As Adem always says, that is the productive part in negaRoute 2 In conversation: Adem Köstereli, Wanja van Suntum 142 tion. That is also what makes RUHRORTER a good idea, I think. AK: There’s something else I’d like to say about these thoughts around protection. I remember moments in rehearsals where we were helpless, despite our caution. We took these as opportunities to professionalise ourselves. An extreme example is an incident in which a person was triggered by a broken, flickering stage light. We broke off the rehearsal and sought psychological assistance. Networking is also important in this. My point is, this is about people with experiences of flight, who are with us to do theatre, not about coercing nor supposedly wanting to carefully nudge them towards presenting private and personal details from what are perhaps traumatic experiences of flight, in order to exploit these for a play. Of course, not everyone is traumatised, that’s not what I mean. But we, who are speaking here and are lucky enough not to be affected by flight and displacement, should not insist on the affectedness of others or even build it up into a drama. I see that as critical and potentially even dangerous. Everyone should decide for themselves when something is told, or if it is even told at all. JYK: It’s a challenge to establish a situation of mutual care, where it is nevertheless clear that some people can, in certain respects, offer more at that moment than others. Wanja, you said, “We are theatre people, not activists,” and at the same time you made it clear that these are questions of our stance, that we move in a sociopolitical panorama. There is a very real political layer to your work. Not least in your installations, most of which are based on interviews. WVS: I find it important that there is a separation between art and politics. There are of course many intersections, but I don’t want to blur that line. What we noticed at the end of 2013 is that even if you don’t touch on all the stories in a play, they don’t disappear. They are still there. The spaces through which we move every day often have half-buried stories in them, in many cases closely linked to global, European historical flight. For example, the Theater an der Ruhr rehearsal building on Ruhrorter Straße is the former headquarters of a Jewish company, Schätzlein, whose history after 1933 is difficult to retrace. We want to thematise this kind of context. But we do not want to do that explicitly on the stage and authenticate history with the body. We just started doing interviews in 2014. We kept on digging. Administration is certainly an issue, and there are of course many others in Mülheim who excel in their commitment to the issue of flight. The Evangelische Flüchtlingshilfe (Protestant Refugee Aid) is one example. The Refugee Council. But there are also other people, like a translator in Mülheim-Styrum, who has translated for Tamil people in Mülheim for almost 40 years, as well as in international conferences and court proceedings in Route 2 Inverting the invisible 143 the course of the genocidal civil wars in Sri Lanka/Tamil Eelam. This gets very little attention – we try to transport these stories into urban spaces. We now have an archive of around 120 hours of interviews. It involves lots of work and is another extension of the theatre project. In the past it was called history from below, this often ignored history in which the Ruhr region is also a very important place, but more in terms of German-Polish-European workers. But the I find it important that story is of course more complex than we, or I at least as a white there is a separation German, are aware of on a daybetween art and to-day basis. politics. JYK: What do you think about There are of course the term “intercultural”? It is often criticised for obscuring things that many intersections, actually have to be kept apart, by but I don’t want to blur supposedly stating “this is one that line. term for everything”. WVS: What Adem mentioned about Theater an der Ruhr may be seen as model intercultural projects: a German theatre invites a Turkish theatre, they perform here, and then the German theatre performs in Istanbul. By the way, what is also remarkable is that Theater an der Ruhr was the first German theatre that performed in Turkey in the 1980s. Then again, the problem is: what is German theatre? If you have an Italian artistic director with Yugoslavian, Kurdish, and Bavarian actors, that doesn’t really tally. At the same time this term is quite powerful politically. We have clearly profited from that, as have you. I think that the term “intercultural” simply helped, in that it made something communicable and fundable to institutions such as RVR (Ruhr Regional Association) or the Ministry of Education and the Arts. Even if the reality it refers to is much more complicated than the term suggests. JYK: So you’re talking about the conceptualisation of interculturalism as a strategy of political struggle in order to unlock resources for art that were historically attributed more to social work. A manoeuvre out of critical migration research into practical cultural discourse. That only worked with moderate success for you in 2020. AK: That’s true. We are still stuck in an annual funding framework. We are not structurally funded, so we have to write a myriad of applications every year in order to even reach a minimum sum. The project is officially laid out for a four-month period, but we stretch it to last six months. And you have to continue to work for the other six months of the year of course, because, in the context in which we operate, also from our personal stance, you cannot just stop. I don’t mean the operational planning Route 2 In conversation: Adem Köstereli, Wanja van Suntum 144 of the next projects, but more the contacts with the networks, for example. Because they have the expertise that we don’t have, when refugees who come to us have specific questions about ongoing asylum procedures, school, registrations, grants, work and so on. So we are de facto busy for twelve months. The first two years we worked without funding, but since 2014 we have received continual project funding from NRW’s programme Art in Intercultural Dialogue, up to and including 2019. The rejection in 2020 was of course a shock. Why aren’t we worWhat is German thy of funding anymore? We tried in theatre? vain to find out. One hypothesis is If you have an Italian that the classic intercultural funding artistic director with institutions say, “No, you are an art project,” and when we go to the Yugoslavian, theatre support funds, they say, “No, Kurdish, and that is clearly a sociocultural project, Bavarian actors. perhaps even social work.” Apparently, we don’t fit in anywhere. Anyway, we were desperate to continue the children’s theatre project, even under pandemic conditions and without funding, which we did in 2020. Some of the accommodation is now closed down – and its closure is, of course, accompanied by the winding down of offers. Our goal is for RUHRORTER, in the long run, to be taken over by the people who came to us. But that requires structural funding and enough money. We’d actually have to pay at least ten people for the year. But no one would finance that as a project, because it would be much too expensive for funding partners and contradicts the logic of institutional projects. But it would be the right approach. I therefore think it is important to build up reliable regional and national networks, in order to have dialogue on aesthetics and funding institutions and work together for change on various levels. WVS: The field in which we operate is of course a complex one, between local politics, international politics, and also simple social inequality, which is to be found, pursued, and updated at our rehearsals. Academia is helpful in this regard, because it makes terms and concepts to deal with this available, which we can use on ourselves and learn from or not as the case may be. For example, in discrimination-sensitive educational work. We were able, for example, to take part in a reflective workshop on discrimination by Professor Carmen Mörsch at Bochum ZAK. That was definitively very important for me. But this form of academic exchange is only one way we can develop further as theatre makers. AK: Jonas Tinius wrote his thesis on Theater an der Ruhr. We met and he found the project interesting and really wanted to dedicate a large part Route 2 Inverting the invisible 145 of his work to the rehearsals and our approach. What moved us forward a lot was the collective reflection on social, but also political and aesthetic dimensions of the whole production process. And the question of how we can present what we are trying to do, and how it can be brought into broader social discourses or contexts. That also led to new formats and collaborations. We have also developed ourselves methodically through this. That was our practical experience with the area of research: the support of the context. JYK: Comparing 2015/16 and 2020: where do you see that things have changed, where have they stayed the same, where do you have the impression that things have regressed? AK: I actually feel like 2019/2020 is a bit like 2012. That, polemically speaking, it doesn’t matter to anyone anymore, or only to a few people. Although the themes that concern people with experiences of flight have changed today, they are still very similar and often unresolved: it is no longer about finding their first flat, but more about bringing the family together and the precarious work situation. Or about language – the minimum German-language requirements have been tightened again for many jobs. Not much has changed in theatres and acting schools anyway. I even got the impression that these themes were cut off very quickly at the start of the current pandemic crisis. To say nothing of specific special funds and promotion funds. WVS: Speaking from the cultural-political theatre world, it is, I think, an issue that is losing relevance for decision-makers. It is now about Syrian people, for example, not only participating in projects, but also running them – even if no one would say so openly, perhaps not even think it. In our case this was not funded. I would describe that as a cultural-political trend. I also think we will have much more to do with the AfD in the future, in terms of cultural politics. And all the right-wing movements that the AfD stands for. Theatre and culture departments don’t have much perseverance or desire to deal with the AfD in city councils anymore. They are just tired. Which I also understand. Because the AfD’s aim is precisely that: to disrupt the political system, which is on very thin ice at the commune level, especially in the Ruhr region. JYK: Those are not good prospects for Pangaea. You speak of the AfD, and I also think of COVID-19 and what lies within it in terms of discursive potential. This idea of everyone having to protect themselves from each other, closing the borders – we have experienced that more this year. You know that we would like to see the Ruhr region as Pangaea, as that merged continent that won’t physically exist for another 200 million years. Is that a realistic prospect for the Ruhr region, or is it a potential that will never be realised? Route 2 In conversation: Adem Köstereli, Wanja van Suntum 146 WVS: It’s both, right? On one hand you have a totally reactionary formation in society, where the AfD is of course only the party-political arm, but on the other hand you also have districts like Mülheim-Styrum or Eppinghofen, or Hochfeld, Marxloh, and Hamborn here in Duisburg. There are situations here that can no longer be described as only multicultural. I think this idea of hyperculturality comes from Holland. We looked at a nursery school where there are 100 children from 37 different home countries. And that doesn’t really make it into public discourse, apart from as resentment, when, for example, Höcke said: “We cannot allow Erfurt to become Duisburg.” I would therefore say that what you are trying to describe with this continent is already the case in some respects. The question is only about how much recognition this gets and how much appreciation. The spectres of being German and the dominant culture are still powerful. We can only be one of many actors, and work against ideas of cultural dominance or uniqueness. But this is exactly where we, as individuals, must also remain open. The spectres of Adem said that, but I think it still being German and needs organisations like you, who the dominant culture show that in other channels. What you tried to do with Interkultur Ruhr: are still powerful. all the different forms of We can only be one charting culture, from everyday praxis, art, of many actors, and sport, culinary praxis or whatever. work against ideas of To not depict them in an essentialist cultural dominance or way, but as forms of praxis. Perhaps that could also be a perspecuniqueness. tive for the next management team: to not act so outwardly, but much more inwardly. To work much more on the RVR and see that as the actual project. To implement perspectives that are anti-racist or that challenge power structures. JYK: Absolutely. I think we have always understood ourselves as a kind of realistic task force. Route 2 Kanakisierung der Kultur 148 Integriert euch nicht! (Do not integrate!), Tunay Önder, 2020 149 Ka Th na e ki sa tio n Tunay Önder e r tu l ‫ט‬ C f o Engaged cultural work in a postcolonial migration society Tunay Önder writes, publishes, performs, curates and advises those affected by asylum and migration policy. She realises curatorial concepts relating to postcolonial migration societies for various city and state theatres as well as the independent scene. In 2010 she began the blog migrantenstadl with Imad Mustafa. Launched as a blog project for post-migrant perspectives and stories migrantenstadl functions as a platform and archive for the development of performance, installation, publishing and curatorial projects, which Imad Mustafa and Tunay Önder create in collaboration with allies. Route 3 Tunay Önder 150 I am a typical migrant child, with migration in my foreground and migration in my background, I am also, gratuitously, a Gastarbeiter child, I like Marx and mama as well as sun and Dada, my migration biography is a mania, I follow it and it follows me, it is part of my identity and my life, migration provokes and flows like water, it influences the world and moves the masses, how could it leave me unmoved? When people with political decision-making power publicly express that the mother of all problems is migration – as none other than the minister of the interior Horst Seehofer did in 2018 – then the fact that migration is the spectre of the present is revealed in full clarity. It is persecuted, marked, controlled, administered and disciplined. This hounding finds its most raw expression at the external territorial borders of the EU or Europe, while inside the country it appears in the garb of laws and rules, as the completely normal order of the world. Part of the population is struck by this racism at birth, when they are assigned the status of foreigner while still lying in the crib, an appellation with a spiralling tail of consequences in later life: socioeconomic precariousness, systematic discrimination and a low standard of living. Access to the comfort zones of society, in which participation, economic security and recognition are givens, usually remains reserved for others, those who coincidentally did not grow up in the settlements for Gastarbeiter, asylum seekers or refugees of war. This not only affects those who fled or migrated themselves, but also the following generations of socalled new Germans. They are kept on a short leash with laws on integration, foreign nationals and asylum that were developed especially for them. And most citizens have long since become used to having to lay claim, again and again, to their residency, their work permit, their social security, their access to healthcare, to education, to citizenship, to their rights in general, to apply for them, to have them checked and, if necessary, to expect that they could be removed or cancelled at any time. Değerli Arkadaşlar, brothers and sisters, they tried to tell us that we have to learn German. That’s right, but we don’t want to! Route 3 The Kanakisation of Culture 151 They tried to tell us that we have to integrate. That’s right, but we don’t want to! For decades they have told us that we have to go home one day. Even if that is right, we don’t want to! And even then, everyone else has to too, as we are not the only damn guests on this damn planet! Growing up in a social setting with this perspective on migration is hard, but it is often also the starting point for artistic praxis. In 2019, the Museum Ludwig in Cologne also used this realisation as a chance to mount a solo exhibition called Exile Is a Hard Job, which gave an overview of Nil Yalter’s work. The living situation of marginalised women, of illiterate people and Gastarbeiter represents a central motif in the artistic work of Nil Yalter – an artist over eighty years old who was born in Cairo, grew up in Istanbul and has long been resident in Paris. Her work conveys not only an impression of what it means to live on the edge or outside of society, but is also an expression of complicity and testimony. With a view to our current migration society, the title could be supplemented thus: “It is a hard job to live and survive in a society that systematically turns you into the other, into migratory others (see Mecheril 2010), and marks, devalues, declassifies, forces to the margins, excludes or even kills you as a foreign body based on appearance, speech, origin or religious practice.” All the things I am, I am so much! Foreigner, Kanakin, migrant, person with a migratory background, migrant child, Gastarbeiter child, German-Turkish, Turkish, Circassian, background in Turkey, Turkish background, uprooted, Muslim, German Muslim, Euro-Muslim, an alien or an alien bride, a contextual figure, two-homed, multi-homed, binational, trinational, multinational, multi-, inter-, transcultural, a different German, a new German, a very new German, a recently passported German, educational native, bearer of a hybrid identity. Is there somewhere I can apply with these credentials? Route 3 Tunay Önder 152 When an invitation from the Favoriten festival for independent theatre in North Rhine-Westphalia led me to Dortmund in the Ruhr region in 2020, I asked myself what engaged cultural work on the ground here might look like. Up to that point I only knew the city by name. And for some years I had associated this name with another: Mehmet Kubaşık. A man who, like many others in his generation, was a transnational pioneer, who enriched and shaped the West German metropoles through his life and work. Arriving in Dortmund Nordstadt, I found it remarkable that I could take a rest in a public square named after him. As of yet, this form of remembrance does not exist in my hometown of Munich for his comrades in destiny, Theodoros Boulgarides and Habil Kılıç. Coming from Munich, I was very impressed by Dortmund Nordstadt anyway: an unparalleled urban neighbourhood shaped by migration. It is no coincidence that the National Socialist Underground rampaged through this district. As one of the most populous neighborhoods in Dortmund, Nordstadt can be seen as a symbol for something that is described in critical migration research as the autonomy of migration: the existence of a variety of migrant ways of life, practices and tactics, which are spawned despite massive structural marginalisation and establish themselves despite restrictive migration policy. If you rest, you rust! Strength lies in movement! The point of the matter is in fact a bouncing ball that does not stop, not anywhere! The central theme of humanity is migration! We need caravans instead of villas or villas on wheels! We never arrive, not anywhere! Only those who migrate exist! Those who don’t migrate do not! The following manifesto must therefore permeate our brains, our discourse, our lecture halls and assembly rooms: • Migration, with various motivations, is a part of our basic human needs and must be recognised as a general human right. • Integration courses for everyone or no one. Route 3 The Kanakisation of Culture 153 • Comprehensive conversion to a bidet -integrated model in all public toilets – a minimum requirement. Water beakers and toilet paper to be offered equally. • Unrestricted freedom in the mounting of satellite dishes on house fronts. • Free headscarves for all. • Only circumcised dicks in German pornos from now on. This reality was ultimately the starting point and simultaneously the motivation for the development of a series of events that, following the invitation from the Favoriten festival, I was able to realise in Dietrich-Keuning-Haus in Dortmund Nordstadt and bore the title Maşallah Dortmund. “Maşallah” (pronounced: mā shāʾa-llāh) is a widely used term, not only in Arabic, but in many other linguistic regions of the world and thus also in Germany. It expresses a recognition, a commendation or a compliment. At the same time, but independently of the event, the term was accepted into the list of the top ten youth words of 2020 by the dictionary publisher Langenscheidt. The title was thus also a nod of recognition to those city dwellers who are involved in constituting the plurality of society on the ground every day and sometimes have to pay with their lives. It was precisely these perspectives, positions and practices that were the focus of the four-day series of events involving Town Hall Talks, film screenings, scenic readings, political shows and musical contributions. Alongside the film series Sinema, which presented video pieces that made the resistant voices of people who experience racism, especially women of colour, visible and audible, the evening programme Late-Night-Rage comprised readings and political cabaret shows by artists, performers and collectives who conceive their formats from a firmly anti-racist and decolonial perspective.1 A central component of the series of events were the Town Hall Talks. Here a variety of transnational players from the Ruhr and beyond, who promote and embody pluralisation and the struggle for equality in very different ways, engaged in conversation. In this setting, the possibility of alliances with the struggles of migrants/“migrantised” people revealed unexpected resistance from some Black-positioned women*. Experience with Route 3 The Act of Drinking Tea, Tunay Önder, 2020 Deutschstunde (German lesson), Tunay Önder, 2020 Tunay Önder 156 the colonial-racist “Kanake” figure, which still functions as code for the “inferior” migratory other to this day, as well as the empowering appropriation and inversion strategy of those affected, seemed for some Black-positioned artists incompatible with their own experiences of colonial-racist ascription and the corresponding re-evaluation and upgrading strategies of Blackness.2 For some present it seemed almost strange to identify shared experiences, which could connect Black Germans and migrants or migrantised people. In such moments it may be helpful to imagine the labour migration policies in the German context as an inversion of colonial forms of expansion, which ultimately follow the same logic, namely to strengthen one’s own position in the global competition through external and internal colonisation (see Ha 2003). With this knowledge, it should no longer be difficult to recognise colonial patterns in the way Gastarbeiter or refugees are handled – they function as a cheap reserve army and are thus permanently held in a societal underclass with impeded or almost impossible access to citizenship rights. In a phase in which the processing of Nazi crimes is slowly but surely being expanded to include a processing of the colonial past, it is about time to process the patterns of colonialism in integration and labour migration policies and to embed the connections to present-day racism in the collective consciousness. If these various contexts and stories of the experience of present-day racism in Germany were seen as connected and together, it might also be possible to form productive alliances, which could hardly be more necessary in the current sociopolitical situation. In this sense the Kanakisierung der Kultur (kanakisation of culture) is an anti-racist project in both thought and action, opposing oppression and understanding the integration imperative as one target among many. It is simultaneously an invitation to make the partially competing histories of racism, oppression and resistance part of German history, the German present and cultural memory from an intersectional perspective. We don’t want the folklore parties that are organised for us anymore. We don’t want to be guests or Gastarbeiter or quota exotics anymore in this migrantenstadl (migrant barn). Because this here, brothers and sisters, is our society, and we have a right to decide on the conditions of our society, and not only about whether we want to become a hairdresser or a dental Route 3 The Kanakisation of Culture 157 assistant after secondary school! Why, I ask you, why should we speak to each other in one single language? They tried to tell us that the majority in Germany speak German. What kind of nonsense is that?! And even if the majority speak German, which I doubt, yes, which is nonsense, then we must have the right to decide ourselves. I don’t want to only speak German, and I also don’t want my two parrots, Süleyman and Süleyha, to speak German if they don’t explicitly want to, and my two parrots don’t want to! When Imad Mustafa and I began our blog project migrantenstadl in 2011, our perspectives were shaped by our social situation as the second generation of Gastarbeiter. Without having migrated ourselves, we were affected by German parallel societies, integration or discourses on “home” at least as much as our parents’ generation. We felt how labour migration policies had solidified into a structure of social downgrading that was to be inherited by us following generations. That hinders not only the access to good and secure income, but also the access to crucially important places in society, in which knowledge, stories, memories, images and judgments are produced. Against this backdrop, the digital world offered us a very welcome space, in which we play free from border controls by conservative gatekeepers and in which we can introduce our view of societal conditions. Our blog project migrantenstadl thus came into being as a virtual playground for marginalised stories. In the past ten years, it has become a base on whose foundations we develop various performative, installation, publishing and curatorial formats. Currently theatres, theatre festivals, artistic and cultural institutions provide the spaces and resources necessary for an engaged cultural praxis, in which artistic work and emancipatory struggles can consolidate, strengthen each other and develop a transformative power. This is by no means only about the content or format, with which some cultural institutions believe they are doing their bit to bring about change. It is also about who holds the status of host, who invites, who decides and ultimately who does the relationship work that a dedicated artistic and cultural praxis requires. In order to produce extraordinary spaces that drive societal changes, a host role is required, which is radicalRoute 3 Tunay Önder 158 ly driven by a personal and political unity with fragile parts of society and a hospitality towards these communities. Curatorial activism arises from a societal situatedness that features relationships in different worlds, cultivates different languages and ways of speaking, and can bridge the gap between the narratives of a German-speaking dominant society and a not-always-German-speaking subordinate; the German subordinate does not only speak German, but a different German, a new German, it says “inşallah” and “maşallah”, and sometimes calls for kanakisation. Route 3 The Kanakisation of Culture 159 1 The whole programme is available at: https://dasmigrantenstadl.blogspot. com/2020/07/masallah-dortmund.html as well as: http://favoriten-festival. de/event/masallah-dortmund (accessed: 13/4/2021). 2 The term Kanake is related to the Polynesian word for “human”, kanaka, but underwent a racist reinterpretation during the colonial era. Starting in the 1970s, Kanake was used as a derogatory insult, especially towards Gastarbeiter from Turkey. In reaction to this, young, racialised people have reappropriated the term and reloaded it with positive connotations. The name of the anti-racist alliance “Kanak Attak” is evidence of this subversive act. See: https://www.kanak-attak.de/ka/about/manif_deu.html (accessed: 6/8/2021). References Natalie Bayer/Belinda Kazeem-Kamiński/Nora Sternfeld (eds.), Kuratieren als antirassistische Praxis, Vienna 2017. Paul Mecheril et al., Migrationspädagogik, Weinheim/Basle 2010. Imad Mustafa/Tunay Önder, Migrantenstadl, Münster 2016. Kien Nghi Ha, "Die kolonialen Muster deutscher Arbeitsmigrationspolitik", in: Encarnación Gutiérrez Rodríguez & Hito Steyerl (eds.), Spricht die Subalterne Deutsch? Postkoloniale Kritik und Migration, Münster 2003. Kien Nghi Ha, Postkoloniales Signifying – Der ›Kanake‹ als anti-rassistische Allegorie, https://heimatkunde.boell.de/de/2009/02/18/postkoloniales-signifying-der-kanake-als-anti-rassistische-allegorie (02.02.2021). Sybille Peters, "The Art of Being Many. Zur Entwicklung einer Kunst der Versammlung im Theater der Gegenwart", in Sybille Peters (ed.), Das Forschen aller. Artistic Research als Wissensproduktion zwischen Kunst, Wissenschaft und Gesellschaft, Bielefeld 2013. Maura Reilly, What is Curatorial Activism?, http://www.artnews. com/2017/11/07/what-is-curatorial-activism/ (01.12.2019). Route 3 Ina Holev, Miriam Yosef 160 Plea for a Jewish futurism Ina Holev is a freelance journalist, author and educational mediator. She studies media and cultural analysis (MA) in Düsseldorf with a focus on audiovisual media and questions of (Jewish) representation. Ina Holev is the co-editor of defrag zine für feministisch_utopische Gedankenexperimente. Miriam Yosef studied human rights with an emphasis on intersectional equity. She works as a freelance educational mediator, curator and author with a focus on power structures and empowerment. Miriam Yosef is a founding member of the Salon der Perspektiven and the Institut für Affirmative Sabotage. Route 3 Moon Mosaic Hamsa, analogue collage artwork made from salvaged and recycled materials, by Art Lush, 2020/5781, @_artlush_, artlushshop.com Lifǝ on plƋnet Gǝr many Life on planet Germany 161 We wrote this text about Jewish diasporic visions of the future in January 2021. We are in the middle of another wave of the Covid-19 pandemic, which not only brought with it a virus, but also Corona deniers and a plethora of antisemitic conspiracy theories. We are currently surveying 1,700 years of Jewish life in Germany – an examination of Jewish history and a present that must be coped with. Yet we also endeavour to look forwards – without instrumentalising things or making them sound better than they are. A journey through time, that looks into the future while not losing sight of the past and the present. We have to find a place, somewhere in between a dystopian, pessimistic vision of the future and the deceptive euphoria that evokes utopias incongruent with our living conditions. Inspired by Afrofuturism and other ethnofuturisms, which mostly describe positive alternative futures, we wish to attempt a thought experiment: This text is a plea for Jewish futurism. In this we always think of futurism in a plural sense: this is about our very personal Jewish futurism, as our hope is for every Jewish person to autonomously shape their future. In this experiment, we wish to collectively think about what Jewish futurism in Germany might look like for us. A futurism that can include all Jewish trends, positions and cultures, and which stands in solidarity with other diasporic groups. Like almost everywhere else in the world, most of Jewish history in Germany is defined by experiences of migration due to displacement and persecution. Our families migrated to Germany because they were in search of new futures. But how can we think about global and diverse Jewish histories in Germany and also leave space for Jewish histories that are, for example, migratory, Mizrahi, Black, Sephardic, Ashkenazic, post-Soviet, or all or parts of these? Parts that Route 3 Ina Holev, Miriam Yosef 162 are not tangible for German mainstream society and also do not pass as the Jewish or the migrant narrative, for these do not exist. We build up our narratives ourselves, because we do not fit into the predetermined pigeonholes. We do not want to have our visions of the future determined purely by antisemitic realities, but we cannot avoid them either. So what happens if we write our future ourselves, instead of being driven by given narratives? If we assume that the future is open as a speculative fiction, this also gives us agency. The experiment begins. Future experiment phase I: Planet Germany How can we, as Jews, write our histories ourselves? And think of a future here at all? Germany is sometimes a surreal planet for us, an ambivalent home, in which we are all too often seen as aliens, as foreigners. We are welcome, but mostly only in the narratives of a tolerant state that has long overcome its National Socialist past. We know Germany, but it is simultaneously a planet on which we must reorientate ourselves time and again. We are there, where our signals are suppressed, signals via which we communicate with our family histories. Planet Germany has bad Wi-Fi, and the connection to our histories is also weak here, as German mainstream culture all too often disrupts the reception with counter-signals. We are building a new technology, reviving lost rituals, and bringing them into our lived realities. Let’s write a new numeric code that hacks the German system, let’s rewrite the programme! We want to develop a virus Jüdisch & Intersektional – Initiative für kritische Bildungsarbeit was conceived by Ina Holev and Miriam Yosef. Its aim is to create visibility for Jews in feminist contexts and provide educational work to challenge antisemitism through workshops, lectures and counselling services. Route 3 Life on planet Germany 163 scanner, but they accuse us of bringing a virus. We build a firewall – they accuse us of closing ourselves off. We can’t even live out our resistance freely, it is unwanted. Kabbalah, that was a trend for you back then – but we have taken it back: the red string is not severed, even if we only wear it around our wrists as nothing more than a holiday souvenir from our intergalactic trips. Jewish people are often criticised for living too much in the past: for Germany we are time manipulators, because our mere presence disturbs the domain of time in Germany. Do we live in another temporality to (non-Jewish) Germans? A temporality in which past and future are not separate? In fact, our family histories do break up the consistencies of time, space and linear logic. We are, as Jews, inextricably linked with the stories of our ancestors. L’dor V’dor – from generation to generation – is an important Jewish principle that describes the responsibility to pass on Jewish knowledge and cultural traditions from generation to generation, in order to preserve our collective memory. So while past, present and future represent eternally coherent elements for us, white-Christian Germans talk themselves into believing in a linear logic of time and space, in which the past seems to be effortlessly and quite naturally separated from the present by clean breaks. German mainstream society moves between demands for a clean break and a self-centred culture of commemoration, which leaves no place for living Jews on this planet and overwrites their histories. To counter this, we will rewrite everything. But what should this re-write look like? Who writes with us, who writes against us, who destroys our writings and our drafts of the future? Who do we include if we think of our future, and who is lost between the lines? Some end up leaving what is for them the barren planet of Route 3 Ina Holev, Miriam Yosef 164 Germany and find themselves again elsewhere. Forty years travelling through space on a rocket, and some build a home for themselves on the journey. But we want to see what can be built on this planet. An old widespread antisemitic stereotype is rootlessness, a current one is the packed bags – clichéd images that seem to be picked up in every article on Jewish life in Germany. But what could such a Jewish future actually look like? Future experiment phase II: Breather Jewish history is also a glance into the future, a hope – not to be captured by the words of religion – for our own temporality. Being out of time – a feeling that many Jewish people share. We live in loops, and our perception is often delayed, after the event – but sometimes the world is suspended too, and we are ahead of everything, and sometimes we are in the same time as our fellow humans. It is easier for some of us to get into line with normative temporality. We must learn to predict the future and to make prognoses in order to secure ourselves a right to exist on planet Germany. Being Jewish in Germany means we must learn to think speculatively. This Jewish experience connects us with other marginalised groups in Germany, whose experiences we share but whose experiences are also different from ours. We have to develop a new communication system for ourselves. However, in order to even be able to dedicate ourselves to this task and draft alternative ideas of the future, we need a break to take a breath, something we and other marginalised groups on planet Germany are rarely allowed. Not having to explain ourselves. Not being used as a figure of conjecture or a metaphor. No justifications. We wish for a future that also allows us a breather. We don’t always have time. Route 3 Life on planet Germany 165 Future experiment phase III: Building a future Is Germany even an inhabitable planet for Jews? We have Jews here again, they say on planet Germany. We are on the cusp of a new heyday, they say. The Jewish community is once again fully integrated in Germany, they say. We must never stay silent, they say. Antisemitism is an assault on everyone, they say. A lot is said about us on planet Germany. We have listened and now we want to reply. Our very personal answer is Jewish futurism. For us, Jewish futurism is the antithesis of white-Christian-German narratives of a so-called “Christian-Jewish Occident”, which in reality never existed. How do we form solidarities that are real and have a future and in which discriminations are not played off against each other? In which attention is also paid to different experiences within communities of marginalised people? Our wish for the future is that this is dealt with – within and outside of a Jewish community, which does not exist as a fixed construct anyway. So, the initial question poses itself again: what Jewish future can there be in the land of perpetrators? We also live with diverse cultures of memory, which inscribe themselves in our biographies, among Jewish people. And opinions concerning this question are not only divergent among Jews. In a time when antisemitic offences are increasing while inhibitions around making antisemitic statements are falling, when an antisemitic party has seats in the Bundestag, neo-Nazi networks within the police force are regularly being uncovered, and the continuities of right-wing, racist and antisemitic terrorism are becoming ever more clear, it becomes increasingly hard for many Jews to imagine a future here without antisemitism. We also realise that our fantasy has almost reached its limits. Yet this experiment remains imRoute 3 Ina Holev, Miriam Yosef 166 portant and necessary. Antisemitism is always convertible, but our resistance and our resilience remain. Future experiment phase IV: Keep dreaming What does our Jewish utopia look like? Our look into the future also addresses Jewish communities: we see a solidary utopia with a lived praxis of the principle a Jew is a Jew is a Jew, in which the exclusion of Jewish people who are not Ashkenazi and/or matrilineal belongs to the past. In writing this text we very quickly realise that our thoughts – even though we undertake to imagine our future as a Jewish utopia – are shaped by fundamental and low-threshold demands of an inhabitable planet. We imagine a utopia where we can be less tired, less angry and less afraid. Tired of having to explain antisemitism all the time and in every possible context. Angry about recurring, predictable patterns and the lack of their revision. Afraid for our physical integrity und safety. In this vision of the future, we will no longer be seen as aliens by German mainstream society, no longer considered time manipulators. For in this future there is no talk of clean breaks. In this future, which perhaps already exists in a parallel universe, we will be taken seriously and live in safety – without depending on police protection, bulletproof doors or any other safety precautions. Route 3 Bridget Fonkeu Multilingualism: Ѥvidence ໐f sociolinguistic super-diversity in the Ruhr Ѵalley ▒▓░╟Übersetzung p.277╣░▓▒ Bridget Fonkeu was born in Cameroon. As in Germany her two degrees from Yaoundé University were not recognized, she decided to go back to university. In 2011, she obtained a master’s degree in English linguistics at Bochum University where she also worked as a teaching and research assistant. In 2019, she got her doctorate in English Sociolinguistics at Dortmund University. Presently, she is a teaching and research assistant at the University of Freiburg and the coordinator of the Silent University Ruhr. She speaks and understands five languages. The Silent University Ruhr (SUR) is an independent knowledge-sharing platform for immigrants. SUR believes that language should not prevent anyone from realising their abilities. Therefore, all SUR activities are translated into at least three world languages. One of the strategic units of the SUR is the language and translation unit that reflects the multilingualism, multiculturalism and diversity of the Ruhr area. Route 3 Multilingualism: Evidence of sociolinguistic super-diversity (…) 169 1. Introduction: Immigration and multilingualism The German sociolinguistic space asserts official monolingualism but we argue that present day large-scale migration and multimedia has made Germany, in reality, a multicultural and multilingual country. Therefore, this paper gives validity to the argument that there is an important relationship between language and immigration. Migration is the movement of people from one place to another for an extended period of time (Kerswill 2006:3). When people move, they take along with them their cultural baggage (Bird 2001), and since language is a vehicle for the transportation of culture, this means that the migration of people to new environments symbolizes a culmination of cultures and languages leading to multilingualism and multiculturalism. In immigrant ecologies, there is a dichotomy between sociocultural adherence and the need for socioeconomic advancement through integration with the host community. These dual objectives – sociolinguistic commitment to personal culture on the one hand, and an attempt to integrate into a new ecology via imbibing the new language and culture on the other hand – have produced individual idiosyncratic speech styles in both the host language and the immigrant languages. Kallmeyer and Keim (2003) and Backus et al. (2010) note that immigration has some effects on how Turkish youths speak their native tongue in Germany. These immigrant youths have adopted a wide range of language choices to suit their new environment. The juxtaposition of words and expressions in the Turkish and German languages spoken among these youths is one example. This tendency of ‘mixing’ or ‘Mischsprache’ has moved outside the Turkish youth community. It has spread to non-Turkish communities, confirming postulations that immigration affects both the immigrants and the host community (Backus et al. 2010:487). Blommaert (2010) and Canagarajah (2017) hold that the constant movement of people and languages across borders has resulted in the hybridity, fluidity and super-diversity that characterizes contemporary relations between individuals and communities in immigrant contexts. Community membership has become multiple due to mobility creating space for sociolinguistic super-diversity (Vertove 2007; Blommaert 2010; Canagarajah 2017). The link between migration and language has become very important due to the contemporary ‘neoliberal economy’ (Canagarajah, 2017:33). Based on economic capital, there has been an increase in mobile flows of workers across the globe. In this context, language becomes an essential tool for communication and socioeconomic upward mobility. Route 3 Bridget Fonkeu 170 The Ruhr area, which is home to many immigrants, has seen a few studies investigating the effects of the languages in contact with each other in this multilingual ecology. Fonkeu (2011) looks at the language use of multilingual Cameroonian immigrants of the Ruhr area and discovers that there is hybridity in using the different languages in the repertoire of these migrants. Bernhard et al. (2012) also investigate multilingualism in the Ruhr area and conclude that with a 150-year immigration history, the Ruhr area has experienced communal and religious multilingualism for quite a while. Meierkord, Fonkeu and Zumhasch (2015) document the African multilingual communities present in the Ruhr area and carry out preliminary research on their linguistic preferences. Ziegler et al. (2016) investigate the occurrence, regional distribution, functions and production of visual multilingualism in the Ruhr area via linguistic landscaping. In all of these, language is seen as a vehicle for the transmission of culture across borders and as a tool in the hands of the immigrants to manipulate and gain profitable relationships. There is, therefore, an urgent need to understand societal and individual multilingualism. This coexistence of many languages and cultures means that policymakers in education, administration, and even politicians themselves need to understand the complexities of such communities and people in order to know how to handle and deal with issues. This study hopes to make a contribution to the much-needed integration of immigrants into German society. This paper illustrates super-diversity in the multilingual Ruhr area in two forms: via an exposition of visual images of the Ruhr linguistic landscape, and via a presentation of speakers’ linguistic accommodation strategies such as code-mixing and admixtures. 2. Multilingualism and sociolinguistic super-diversity in the Ruhr Valley Within the context of the Ruhr area, located in the German state of North Rhein-Westphalia, we have the cities of Bochum, Dortmund, Duisburg, Essen, and Gelsenkirchen, as well as the peripheral and smaller cities of Bottrop, Hagen, Hamm, Herne, Mülheim an der Ruhr, and Oberhausen. This area has a history of thriving mining and iron- and steel-producing industries (Friedrichs 1996:135) which made this area an industrial and urbanized region. These cities attract immigrants from many different countries and continents, partly because earlier migrants from these countries and continents first settled in this state, which later attracted migrants from the same background. Some analysts have argued that NRW is migrant-friendly. There are several Route 3 Multilingualism: Evidence of sociolinguistic super-diversity (…) 171 job opportunities, especially for unskilled labour, due to the presence of many production firms in the area (Fleischer 2008). These immigrants have different statuses: they include students, men and women on family reunion visas, and asylum seekers. The migratory and settlement trends have led to ethnic and linguistic super-diversity in the Ruhr area due to the contact and mixture of languages and cultures (Vertovec 2007; Ziegler et al. 2019). The residents of the Ruhr area come from ethnically heterogeneous backgrounds, and the languages found in the Ruhr area are listed in the table below. Table 1: Languages in the Ruhr valley 1 2 3 4 5 6 German English Turkish French Italian Spanish 66.1% 19.6% 4.4% 1.5% 1.5% 1.1% 7 8 9 10 11 Arabic Latin Polish Dutch Chinese 0.7% 0.6% 0.5% 0.4% 0.33% (Adapted from Ziegler et al. 2019:268) These figures show that the top three languages in the Ruhr area are German, English, and Turkish. However, these 2019 figures might have changed due to the present-day large-scale migration of refugees from Arabic countries such as Syria, which means that the position of the Arabic language may have moved upwards on our chart. 3. Demonstration of super-diversity 3.1 Linguistic landscape: visual multilingualism The perception, significance and evaluation of visual multilingualism in the Ruhr area is based on the conception that: In this day and age languages surround us everywhere; languages appear in flashy advertisements and commercials, names of buildings, streets and shops, instructions and warnings, graffiti and cyber space […] (Shohamy/Gorter 2009:4) Route 3 Bridget Fonkeu 172 A presentation of some images of the linguistic landscape of the Ruhr valley includes public signs, posters, and advertisements that make it evident we are dealing with a very multilingual ecology (Cindark/ Ziegler 2019; Meierkord/Fonkeu/Zumhasch 2015). Just as in Belgium, where the posters display mixed languages (Blommaert 2010:10), here we find similar issues in the Ruhr region, where the posters appeal to different groups. In public places such as train stations, there is a need to reach out to people from different backgrounds and nationalities. Furthermore, advertisement posters can be found in shops that make use of different languages: Turkish, Arabic, English and German. Visual multilingualism in Germany’s Ruhr area displays the realities of the Essen, Dortmund, Bochum, Duisburg, and Mülheim an der Ruhr neighbourhoods characterized by multilingualism and super-diversity. Fig. 1 Main train station in Essen (German, English and French) Fig. 2 Main train station in Duisburg (German, English and French) Fig. 3 Dustbin on a street in Bochum (German, Turkish and Russian) Fig. 4 In an Afro shop in Essen (Basa, English, German and French) Fig. 5 Inside an African restaurant in Duisburg (Igbo, English and German) Figures 1–5 display elements of visual multilingualism in the Ruhr valley. Figures 1 and 2, which are announcements at train stations, show that there is a need to reach out to people of different languages. The Route 3 Multilingualism: Evidence of sociolinguistic super-diversity (…) 173 languages correspond to the order we have in Table 1, where German, English, Turkish and French are the first four dominant languages of the region. It is interesting to note that even though the Turkish language occupies the third position in the statistical classification, it is only found on a few public posters (Figure 3). Priority is often given to European languages (English and French). Figure 4 is a food packet in a Cameroonian food store in the Ruhr city of Essen. On the food label we have a mixture of languages: Basa (a Cameroonian indigenous language), German, English and French. Bobolo (Basa) is a Cameroonian delicacy made from fermented cassava. Here, Bobolo is translated to German as cassava Brot (‘cassava bread’); other German phrases on the packaging include Kerwarung (‘keep cold’, but the correct German translation would have been ‘kalt halten’), Halt bar Bis Dez 2018 (‘best before December 2018’). Again, we see that there is variation in the way German is written; ‘haltbar’ is one word but on the label here it is written as two words: Halt bar. Produit par agro-fresh consummer avant (‘produced by Agro-Fresh, to be consumed before’): here again, we see that the French word ‘frais’ is translated as fresh and ‘consommer’ is written consummer. The use of German, English, Basa and French on the same food label demonstrates the multilingualism of the community. The shop owner wants to attract every possible customer by using as many languages as possible. In other words, the different languages speak to the different groups of people within the community. The linguistic landscaping of the multilingual community indexes the mixtures, diversities, and hybridity of this diasporic community’s sociolinguistics. The posters appeal to a multiplicity of audiences: German, African, and Turkish communities. It can be observed that in these language contact situations, the syntactic and orthographic structures of some of the languages in contact with each other do not obey normal regulations or standards, adding to the observed super-diversity and hybridity. Figure 5 is from inside a Nigerian restaurant. In the expression mit fufu, mit is German, and fufu is a West African dish made from pounded yam or cassava. Bringing these two words together creates an interesting mixture of languages. The information in Figure 5 is in English, German and indigenous Nigerian languages. The hybridity is obvious in the expressions used on this poster: Soup mit fufu (‘soup and fufu’), Afro fleisch (‘African meat dishes’), breakfast special-Frühstück special (‘special breakfast’). The German word ‘spezial’ is spelt using the English orthography. It can also be observed that the German syntactic structure has been carried over and used in the English written here. Normally in English, we say special breakfast and not breakfast Route 3 Bridget Fonkeu 174 special. This is the hybridity and super-diversity that occurs in language contact situations (Blommaert 2014 & 2016). All these can be interpreted to mean a re-enactment of culture; these immigrants like to relive what they left behind. Furthermore, they like to share with others what they cherish in terms of socioculture. Here we see that Nigerian ethnic and sociolinguistic backgrounds have come into contact with German and European ones, thereby extending the Ruhr valley’s multilingualism and multiculturality. 3.2. Linguistic strategies: code-switching (code-mixing) An examination of the various linguistic activities within the multilingual African communities of Germany’s Ruhr area shows that another language has further complicated the sociolinguistic situation. These immigrants’ language behaviour is affected by this highly complex speech environment (Blommaert 2014 & 2016). Multilingual immigrants from African countries face a series of conflicting needs upon arrival in Germany’s Ruhr area. They wish to belong and be accepted within the sociocultural communities of existing African immigrant groups. At the same time, they need to integrate and achieve socioeconomic empowerment, which is the main objective of migration. These dual objectives usually have a great significance for a speaker’s language use. For instance, language choice will depend on the context, situation and interlocutor; thus, language choices are highly fluid. This means that speakers sometimes find it necessary to add new and complex resources to their already rich repertoire. Speakers sometimes become creative and innovative (Blommaert/Backus 2013; Blommaert 2014). This is because speakers learn to use the languages they come into contact with in specific ways to meet specific intentions and objectives. Features such as code-mixing, code-switching and borrowing observed in the language use of these Ruhr multilinguals are a consequence of this. Illustratively, Cameroonians have the following languages in their repertoire: Pidgin English and standard English is used within the family, as well as with other Anglophone Cameroonians and other Africans from English-speaking countries (Nigerians, Ghanaians, Gambians). English is also sometimes used as a lingua franca with other immigrants who do not yet know German. Cameroonians use German at work, on the streets, with German colleagues, in school or during training programmes, and as a lingua franca with other immigrants with whom they do not share a common language. These multilinguals use French with other Africans from French-speaking countries (Ivory Coast, Senegal). Route 3 Multilingualism: Evidence of sociolinguistic super-diversity (…) 175 Most first-generation Cameroonians have an indigenous language that they speak at home with family, at tribal and association meetings, and with tribesmen and women. Code-switching occurs when a speaker alternates between two or more languages, or language varieties, in the context of a single conversation (Myers-Scotton 1993). In the dialogue below, two Cameroonians and a Nigerian are driving from Mülheim an der Ruhr to attend a funeral in Dortmund. The dialogue documents the discussion that takes place between them. Dialogue no.1 1. Driver: A no think say we go schaffam eh. The traffic too high. The cry die di start na when again? (I do not think that we can make it on time. When is the funeral celebration starting?) 2. Mola: No worry we go reach no bi Oyibo something na darkie their own thing di always start late nooh. (Don’t worry we’ll arrive on time it is not a European but an African event our African events always start late.) 3. Gloria: You did not invite me to your birthday … abi? (You did not invite me to your birthday party, did you?) 4. Nadine: Chineke! I called you yesterday to ask you … see me see wahala (Didn’t I call to ask you yesterday Lord of Mercy! … this is not!) (exclaiming) In the statement A no think say we go schaffam on line 1, the word schaffam is a borrowed word from the German language: ‘Ich glaube nicht, dass wir es schaffen werden’ (I do not think that we will make it). Here we see that the borrowed word ‘schaffen’ has been altered to fit into the West African Pidgin (WAP) morphological structure. In WAP the English expression ‘to make it’ is make-am. This shows that in the German diaspora, WAP is in contact with the German language, which leads to lexical borrowing typical in such multilingual settings (Myers-Scotton 1993). The use of abi on line 2 and Chineke on line 4 are examples of these mixtures of ethnic languages. This dialogue also displays the solidarity and network created with the use of this language. Route 3 Bridget Fonkeu 176 Conclusion For [these immigrants] the border is no longer located at any fixed geopolitical site. [These immigrants] carry the border with [them], and [they] find new borders wherever they go […] For [them] home is both here and there (Gómez-Peña 2002:750). This quotation captures the fact that language use is dynamic and fluid, as illustrated by the immigrants of the Ruhr area. The boundaries between the translocal and the transnational are not always categorical or obvious. Immigrants adapt between languages and cultures in the different contexts in which they find themselves. They do not belong to either home or host countries; they often build up connections with and owe allegiances to both: they are here (Germany) and there (country of origin) (Kadje 2017). The Ruhr area’s diasporic space is experiencing a culmination of cultures and languages that is slowly expanding the sociocultural and sociolinguistic diversity of the region. Language choice is aimed at (re-)creating in-group solidarity, closeness, friendliness, belonging. Immigrants sometimes cling to cultural forms, but at other times they have to adhere to diasporic cultural forms, such as when university students are asked to refer to their professors by their first names. Language then becomes a source for celebrating diverse cultures. In many non-European cultures, it would be unheard of to refer to your lecturers and professors by their first names. Language choice within the Ruhr diasporic space depends on the context. As has been indicated, the presence of many other languages and cultures in a globalized context makes language choices complex, super diverse, and unpredictable (Blommaert/Rampton 2011). References Ad Backus, “Turkish as an Immigrant Language”, in: T.K. Bhatia/W.C. Ritchie (eds.), The Handbook of Bilingualism, Oxford 2004, pp. 689–724. A. Backus/N. Jorgen/C. Pfaff, “Linguistic Effects of Immigration: Language Choice, Code- Switching, and Change in Western European Turkish”, in: Language and Linguistics Compass, 4/7, pp. 481–495. G. Bernhard/F. Lebsanft (eds.), Mehrsprachigkeit im Ruhrgebiet, Tübingen 2012. S. Bird, Orthography and Identity in Cameroon, Pennsylvania 2001. J. Blommaert, The Sociolinguistics of Globalization, Cambridge 2010. J. Blommaert, “From Mobility to Complexity in Sociolinguistics Theory and Methods”, in: Tilburg Papers in Culture Studies, 103, 2014, https://www.tilburguniversity.edu /upload/5ff19e97-9abc-45d0-8773- d2d8b0a9b0f8_ TPCS_103_Blommaert.pdf (10.03.2020). Route 3 Multilingualism: Evidence of sociolinguistic super-diversity (…) 177 J. Blommaert, New Forms of Diaspora, New Forms of Integration, 2016, https://alternative-democracy-research.org/2016/02/03/new-forms-ofdiaspora-new-forms-of-integration/ (16.04.2021). J. Blommaert/A. Backus, “Superdiverse Repertoires and the Individual”, in: I. de Saint-Georges/J. J. Weber (eds.), Multilingualism and Multimodality: Current Challenges for Educational Studies, Rotterdam 2013, pp. 11–32. S. Canagarajah, “Translingual Practice as Spatial Repertoires: Expanding the Paradigm beyond Structuralist Orientations”, in: Applied Linguistics, 39/1, 2017, pp. 31–54. G. Gómez-Peña, “The New World Border”, in: G. M. Joseph/T. Anderson (eds.), The Mexico Reader, Durham 2002, pp. 750–751. D. Crystal, A Dictionary of Sociolinguistics and Phonetics, Oxford 1980. A. Fleischer, “Marriage over Space and Time among Male Immigrants from Cameroon in Germany”, Max-Planck Institute for Demographic Research working paper 2008-006, 2008, https://core.ac.uk/download/pdf/6385700.pdf (20.06.2020). L. N. Fonjong, “Equal Rights but Unequal Power over Land: Rethinking the Process of Engendering Landownership and Management in Cameroon”, in: Issues in Women’s Land Rights in Cameroon, Mankon 2012, pp. 19–42. B. Fonkeu, Multilingualism and Language Domains: An Empirical Study of Cameroonian Immigrants in the Ruhr Area, unpublished MA thesis, Ruhr University Bochum 2011. J. Friedrichs, “Intra-Regional Polarization: Cities in the Ruhr Area, Germany”, in: J. V. O’Loughlin/J. Friedrichs (eds.), Social Polarization in PostIndustrial Metropolises, Berlin 1996, pp. 133–172. W. Kallmeyer/I. Keim, “Linguistic Variation and the Construction of Social Identity in a German-Turkish Setting: A Case Study of an Immigrant Youth Group in Mannheim, Germany”, in: J. K. Androutsopoulus/A. Georgakopoulou (eds.), Discourse Construction of Youth Identities, Amsterdam 2003, pp. 29–48. P. Kerswill, “Migration and Language”, in: A. Ulrich/N. Dittmar/K. Mattheier (eds), Sociolinguistics: An International Handbook of the Science of Language and Society, vol. 2, Berlin 2006, pp. 2271–2285. C. Meierkord/B. Fonkeu/E. Zumhasch, “Diasporic Second Language Englishes in the African Communities of Germany’s Ruhr Area”, in: International Journal of English Linguistics, 5/1, 2015. C. Myers-Scotton, Social Motivation for Codeswitching. Evidence from Africa, Oxford 1993. V. N. Ngassa, “Exploring Women’s Rights within the Cameroonian Legal Sytem: Where do Customary Practices of Bride-Price Fit in?”, in: L. N. Fonjong (ed.), Issues in Women’s Land Rights in Cameroon, Mankon 2012, pp. 65–86. L.O. Salami, “Deference and Subordination. Gender Roles and Other Variables in Addressing and Referring to Husbands by Yoruba Women”, in: Linguistik Online, 21/4, 2004, pp. 65–80. E. Shohamy/D. Gorter, Linguistic Landscape: Expanding the Scenery, London 2009. I. Taavitsainen/H. A. Jucker, Diachronic Perspectives on Address Term Systems, Philadelphia 2003. S. Vertovec, “Super-Diversity and Its Implications”, in: Ethnic and Racial Studies, 30/6, 2007, pp. 1024–1054, http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/01419870701599465 (11.11.2020). E. Ziegler/I. Cindark, “Mehrsprachigkeit im Ruhrgebiet: Zur Sichtbarkeit sprachlicher Diversität in Dortmund”, in: S. Ptashnyk et al. (eds.), Gegenwärtige Sprachkontakte im Kontext der Migration, Heidelberg 2016, pp. 133–156. E. Ziegler/U. Schmitz, H.-H. Uslucan, “Attitudes towards Visual Multilingualism in the Linguistic Landscape of the Ruhr Area”, in: M. Pütz/M. Neele (eds.), Expanding the Linguistic Landscape: Linguistic Diversity, Multimodality and the Use of Space as a Semiotic Resource, Bristol 2019, pp. 264–299. Route 3 Photo: Paltoglou family archive Miltiadis Oulios 179 “The Nest of the Grɚeks” Greek cultural history in the Ruhr region: from Akropolis in Duisburg to Lakmann in Witten ▒▓░╟Mετάφραση, p.283╣░▓▒ Miltiadis Oulios is a freelance journalist in Düsseldorf. He works for WDR and Deutschlandfunk and presents Radiopolis. He has also published the books Blackbox Abschiebung and Köln kosmopolitisch, as well as realising theatre and music projects (Deep ya Deep). Route 1 Miltiadis Oulios 180 “The three ‘gorillas’ from the local mafia stepped into the room, took a moody glance at the tables of my restaurant and slowly walked towards three bar stools. Simultaneously they pulled the stools out towards them and sat down with their backs to the guests – just opposite the big Italian coffee machine on the counter. It should be noted now that the metal handles of the filter holders on this machine were big and heavy. The three giants took out a packet of cigars, gave each other a light and ordered three beers. I tried to look calm and especially ‘clueless’ as to the malicious intent of my three guests. After ‘Calypso’s’ thugs had finished their beers, they began to push the ashtrays off the bar, one after the other, with great pleasure, so that they crashed and smashed on the tiled floor. One of them stood up and threatened me with a raised fist: ‘Dirty Greek, we are only here today because of you. Just hand over the 500 Marks and we’re quits. You can see, our boss has a big heart. What’s 500 Marks to you? If you don’t agree, we’ll smash your place to bits.’ I didn’t say a word. I acted as though I wasn’t interested in what they said. But I tightly gripped the handle of a filter holder with each hand. And with a jump upwards, holding tight to the handles, I hit two of the three gorillas right in the face with the soles of my shoes, knocking them off their bar stools. With a precise hit to the neck I knocked the third to the floor too. I didn’t let them recover for a second. I thrashed them so bad, that when the police arrived, all they could do was call an ambulance. The next day an inspector from the commune’s security service visited me and gave me a revolver. He advised me to obtain the necessary gun licence immediately.” (Paltoglou 2012: 63ff.). Route 1 “The Nest of the Greeks” 181 Photo: Paltoglou family archive The Akropolis in Duisburg wasn’t just a Greek restaurant. It was a legend. The life story of the man who opened it in 1968 is worthy of the big screen. Dimitris Chatzigeorgiadis, a builder from the village of Toxotes in the province of Xanthi in eastern Greece, where the Bulgarian occupying forces, as allies of the Germans, committed massacres during the Second World War. In order to save his skin, Dimitris Chatzigeorgiadis fled to Austria of all places in 1942 and worked in an arms factory there. “Because he was stubborn – typically Greek – he started a fight with some Nazis and this landed him in the Kleinmünchen forced labour camp near Linz,” Efthimios Paltoglou, nicknamed Makis, reports. He still lives in Duisburg and transposed his uncle’s handwritten memoirs into a manuscript, just waiting to be published. “I put him under a lot of pressure and he wrote everything down,” Makis grins, “these are the subjective testimonies of his life.” The story of the Akropolis in Duisburg is a piece of the Ruhr region’s cultural history. Its cosmopolitan culture. Not the supposed cosmopolitanism of the so-called rich and beautiful, but rather our cosmopolitan culture from underneath. “Because the cosmopolis is us. The cosmos, the world, is before our front doors and that is our culture. […] The migration stories of immigrants are not only part of our collective German history, the cultures of these people are also part of our collective culture in Germany today.” (Oulios 2018: 39+49) Dimitris Chatzigeorgiadis, who everyone would later call “Barba Mitso” (“Uncle Mitso”), survived the Nazi forced labour camp and returned to Greece after the war, where he became a farmer, carpenter, and worked in a quarry. In 1960 he came to Hochtief in Duisburg as a builder. Many Gastarbeiter slaved away there, including other Greeks, with whom he lived in a barracks camp in Meiderich. But Dimitris Chatzigeorgiadis built himself a career. He described with some pride that he started a fight with Route 1 Miltiadis Oulios 182 a racist foreman and that due to his knowledge of German he was soon able to mediate between German authorities and Greek countrymen as a sworn interpreter. And he was especially proud of the fact that he introduced “piecework” to the building site. With a troop of German, Yugoslavian and Greek colleagues, he persuaded the management to pay them by piece, rather than working for an hourly rate. The quicker they completed a task on the site, the more money they earned per hour. According to his statements, it wasn’t rare for them to rack up 1,400 Marks by the end of the month, three times the average wage at the time. As an active unionist he also took part in a trip to the Soviet Union – as the only foreigner in the German delegation. Why did such a man open a restaurant? “My uncle didn’t really have any interest in gastronomy,” Makis Paltoglou explains. “The decision was of a political nature. He also opened Akropolis after many companions urged him to create a meeting place for democratically minded Greeks in Duisburg. A place in which they could come together, join forces and plan activities. From the time of its establishment in January 1968, Akropolis was a centre of the anti-dictatorial struggle in North Rhine-Westphalia.” In the previous year a right-wing military junta had taken power in Greece after a coup. As long as the military were in power, the Akropolis boss, who had already been politically active in Greece, could not visit his home without risking detention. Route 1 “The Nest of the Greeks” 183 Münzstrasse. Photo: Miltiadis Oulios The old Akropolis was on Münzstraße, where a faceless building, home to Knüllermarkt, stands today. Two Cretans ran a German pub there in the mid-1960s. And on the floors above was a semi-legal brothel. “The council told me I would only get a licence to open a restaurant if I could free the house of the underworld characters,” Barba Mitso writes in his memoirs (Paltoglou 2012: 54). So he gave the prostitutes and their entourage two weeks to move out. What followed were threats from the pimps and the Duisburg mafia under their sinister boss Calypso, who sent round protection money collectors after the Akropolis opened. Barba Mitso refused to bow to their pressure, as the scene at the start of this text impressively demonstrates. “The first thing I had to do was free the building of its bad reputation,” he recalls (ibid. 55). The German pub became a Greek taverna with what were still exotic-seeming starters for Germany at the time and a jukebox that played Greek songs. His wife Pinelopi, who now lived in Germany, took over the kitchen – their children, still small, lived with their grandparents in Greece. He put together a band of Greek labourers who lived in the region and could play the bouzouki, drums, accordion, and were also proficient singers. He wanted to offer his countrymen the chance to celebrate at the weekend and forget the hard work of the week. Route 1 Miltiadis Oulios 184 Route 1 Newspaper article from the Paltoglou family archive A sign at the entrance to Akropolis stated the following: “Entry for fascists or anyone affiliated to them forbidden!” A regular guest was the world-famous actress and resistance fighter Melina Merkouri, who later became the culture minister under the socialists in Greece in the 1980s and founded the European Capital of Culture programme. “When I invited comrade Melina Merkouri to Duisburg, it was utter madness. Melina only performed on Saturdays, because the restaurant had to stay closed on Sundays. The guests had smashed all of the plates in delight. How was I supposed to serve guests the next day without dishes? It wasn’t only her singing, but also her fierce speeches, her unconditionality, her determination to fight for democracy with all the means at her disposal. Her charisma passed on the flame of the fight to everyone who heard her, and motivated many to engage with the political situation in our country and to get involved in the anti-dictatorial struggle. Every time Melina came to Akropolis, I had to open all of the doors and windows because people crowded on the road in front of the restaurant too” (ibid. 57). “The Nest of the Greeks” 185 Newspaper article from the Paltoglou family archive “Our anti-dictatorial movement grew day by day. We often demonstrated with the German trade unions and the SPD at our side. At a statewide demonstration we organised, the state premier of North Rhine-Westphalia Heinz Kühn and his crew marched with us in the first row. Afterwards I invited them to Akropolis. This day was not only the beginning of a productive political collaboration; over time we got to know each other personally and he visited us countless times at Akropolis with his family and his employees. One evening, when Melina Merkouri was performing, he came by unannounced with his friends and there weren’t any tables free. He insisted on standing at the bar, so no one had to stand up for him: ‘We are all here to have a good time. I didn’t come as state premier, rather as your friend.’” (ibid. 72ff.). However, smashed windows, knives rammed into the door and threatening letters were part of everyday life at Akropolis. Dimitris Chatzigeorgiadis had become a target of Greek fascists and junta supporters. He describes how they twice tried to murder him at the end of the 1960s – the first time at a football match involving Hellas Duisburg, just as they had taken the lead. All the Greeks were celebrating in the stands. “At that moment, as I applauded carefree, I heard my maid of honour Evropi yell beside me: ‘Dimitri, look out, behind you!’ I reacted in a flash, turned around and lifted my arm. This movement saved my life” (ibid. 76). The knife attack was by a man who had clearly been sent by the regime in Athens. Ironically, Barba Mitso had helped this Route 1 Miltiadis Oulios 186 man with the immigration authorities a few months previously, and averted the deportation he had been threatened with due to moonlighting. Because of these threats, the state provided him with a bodyguard and police protection. “What I saw with my own eyes: my uncle still had a gun under the counter in 1980, when I got to know the Akropolis.” Makis Paltoglou left Greece in order to study business informatics in Germany. The Akropolis had already moved by then. In 1975 the city administration told Dimitris Chatzigeorgiadis that the building the old Akropolis occupied had to be torn down. At the same time the mayor personally offered him the use of a building on Dellplatz, on the corner of Goldstraße, right next to St. Joseph’s church, as an alternative. The Chatzigeorgiadis family was overjoyed. As well as the restaurant, there were two saloons and event rooms, a smaller one on the ground floor and a large one on the first floor. When the small street between the restaurant and the church was pedestrianised in the middle of the 1980s, the Akropolis was able to offer outdoor dining. The restaurant became a real goldmine and a popular location. For Barba Mitso’s family, this also meant foregoing summer holidays, as the warm season was also the gastronomical high season. “Other Greek families also lived in the house. I lived there myself for my first six months there,” Makis Paltoglou recalls. He waited tables at the Akropolis for five years while he was a student. The new Akropolis no longer had anything in common with the headquarters of the anti-dictatorial fight of the early years. “But it was still the nest of the Greeks,” as Makis Paltoglou explains, “the place was always full. At the weekend more Greeks, during the week more Germans. And it was a cultural hotspot. The people from the cultural department came regularly, the mayor, the chess club, many artists from the neighbouring cultural centre, students from the neighbouring halls. Barba Mitso was in the SPD and knew the world and his wife. The Akropolis was still political, but in a different way.” “It was no longer Barba Mitso’s job to serve the people, but rather to sit with the guests for hours on end and talk, to tell stories. And I remember my uncle as someone who helped everyone if he could. When I wanted to bring a friend of mine from Greece to Germany, he let him live there. If you had no money, and you went to him and said, ‘Barba Mitso, I can’t pay you,’ he would say, ‘Sit down and eat, bring your friend with you and when you have money again, you can pay, if not, that’s fine.’ Route 1 “The Nest of the Greeks” 187 When the Greeks were looking for a new place for their church, he used his contacts once again and the congregation was able to move into the crypt of St. Joseph’s. From then on the Akropolis was the focal point for Duisburg’s Greeks every Sunday after Mass.” “There was lots of partying. When I worked there as a student, we cleaned up after the last guests were gone. And then the good friends came,” Makis Paltoglou grins. “We ate mezes and drank beer and played cards until six in the morning.” For him, the Akropolis was a multicultural place from the start. “Everyone came, Turkish and Kurdish, Spanish, Italian people, as well as people from Africa, and not many of them lived here at the time.” Tayfun Demir also experienced the Akropolis as an open space. “For us it was interesting, because as left-wingers from Turkey we have a special interest in Greeks and Greece. The forced deportations and pogroms in Istanbul, for example, after which the Greeks had to flee, have always been a sad matter for the opposition. And the Akropolis was a kind of home and refuge for us too. There was Mediterranean food, we liked to listen to Greek music, Theodorakis songs, pieces composed in prison against the military powers. That was fantastic for us. And we ate there, talked, celebrated, and several times we also sang Turkish folk songs with twenty people.” Tayfun Demir himself fled from Turkey for political reasons at the end of the 1970s. Politically persecuted Turks came to Duisburg and often assembled at Akropolis, especially after the military coup in 1980. “Greeks and Turks met there, but you couldn’t really talk consciously of ‘multiculturalism’, as we understand the term today. It was more international political solidarity. But otherwise the Greeks always went to their own cafés in Hochfeld and the Turks to theirs.” Akropolis was more than a Greek restaurant. The neighbourhood initiatives that Tayfun Demir was involved in met there for example. He was also involved in organising a national symposium on migration and children’s literature in the bar of the Akropolis. In this way, authors such as Rafik Shami and Sinasi Dikmen also read at Akropolis. -> Route 1 Miltiadis Oulios 188 “ich wollte schreiben so wie schiller oder shakespeare, doch ich wurd zuerst zum kiffer und dann killah in dem game hier” (Lakmann 2012) (“I wanted to write just like Schiller or Shakespeare, but first became a stoner and then a killah in this game here”) These lines are by Evangelos Polychronidis, better known as Lakmann, rapper, and member of the hip-hop crews Creutzfeld & Jakob and Witten Untouchable. What lines of connection are there between the first generation, who created places such as the Akropolis (a “nest” for “countrymen”, which became a meeting place for everyone in the course of time), and the third generation, that was born in Germany and is, for example, at home in German rap? Route 1 “The Nest of the Greeks” 189 Photo: © EarTouch “My grandfather also fled from the military dictatorship and supported the underground in Greece with weapons and money via Yugoslavia for years. These are things I only found out after my eighteenth birthday. It is, I think, also a classic story for many people of this first generation. There is also a lot of this in Greek culture, the rebelliousness, Rebetiko and so on for me. I hear that from many, but ultimately always in retrospect. I also didn’t know this about my family for years. Only once I became an adult did my father say to me: ‘Do you actually know all the things your granddad has done?’ He was also active in the Greek community in Witten. You think they are all peace-loving old grandads, but they didn’t flee without reason. Most people then tried to just live here in peace and start a family. My grandpa only did his apprenticeship as a metalworker at Opel aged 32, after he had left all that shit behind him.” Lakmann has been active as an artist for over two decades now, flying the flag for rap that is not commercially ingratiating. “When I see German rap and hip-hop, it makes me feel sick at the moment. All that homogenous violence, sexism, glamour, bling-bling, luxury cars, machismo stuff, it makes the hair on the back of my neck bristle.” For his fans he is a cult figure, but his Greek background doesn’t play a role in his music. No references, almost nothing – even though up to the age of five he spent lots of time with his grandparents, only spoke Greek and knew the Hercules saga by heart. As a small child he was always there in folk costume when his parents and their friends were out at parties with the Witten dance group Apollon. “It is my family and my culture. But I never had to transport that via hip-hop. That was really important to me. I could Route 1 Miltiadis Oulios 190 never stand it myself when other people did that. I find it really bad to adopt this nationality thing in hip-hop and go around like the Pied Piper, binding people to you with it. That’s not the reason why we or my generation started rapping. It was totally irrelevant whether you are Greek, German, Turkish, Kurdish, Arab. All of my friends who I grew up with were Kurds and Turks. And for me it was always very important that hip-hop represents a cultural platform where your background is not important.” And yet. Although he began to shed his Greekness more and more once he started school, although going to Greek parties as a teenager became more and more of a duty, and although he helped shape German rap, the Greekness has not gone. The places of the past, a bouzouki bar in Bochum for example, where his parents used to go, no longer exist. For the German rapper from Witten, Greek lifestyle is “what I always carry in my heart.” And food, music, air, people, as well as a thought that still seemed inconceivable in his mid-twenties: “I believed my whole life that because I was born here, I would be the first generation of my family to spend their old age in Germany. But the older I get, the more often I notice I could imagine spending my twilight years in Greece by the sea and not in cold Germany.” Barba Mitso from Akropolis did that too. He returned to Greece and moved to a house by the sea. After almost thirty years as a restaurant owner, he had to close the Akropolis because Duisburg city council terminated the rental agreement. On this site today, next to the Filmforum, is the Grammatikoff, a pub with a cultural programme, which is now, in 2020, actually looking for a new tenant. When Makis Paltoglou pays a visit now and then, it is not the same. He thinks nostalgically of the warm atmosphere of the past. Barba Mitso wrote down what he noticed when he visited Duisburg again as a pensioner in 2007. Calypso, the former mafia boss, had become a beggar, going from pub to pub to crounging beer. Route 1 “The Nest of the Greeks” 191 Photo: Paltoglou family archive 1 This quote and information are from a private discussion with Efthimios Paltoglou in December 2020. 2 This quote and information are from a private discussion with Tayfun Demir in January 2021. 3 This quote and information are from a private discussion with Evangelos Polychronidis in January 2021. References Efthimios Paltoglou, ›Barba Mitso‹ vom Akropolis (Ο Μπάρμπα Μήτσος της Aκρόπολης), unpublished manuscript, Duisburg 2012. Miltiadis Oulios, Köln kosmopolitisch. Wie wir unsere Kultur neu erfinden, Cologne 2018. Lakmann, Wofür mach ich das?, https://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=e56k5abS2Ts&list=RDe56k5abS2Ts&start_radio=1 (10.04.2021), 2012. Route 1 In conversation: Eva Busch, Guy Dermosessian, Abdou Diamé 192 Shaping the voids ▒▓░╟Traduction, p. 289╣░▓▒ Eva Busch is a freelance curator and cultural worker from Bochum who is interested in the critical analysis of power structures in forms of remembrance, difference, and the possibilities of collectivity. Her praxis centres around atelier automatique. In this collective studio on Rottstraße in Bochum, established in 2016/17, art is created, shown, and discussed in search of forms of solidary cultural production. Guy Dermosessian was born in Beirut. He is a DJ, the founder of the label Kalakuta Soul Records, and works as an artist and curator. He has run the diversity department at the Düsseldorf Schauspielhaus theatre since 2019 and curates the series Embracing Realities. He is currently working on a new community radio format based in Bochum with Gin Bali, Monita Wagma, and Kübra Sekin. The DJ, musician and organiser Abdou Diamé, alias D'Jammeh, arrived in Berlin from Paris in the mid-1990s. Since 2000, he presents his various artistic and cultural formats, mainly in North Rhine-Westphalia. Route 2 Shaping the voids 193 Fabian Saavedra-Lara (FSL): Could you start by telling us how we worked together in the context of Interkultur Ruhr; what exactly those projects are, and what your experiences were? We wanted to focus on the theme of music in this Bochum session. Guy Dermosessian (GD): As far as I see it, our collaboration actually began with Off the Record, on your initiative, Fabian, when we tried to create a kind of network with different protagonists and various people across the entire Ruhr region, in collaboration with Avril Ceballos from Cómeme Records. It centred around questions of pop culture or club culture on a local, regional level, but also with a strong global network. Which formats can be initiated to lift the themes of club and pop culture up to a cultural level? It was very open back then: should it take the form of an event? Are they simply just network meetings? Is there a discursive level? Off the Record grew out of precisely these considerations: which formats can be initiated to lift the themes of club and pop culture up to a cultural level, in order to talk about which mechanisms of exclusion are reproduced there? Back then it was about spaces in which these cultural practices manifest, as well as economic questions. Who profits from these cultures? At what point are these cultures or these cultural practices recognised? Through Avril’s work with her label, and also through my working practice in Bochum with my label, we immediately began a discussion on how pop cultures from the Global South and especially diasporic pop cultural movements here in Germany act to create an ever more hegemonic understanding of pop culture and club culture. And how a certain monetarising and thus precariousness is related to that. This was our starting point at the time and the guests we invited were related to that. We invited Jannis Stürtz from Habibi Funk and Ernesto Chahoud for the first event. At the time this selection was based on the fact that Jannis is a white man from Germany, who ultimately makes money with a music culture from the Arabian region – from the Middle East and North Africa – but on the other hand also popularises it in Europe. Ernesto Chahoud is a protagonist from Beirut who advocates for the Arabic club scene and publicises the fact that there is a kind of local or even regional club and dance culture, both there and across the Arabian region. And that this was not an emancipatory step that came from Europe, rather that developments there have long been neglected. Correspondingly these various interac- Route 2 In conversation: Eva Busch, Guy Dermosessian, Abdou Diamé tions run through all the events. Eva Busch (EB): I remember that evening with Jannis and Ernesto too. I was in the audience. The room was so full that it was hard to get in. And what I took from it above all was the precise talking and listening. I had the feeling that this was possible and that is something that interests me fundamentally, also in our praxis at atelier automatique: creating spaces in which people can speak in a complex, differentiated, but not too cerebral and academic way, and in which perhaps surprising encounters can also take place. That is part of what drives me at atelier automatique. Guy approached me and asked if we were interested in having an evening with Kornelia Binicewicz take place here in the atelier. That was in 2018, if I remember rightly. We are actually a working space. Sometimes we put on events, and relatively often they are around themes that have something to do with feminism. I understood that Guy thought our space was fitting for the evening with Kornelia, who also focuses explicitly on music by women, especially from Turkey, in her record collecting and DJing. I was happy to, because I think the listening session format is wonderful, like a weaving of discourses, but there is also a simple pleasure in shared music. Two listening sessions took place in our space, the first with Kornelia Binicewicz, and then another evening with Hiba 194 Salameh, where we invited Banafshe Hourmazdi to be the host and conversation partner. I found the discussions that arose in this space rewarding both times. Another connection, that was surely not totally coincidental: Julia Nitschke and I were both involved in a project in 2018, in which we dealt with the history of the feminist struggle. It was a research and exhibition project called Emanzenexpress, gemeinsam sind wir gemeiner (Women’s Libber Express, Meaner Together). We researched the history of the feminist struggle here in Bochum in the 1980s and 1990s in three women’s archives and initiated a two-month exhibition and meeting place. For us this was also about looking at aesthetic practices from this period and Kornelia’s records complemented this well. FSL: I would like to bring you into the conversation Abdou. Would you like to tell us what Teranga Bochum e.V. does, and the form in which we worked together? Abdou Diamé (AD): There are two sides to my work: I have worked as a DJ and festival organiser in Germany for almost 30 years. Teranga means “hospitality” in my native tongue of Wolof from Senegal. We try to do intercultural work under the motto “We belong here too”. This means questioning the structures. Why do many African organisations not have the courage to approach an organisation like Interkultur Ruhr? I found it interesting in this respect that you Route 2 Shaping the voids 195 supported me with the first festival. As I said, I am a disc jockey, but for the past two years I have also worked with my own association Teranga Bochum e.V., through which I launched a music festival in Bochum with a couple of friends. FSL: We had also planned to work together on the Intercultural Calendar … AD: Yes, that would have been very nice. We planned to organise a party together for the breaking of the fast on Ramadan. In Senegal, Ramadan doesn’t only mean that you fast, there is also always a party after breaking fast, no matter where, in which people come together under the motto: it is not just about prayer, there are other things involved, too. We wanted to organise a small party with bands in Bochum in 2020. I would have liked to have brought a band over from Paris. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out due to the pandemic. It would have been at the Consol Theater in Gelsenkirchen. We also wanted to offer food and drinks and so on, in order to show how easily people of different religions can live together, if you do it like we break fast in Senegal. FSL: Then let’s hope that we can do it at some point in the future! There’s a question that we ask all of the interviewees. When Johanna and I started at the Interkultur Ruhr project in 2016, it was, for us, also about pushing against the grain of the term “intercultural” a bit and considering what we could actually say under this heading. We came up with the idea of talking about the migration of sounds and music. But I think it would be interesting for our discussion to find out what you think of this term and whether it even means anything in the framework of your work – and what that could be. EB: I don’t talk about my work as being intercultural. I have never used that term to describe my work, at least I don’t remember doing so. At the most I could say that the work here in the atelier is intercultural, if you assume that it speaks to people somewhere between a middle-class jazz audience and Fantifa. And perhaps there is also something intercultural in that? What resonates for me in the term, of course, is that our society is one structured through power. An examination of mechanisms of exclusion and various forms of discrimination definitely characterises my work here too. It is also defined by constantly failing and trying and reconsidering time and again, and in the end coming together in surprisingly different ways. Perhaps that also has something to do with the term too, but I don’t really use it. AD: I use this word, intercultural, because it indicates recognising the diversity of cultures and the differences. And that is important in networks such as Interkultur Ruhr. I always say that culture is not a one-way street, where you know which direction it is going. Route 2 In conversation: Eva Busch, Guy Dermosessian, Abdou Diamé That’s why I think it’s a very interesting thing, right? We also have to recognise that a lot has changed compared to the past. People are a lot more critically aware than say 30, 40, or 50 years ago. I therefore have no inhibition in using this word, as it is part of our everyday life these days. EB: I was just thinking: the fact that I don’t use that term at all definitely has something to do, I think, with a white positioning; that I have the feeling of perhaps ascribing something to other people if I use it. And that I don’t want to do that. AD: What you say is interesting, because we had this discussion back at Funkhaus Europa. We sat together at the beginning and I was one of those who was against all these terms like “Global Sound”. At the time I more or less specialised in bringing musicians from Africa to Europe. I always tried to explain to people that there is not just one music of Africa. When you’re in a country like Senegal, there are twelve different ethnic groups, and each has its own rhythm, its own melody, its own music. That’s the reality. Do you know what I mean? EB: Yes, I think so. It’s not about a fear of what you refer to as intercultural. But I think that there is a very white-defined discourse around the term “intercultural” that has a lot to do with people being reduced to precisely that, being told: “You have to make African music”, or whatever. And that is reproduced. That’s why I don’t really 196 like to use the term in my world. AD: Sure, I understand that. But that’s why I said at the start that culture isn’t a one-way street. We now have, for example, the possibility for the four of us to talk to and see each other from different places. We didn’t have that 20 years ago, or it would have been difficult. Culture develops and changes. GD: I have very many points of But I think that there is a very white-defined discourse around the term “intercultural”. contact with the term in various family and professional constellations. And I struggled a lot with the term, until I really took it apart for myself and managed to see that what intercultural describes is a void that is to be shaped, not an obligation. In a very long discussion a year ago, I realised that the perspective of people who are in the second or third generation is not always directly comparable with that of people in the first generation. I see it in my children – I can be surprised by their perspective. At some point my rejection of the Route 2 Shaping the voids 197 term switched to an adoption, on a level where we can collectively shape how the term can work for us. And then there is what Abdou described: celebrating cultural integrity, but equally using these voids for an encounter or development or creation of a community. So “both one and the other”. That gave me a good feeling, because I rediscovered that I am not always struggling; rather, I can take this space in order to be able to imagine again – and starting from me, and not from the expectations of what I could theoretically do. FSL: Dear Eva, dear Abdou, dear Guy, thank you for the great conversation! Route 2 Takiภg In conversation: Marisa Álvarez, Josué Partida, Virginia Novarin 198 home out‫ګ‬ide ▒▓░╟Übersetzung p.293╣░▓▒ Fest is a in a last der Toten (Día de Muertos) Dortmund, with its roots in Central America, project by Josué Partida and Virginia Novarin that commemorates the dead very lively way. Fest der Toten Dortmund takes place every year on the weekend in October. Route 2 Taking home outside 199 Josué Partida (JP): My name is Josué Partida, I am Mexican and have lived in Germany for 16 years. It was actually engineering that brought me to Germany, to Dortmund, but I have always been interested in music. And now I dedicate most of my time to it. I am an electrical engineer and studied for a master’s in robotics at the TU Dortmund University. My course also had a lot to do with sound and with what I do professionally. This area had always interested me, and at some point I started to work less as an engineer and became more involved in audio engineering. I made more and more music and got to know many people in this field. Among them was Martin Schneider. He is a singer-songwriter and had a band called Scherbenwelt at the time. I was looking for a job and had three more months here in Dortmund, but when I met him I saw that it was really possible to do something “serious” with music. From then on it seemed possible for me to follow this dream. Now I am busy with music around the clock. I run a music studio, where I mainly produce my music, but also other projects that interest me. Recently we have done projects, especially with my wife Marisa Álvarez, where we mix Latin American music with other rhythms of the world and digital technology – so, elements that don’t usually belong to traditional music. I like that a lot: connecting the technical and the artistic side. I have been here in Germany for 16 years and am happy to be in Dortmund. Dortmund has become my second home, because the city has really fulfilled all of my wishes – in a professional respect, but also on the artistic and personal side. Dortmund has given me great friends and enabled me to fulfil this dream of connecting work and art. I am very happy to be here. Fabian Saavedra-Lara (FSL): And Marisa, how long have you been in Germany? Marisa Álvarez (MA): I am the newest here, in January (2021) it will be two years. Before that I didn’t even know that Dortmund existed. FSL: Didn’t you know the football club? MA: No, I am not really a football fan. But my mother always said: “Ah yes, Dortmund, Leverkusen, Bayern.” And I would say: “Ok …” But no, I had never heard the name. But when I wanted to come to Germany for a first tour, I found out that Josué lives here. He is the friend of a friend. And this friend told me: “Oh yes, he can help you, he is Mexican, knows about music, is an engineer, he studied at the same university as you and can give you some tips.” Well yes, he helped me a lot to understand how the music world works and how I can do things here as a Mexican – so we became good friends. We began to work together. He invited me to the party he organises with Virginia: the Fest der Toten. I had Route 2 In conversation: Marisa Álvarez, Josué Partida, Virginia Novarin a Catrina show I had prepared for another party in Paris. Many of the things that we did and wanted in life were similar. We understand each other better all the time and now we live together. We have a load of projects, which we work on every day, and I am very excited about it. Dortmund gave me many things that I had never expected. And I love this place, which I could never have imagined, because there were no expectations, right? Everything was a surprise, and it is a wonderful gift to get to know people like you. It is like a wonderful family that I have put together here. And this party was the impetus for several things. When I was invited to take part again, I prepared even more things that I might also need for my own show. And we have been organising these things for several years now. Costumes, music, videos … I love the project that these two magicians next to 200 me here thought up; they create magic out of nothing and suddenly, boom! And I love being part of it. FSL: And what is your impression of the region, Marisa? You got to know Dortmund as a city at a different moment, right? How do you see the region, the city, the Ruhr region …? MA: Well for me it was a big surprise, because I had, as I said, no expectations or preconceptions. The only image that I had of Germany was perhaps one from films and books, and they have nothing to do with what Dortmund really is. So my first impression was: “What is this? Where have I landed?” It was not as I had imagined it. But look: since my youth I have wanted to live in a place that is international and multicultural, and my ideal was New York. Obvious, right? I had the dream of living there one day. My sister has lived there for several years, Route 2 Taking home outside 201 I visited her a couple of times and I love that place. But after I had lived here for some months, I realised that Dortmund had given me much of what I wanted, if not everything. And that it’s a multicultural place, full of differences, with surprises on every corner. And I love walking around the streets and seeing people who speak different languages that I don’t know, but can definitely hear that they are different. That’s nice, right? To see that things like that can exist next to each other in such a small place. There are so many cultures here, and I think that they are the driving force behind so many cultural and artistic developments. FSL: That’s why we at Interkultur Ruhr say that this region, the Ruhr region, is like the continent Pangaea. Super cosmopolitan and super diverse. MA: Yes, I definitely see it like that. FSL: And you, Virginia? Virginia Novarin (VN): It is interesting for me to do this interview with you, Fabian, as we met a long time ago, when I came to Germany in 1998. FSL: I was a teenager. VN: What can I tell you? I came to Germany, straight to Dortmund, from Buenos Aires 23 years ago. Everyone asked me: “Oh no, how do you survive? How can you stand living here?” The view of the Ruhr region has changed in the last 20 years. Interculturality has taken on another dimension. I was always happy with Dortmund, perhaps because I come from a big city. In the past it was: “The Ruhr region is ugly and grey, it’s better elsewhere!” But I must say that I came here with a baby and afterwards had a And I love walking around the streets and seeing people who speak different languages that I don’t know, but can definitely hear that they are different. second child. A few years passed before I took up my artistic work again. My first cultural integration in Germany came through the children, my social life, trips out and so on. So I was surprised that Dortmund is not only grey. It is also green, there is so much forest, so much landscape in the city. What is there to do here? Anything. If you come from a huge city like Buenos Aires, where you need hours to Route 2 In conversation: Marisa Álvarez, Josué Partida, Virginia Novarin get from A to B, in order to meet someone or visit some cultural event, and you compare that with the area of the Ruhr region, you come to the conclusion that the Ruhr region is actually the same … Dortmund is where I live, and for me that means that my friends are here, it is a place in which you can develop personally and artistically, it is the surroundings in which you live and the vicinity. I studied art in Buenos Aires and specialised in printing techniques. In art I have always done all kinds of things – in my studio I work on sculptures, I paint, I draw … My It is important to interact with people, to exchange with others. work is diverse, I work on various objects simultaneously. When I work, I am often somewhere else in my thoughts. You need a goal, a purpose, to make art; painting pictures just for an exhibition or to keep them for later is not important for me. It is important to interact with people, to exchange with others, that nourishes you with new ideas … It creates the opportunity to show more. FSL: And how did the initiative 202 for the Fest der Toten emerge? VN: Josué and I met in 2006. For a while we lost contact. Years later we met coincidentally at a Rewe supermarket. That’s another good thing about Dortmund. Josué invited me to his Fest der Toten at his home in November. I knew about the Mexican Fiesta de Muertos from my time studying art. The pre-Columbian, historical part, with the sacrifices, illustrations, friezes, costumes … The “living” part of the party, the music, the poetry, the food, the interaction with people, I have only experienced that at his party. In that moment the cogs started to turn in my head. The theme brought my different interests together. How many years ago was that? JP: About three years since the last Fest der Toten just with friends. VN: And then, in the last year that it was a private party, I said to him: “Josué, you should make it bigger.” Because what happens at this party of the dead, the essence, the significance that this tradition has, is really important. It is a theme that is relevant to us all … “It’s a shame there’s not enough space in your flat. If you do it next year, you will have to do it somewhere else where more people can take part.” In my mind I was already busy with the clothes and decoration. And I convinced him, because at the beginning he was a bit reserved. JP: The Fest der Toten was always a very collaborative thing, and we finally did it in the Pro- Route 2 Taking home outside 203 jektspeicher here in Dortmund Nordstadt. They helped us with designing the invitations, they provided us with the event location. So many things were already done. FSL: And it has been a complete success. I was there last year (2019), and there were hundreds of people involved. It was great – and is almost unimaginable currently (2021), right? JP: It has grown a lot in the last four years … Last year it was very full, and we didn’t know where we would seat people. VN: We try to retain the concept of our Fest der Toten every year. We try to stay true to its origin or origins … We don’t want it to lose the intimate character of a gathering of friends … FSL: I am very interested in such a context, in the mixture of different concepts and traditions, you know? JP: If someone asked what was intercultural about Fest der Toten, I would say: everything, right? Beginning with the fact that we all come from different countries, live in a third country, and are orga- nising a Mexican party, but with elements from different countries. And we want to express that too. Also, it has its origin in the Mexican Day of the Dead, and we work with these elements, because they are, like Virginia said, beautiful images. We also take these elements and put them together with others, as we please, like visual aspects, design, decoration, the music that we make, the food … And we are interested in inviting people from other cultures who bring their own ideas with them. We want to promote that even more, right? So far, it has been about communicating our own interculturalism, so to speak. But we would like to work together more with the international community. That is a very personal thing, it is as if we are spreading out our living room, taking our home outside. FSL: Many thanks Virginia, Marisa, Josué. I wish you all the best for the future and for your various projects, and I really hope that we can see each other in person soon and celebrate at your party! Route 2 Lütfiye Güzel 205 that I thought I had to keep on going because everything was OK & I don’t have to hold up my hands to anyone I walked on although my legs didn’t want to at least not in the same direction but I understand myself it’s because of the working-class complex because art is not a real job you are always not far from being ashamed that you write about your green bicycle while the others all simultaneously start their cars & drive to their real jobs & I also thought people do me a favour because I am allowed to read & stuff though hardly anyone does you a favour for nothing I also felt that I don’t fit in there again but I understand myself how could it be any different? Route 1 Fatih Kurçeren: Bir Zamanlar Ruhr Fatih Kurçeren 218 Bir Zamanlar Ruhr Through pictures I share my perception of the Ruhr as a region, in which identities and fixed social structures dissolve. I imagine the Ruhr region as a stage, on which various plays about immigration and the convergence of diverse cultures have been performed for more than 150 years. I – myself an immigrant – direct the gaze of my camera at this region and its inhabitants. In order to achieve this, I moved between the cities and the blurred edges of the societies in them on foot. The location of their centres seems just as unclear as questions of their norms, of what is inside and outside, of what is foreign and intrinsic to them. It is the people themselves that take centre stage – protagonists who create themselves and their surroundings anew in each moment. They appear to me as actors in their own ways of life through fragmentary stagings and mutual observations. Fatih Kurçeren studied photography at Folkwang University of the Arts from 2005 and worked as a freelance photographer in Oberhausen. During his studies he received an international scholarship from NRW’s Federal Cultural Foundation for a residency in Turkey. In 2013 he received a grant from the VG Bild-Kunst foundation for the project ‘“Armenians in Lebanon and Their New Home”. In 2017 his first short film “Motorway of Macedonia“ was shown at Les Rencontres de la Photographie in Arles. Photographs from his long-term project “Pithead” were recently published in the programme booklet as part of Ruhrtrienalle 2020. In the same year the series was shown at Kunsthalle Düsseldorf and in 2021 his work was published as a photobook by Wasmuth & Zohlen Verlag. Fatih Kurçeren was accepted as member of the German Photographic Academy (DFA) in 2021. He lives and works in the Ruhr region. We D໑n’t Neeब़ Any More Guid‫ڠ‬ Guid ‫ڠ‬lines! 220 TALKING ABOUT THE FUTURE. PRASANNA OOMMEN & ELLA STEINMANN IN CONVERSATION WITH AURORA RODONÒ Prasanna Oommen has worked as a presenter (German/English), public relations officer and consultant in culture, education, society and media for 20 years. She is a trained dancer and has taught dance to both young people and adults. www.prasannaoommen.de Prasanna Oommen is an active member of the Neuen deutschen Medienmacher*innen, where she is a mentor as part of the Mentoring@Ruhrgebiet project. This nationwide network of journalists advocates for good reporting and diversity within the media, including the targeted promotion of new talent. See: https://neuemedienmacher.de/nachwuchs/mentoring-ruhrgebiet Ella Steinmann supports Theater Oberhausen as a diversity development agent. Her work on driving processes of structural change towards more equity in art and culture began in the education department of Stiftung Mercator, and continued during her time as a project manager at Zukunftsakademie NRW. She lives with her family in the Ruhr region. Route 3 Prasanna Oommen & Ella Steinmann in conversation with Aurora Rodonò 221 The master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house. Audre Lorde Voices/dramaturgy: Prasanna Oommen, presenter & public relations officer Ella Steinmann, diversity agent Silent moderation/dramaturgy: Aurora Rodonò, diversity manager The following is a conversation between colleagues, friends, sistas – three differently positioned women, whose motivation is to effect social justice in the fields of art, culture, media and science. Sometimes they are combative, sometimes angry, then optimistic, and sometimes they just want to talk. Locating Ella Steinmann (ES): I am Ella Steinmann, and I work as a diversity development agent at Theater Oberhausen, as part of a programme by the German Federal Cultural Foundation called 360° – Fond für Kulturen der Neuen Stadtgesellschaft.1 Before that I was a project assistant and then a project manager at ZAK,2 which at the time was an association for diversity in culture that advised cultural institutions throughout North Rhein-Westphalia on processes of change and opening up. I also know Prasanna through working at ZAK. Prasanna Oommen (PO): I am Prasanna Oommen, and I have worked in public relations and as a presenter for 20 years. As the press officer for ZAK NRW, I built up and was responsible for the PR department for many years. In my other life, I have practised and taught dance for 45 years. That is actually my core identity. I have a classical Indian dance education, and worked for a long time as a dancer in India and also in Germany. My first steps into public relations were when I had to manage my own dance group as the choreographer during my studies in Cologne; I used to write the texts myself in order to ensure that the content and the dancers were not being exoticised. Only later did I understand that this was already diversity-sensitive PR, wanting to cancel out journalistic linguistic norms. ES: There are also many things in my life and in my work that I only understood later on. I often didn’t have the vocabulary to describe what I meant. Nowadays I try to make sure my work interrogates discrimRoute 3 Prasanna Oommen & Ella Steinmann in conversation with Aurora Rodonò 222 ination and power structures – that was the case at ZAK, just as it is now at Theater Oberhausen. I want to look at institutions through this prism and, where possible, change them. However, every institution is of course embedded in a structure and every change has a limited sphere of effect. PO: Absolutely, Ella, we know that very well from our time at ZAK. When a cultural or educational institution is confronted with themes like equity, equal opportunities, accessibility and the distribution of privileges, in their content and in their own structures, the moment always comes when these institutions have to show their true colours – in terms of the bigger picture, what they really want to achieve. ES: Do they want nice projects or to sustainably change the institution as a whole? All change is hard work. But the attempt to institutionally create more fairness is not a neutral process. I am still so happy that I had such a moment of clarity in my interview at the theatre. I said in the interview: “I see the role of an agent for diversity development as a constantly critical authority.” So, as a constant whinger. I am not there to tell you what you are doing well. Instead, I will try to point to gaps or to the potential for change. PO: You cannot put it like that in public relations – “I am the whinger” – but of course I am! But only internally. So, I go in there and make recommendations to the management, for example, “Look, if you write texts like that or give speeches like that, then you are not being inclusive. You are conveying themes in a certain way that the usual suspects might like, but in turn you are closing other doors.” If we want to advise well in PR, we must also pay attention to building communication bridges with the team, to internal publicity as well. And so, you are soon in the realm of critiquing internal power structures. But I don’t necessarily express that – I let it come to the surface organically, within the team processes. Perspective shifts and terms ES: The discussions about artistic content, about the canon, material, strategies, and approaches conducted in teams show that the perspectives of people with different societal positions and experiences are enriching and necessary. Social diversity is a fact that brings with it questions of representation in institutions. How are these various diverse perspectives represented in institutions, and on which levels? And that is in turn connected to a critical approach, which also looks at social power structures. It is therefore clear to me that it cannot be only about installing people somewhere. It must also be about giving these people Route 3 We Don’t Need Any More Guidelines! 223 influence, the chance to contribute their different and new perspectives. PO: Yes, translating diversity of perspectives into action is actually key, and this last step is sadly often not taken. I must honestly say that I am reluctant when it comes to all of these terms, just like many of my comrades. Whether it’s “diversity” or “interculturalism”. But that has to do with history. I performed as a dancer at numerous “multicultural festivals” when I was a child. I can still recall the uneasiness of being positioned in this context. The problem for me was, and is, these notions of cultural attribution that do not include the German-ness of people with plural identities. That’s why I actually have a problem with all of these terms. ES: “Intercultural” is not a term that I use in everyday life. I use it in funding contexts, if I am sitting on a jury and the term is in the title. Otherwise, I ask myself: “Are we really talking about intercultural and some supposed cultural differences that might be there, or are we actually talking about discrimination and are using this ‘other’ word because it is somehow nicer?” I have the impression that in very, very, many contexts where the term is used, it actually means something else. Beyond othering, or: The question of an intercultural aesthetic ES: “Intercultural aesthetic” or the “migrant eye” are othering terms. They describe everything that is not the white norm. Just like the term POC describes everything that is not the white norm. It is used like that now and is also useful for naming and describing a non-white perspective. But it is actually clear that there is an indescribable diversity within that. It conflates something that cannot actually be conflated. These terms comprise too many different perspectives. We use these terms anyway, but they are complete nonsense on an aesthetic level. Designating art “intercultural” is more a political term, because it describes a political power imbalance, but no aesthetic or artistic character. PO: The cultural canon here in Germany plays a huge role in aesthetics and the theme of “quality assessment” is directly linked to it. I like to call it the holy grail of civil society. That is precisely why I would resist saying that something like a “migrant eye” exists. There are different artistic perspectives and aesthetics – beyond Europe and its perspective. I am so resolute on this because the exoticisation and folklorisation of migrant cultural heritage by white mainstream societies has a causal connection with colonial power fantasies. That is an observation I have made through 45 years of performance and 20 years of mediation in a form of dance that often has to resist Western, degrading categorisaRoute 3 Prasanna Oommen & Ella Steinmann in conversation with Aurora Rodonò 224 tion – that is, by the way, not only something you experience with older generations in a cultural context, but also particularly among privileged young artists. Canon and quality: Revolution or reform? ES: I think that we have to subject this dominant canon to a stocktaking exercise, and that first requires the will to do so and then lots of patience. It will not happen overnight, it is a process. And at some point, the time comes when you read certain material and say: “It doesn’t matter that it has been staged time and again over 50 years, we just can’t do it anymore.” Then you close it and just lay it aside. We are now doing Olivia Wenzel and not the old stuff. That isn’t a revolution, it’s a normal process. In 2050 some material will simply not be staged anymore. Just like how we no longer play every popular hit from 1952 nowadays. There will be outrage and attempts to deconstruct and peel away why this is problematic, but at some point, certain things will simply not take place anymore. I am convinced of that. PO: Yes, I often use the term canon revision, for example. By that I simply mean that we have to create other moments of recognition for a diverse younger generation, in order to shape the cultural landscape of the future more attractively for a diverse audience and diverse personnel. What is actually important here is acceptance into the “mainstream” of so-called high culture, and not the typical flight into subculture. New Germans must not simply be exploited for a seemingly cosmopolitan image of diversity. That is tokenism at its best. Only if I am allowed to artistically develop an aesthetic and styles composed of various readings, only then am I in an inclusive cultural landscape. ES: It cannot work if you have people sitting in certain roles saying: “Ah, this Indian dance, we’ll take that into our closed idea of high culture because it is good. And the saz player, we’ll take them in too. But not the other things.” The white norm in terms of what high culture even is must be knocked off its pedestal. The good news is: it’s already wobbling. The broken parts will be reclassified, and then we will need to consider on what basis they should be reassembled and how we want to deal with terms like “quality”. PO: Apropos quality, I recently read an article in the NZZ – a reaction to the demand for a diverse, non-heteronormative selection committee for the appointment of the next theatre manager in Cologne. Despite all my attempts to stay optimistic, it disillusioned me a bit. The author ended their article by saying that it should all be about theatre Route 3 We Don’t Need Any More Guidelines! 225 competence. This questioning of quality is simply tedious. To be honest, it is the most perfidious attempt to secure privileges. This is what women were confronted with when they laid claim to men’s jobs. It just shows the desperation with which some critics will fight for the conservation of the old status quo. If we talk about the ideal institution in front of this backdrop, I think this resistance will no longer play a role in 2050, for one reason in particular. Not because we have resolved all these conflicts, but mainly for economic reasons. Due to demographics, the cultural institutions are losing their core audience, which they are sadly still more worried about than the visitors they aren’t reaching. And this fact will force them to change in the end. Privileges and class consciousness ES: The structuring of personnel makes the decisive difference for change in the cultural field. The question is where you position yourself and how you deal critically with your own blank spots. Do you know about the perspectives that you don’t bring with you? In my experience, sustainable change in institutions only happens collectively, not alone. PO: In order to really implement these perspectives, which are underrepresented thus far, in the structures of the cultural sector, we must recognise that a diversity-sensitive opening up of institutions cannot work if it assumes privileges all the way from education to the relevant job. We need accompanying grants and mentoring for these professions, where the payment, especially at the beginning, leaves much to be desired. When we talk about art and culture or also media, then we must also talk about who can afford to work in these careers, and who has the resilient networks. And there it is: the question of class. Wouldn’t art be so much more exciting if it was genuinely remoulded in terms of the players who are allowed to participate? ES: If we look at the conditions of access to the field of art and culture, we cannot avoid regarding class and economic access too, just as we did in our discussion now. Again, an approach critical of power or discrimination can only be intersectional in multi-perspectival teams. These teams are not present in important places, especially where decisions are made. Good practices, or: What can we learn from history? ES: If I, for example, look at the history of ZAK, I think that the state of NRW didn’t cope well with the balancing act between funding and supporting cultural institutions and the criticism of this by an institution Route 3 Prasanna Oommen & Ella Steinmann in conversation with Aurora Rodonò 226 funded at state level. I view many things about ZAK critically. But the more I think about it, the less I understand why the state cut the funding. Looking at nationwide developments, I have very little understanding for it. PO: What is interesting is that there was hardly any protest. That has a lot to do with the dependencies and conflicts of interest within the funding landscape and its power structures. If we take the 360° programme, it is a real shame that ZAK’s work was interrupted precisely at the moment that the federal government started a new programme with the same aims in 2018. Instead of the state of NRW taking the opportunity to become an example of good practice for federal projects, it decided to take a backwards role – perhaps also because the urgency on the part of ZAK was not presented clearly enough. The German Federal Cultural Foundation cutting off a programme like that sends such a strong signal – compatible collaboration between federal government and states would have been useful and necessary. If we now look at the situation on the commune level, then it is already failing to implement diversity-sensitive basics such as the gender star3 – due to things being blocked by the city administration. Now I can hear the outcry again (laughs). Yes people, a symbol like a gender star is important too! It really is about questions like this. The 360° agents and their communication management sit in our seminars and ask: “How do I convince the city’s press office? How can I write in a diversity-sensitive way without them crossing it out again?” ES: In that respect, this process of change in institutions is a process of professionalisation on all levels. And that is – as we said – a very long process, because I can try to change my own institution, but it is still embedded in the system around it, in the system of cultural politics, the commune, the funding. And I cannot influence that as an agent or protagonist in the cultural institution. PO: In regards to the gender star, this means, in a very practical sense, that the city administration must also be supported and sensitised in the work of opening up; you can’t just present them with the discourse, which not everyone is aware of, as a fait accompli, right? ES: Yes, and that is exactly where the work must continue: the cultural politics of a commune is involved in deciding whether production funds can be rededicated as transformation funds and how many premieres there are to be in a year. The critical scrutiny of your own institution soon reaches its limits. PO: Exactly. What we also have to look at are the classical career Route 3 We Don’t Need Any More Guidelines! 227 paths of museum directors or theatre managers, who also suffer under constant production pressure. In the ideal institution in 2050, how many shows there are in a season or how many famous purchases are made will perhaps no longer be relevant. Those are currently the automatisms in the systems and that means that the people, who it is ultimately about, the decision makers, do not concentrate on the diversification process or look at those who are not currently part of their audience, but rather strengthen their so-called unique selling point in terms of content. Supportive training, supervision and evaluation that is truly effective and utilised positively instead of simply disappearing into some drawer could all change our cultural landscape sustainably. Outlook and visions PO: Firstly, in the institution of the future, differences in earnings do not drift apart so flagrantly. Secondly, management positions are temporally limited. Thirdly, there is a duty of transparency and information within the institution. And fourthly, criteria like the women’s quota, the diversity quota – generational diversity, people with impairments – are securely anchored in the institution. And we have a basic income. Yes, I admit that I hope that we have a universal basic income by 2050. ES: In the institution of the future there are a series of people who have a say in decisions on the boards, there are regular evaluations, the power to make decisions does not lie with one person. The management of the institution is, above all, a coordination role. The institution is run by a small team. There is also top sharing. Also, the knowledge to challenge discrimination is mediated during the onboarding process, in order to generate basic awareness. It is also normal for anti-discrimination processes to be constantly reassessed. There is mentoring and peer consultancy. PO: When we talk about the ideal world, then white and diverse people are equally engaged and also work on the same themes together. But the prerequisite for that is total awareness on all sides that exclusion will remain an issue. That is why the onboarding that Ella mentioned is a central and important demand. A code of conduct, which states the self-image of the institution, is part of such an onboarding process. It would be good in the “ideal world” if the main programme integrated the expertise of social and sociocultural initiatives, who have lots of relevant field competence, within regular operation. The cultural institution of the future must simply pose itself the question of permeability. And funding institutions must demand rigorous answers to this question and Route 3 Prasanna Oommen & Ella Steinmann in conversation with Aurora Rodonò 228 support this through their instruments. ES: Everyone working in the institution, whether they are a white person, a Black person, or a person of colour, is aware of their positioning. Texts for tenders are written in such a way that everyone who applies knows about the regular training and the critical perspective. There must be a readiness to engage with that. It would be better if these things were not dependent on the personal engagement of individual managers, but were simply expected. PO: The praxis of filling management positions in pairs would fulfil this wish: there is content management, and then there is organisational management. It must of course be clear that this management team has to “survive” onboarding together. As all three of us know, you can’t put this together randomly. The ability to work together must be ensured, like preparing for marriage (laughs). Another criterium must be, by the way, to ensure the speaking skills of all team members. Demands for radical anti-discrimination change ES: This process of change must be taken seriously. We cannot only make demands of cultural institutions, they must also be equipped with resources. This includes money and time. PO: Another demand would be the recognition of knowledge. Which knowledge do we really need? I would demand that vehemently from politics. Which knowledge is relevant? Which knowledge is important for the continuation of a cultural institution in our post-migrant society? ES: My demand would definitely also be to simply satisfy the legal foundations that are already there. Whether that is the UN conventions on inclusion or anti-racism or German anti-discrimination laws. To take what must already be complied with seriously enough, so that it is actually implemented – that would be a big step. Closing remarks ES & PO: And we don’t need any more guidelines. This knowledge has been available for long enough. We need to take action! Outlook By 2050 the question of diversity will have become largely superfluous. Urban society and self-organised migrant groups will have changed. BIPOC groups, in which Black people and people of colour gathered, will now be really old. They will meet and spin yarns about the olden days. Route 3 We Don’t Need Any More Guidelines! 229 1 The German Federal Cultural Foundation’s programme 360° – Fonds für Kulturen der neuen Stadtgesellschaft (Fund for Cultures of New Urban Society) supports 39 art and cultural institutions nationwide for a duration of four years to open up in a diversity-sensitive way. See https://www.360fonds.de (05.03.2021) 2 Zukunftsakademie NRW (ZAK NRW) was a centre for diversity in art, culture and cultural education in Bochum from 2013 to 2019. Its offerings helped cultural institutions open up for more diversity and participation. 3 A typographic style used in gender neutral language in German, e.g. Künstler*innen. Route 3 In conversation: Ayşe Kalmaz, Alican Tazegül 230 Whenever we touch on the future, the past coബes up AYŞE KALMAZ ON HER WORK ON THE WEB SERIES EMSCHERWOOD: DAS WUNDER VON LOHBERG AND THE THIRD SPACE Ayşe Kalmaz grew up in Dortmund. She works as a freelance filmmaker with a focus on documentaries. She has realised a number of participatory art and film projects over many years in collaboration with various agents, initiatives, and institutions. She is currently involved – in interdisciplinary constellations – in practical artistic research on the Third Space. Alican Tazegül was born and grew up in Dinslaken-Lohberg. He was one of the actors and co-authors of the web series Das Wunder von Lohberg. He was a footballer and martial artist for many years and began working as a volunteer instructor for children at King’s Sport club in Lohberg after an injury. He also made a bit of a stir as an amateur rapper. He is currently training to be a geriatric nurse. Route 2 Whenever we touch on the future, the past comes up 231 Johanna-Yasirra Kluhs (JYK): I am really pleased to have the chance to talk to you today! What was your role in the project Das Wunder von Lohberg? Ayşe Kalmaz (AK): I was approached by Parkwerk e.V., who had somehow heard about me. They planned a mini film festival with young people, and one of my documentary films was shown as part of that. We did a film workshop with the youths, where we first tried out different technical tools and narrative forms and then filmed a short action episode. The discussions that took place parallel to the film workshop – in which I found out how this neighbourhood works, what people’s hopes and problems here are, as well as the structural problems – were exciting. And at some point, the idea of making a large-format piece came out of that. JYK: The decision that it should be a series: why did you choose that format? AK: Dinslaken-Lohberg is a very special place, a microcosmos. All kinds of cultural backgrounds, political positions and so on are gathered there in a condensed form. The sports club King’s Sport took over the local production management. With the support of Mesut Yildirim, Orhan Dilmac, and Alican Tazegül especially, as well as many other helping hands, we spoke to all kinds of clubs, to all of the kids we could reach, older people, young people, Syrian people, Turkish, Kurdish, Alevis and many others, and realised it is so multi-layered, so multidimensional here that we can only really take it up in the form of a series with different elements and storylines, in which anyone who really wants to appear in it with their issues can do their work. While some thought a science-fiction episode would be good, others preferred it to take place in the past. And then there are documentary things, report-like elements and concepts. JYK: You have spoken a lot about “we” – who is that? AK: I very often speak in “we” when it’s about projects, because it is always collective work. “We” is Lohberg and I. Everyone who was involved. It’s Parkwerk. It’s King’s Sport. It is the Kinderschutzbund (child protection agency). It is of course our team of artists, the actors, our great dramaturge Jost Krüger, who gave us such wonderful inspiration and helped a lot in the writing of the dialogues. He is a Stanislaw Lem fan by the way. So yes: we, the Emscherwood collective. JYK: The way I understand it is that you said: “We transfer all of our speech into the future in order to be able to speak more realistically.” And when you look at the trailer it becomes apparent that a lot is spoken about the past in this future. AK: Basically, a repetition of the past always takes place unless we take brave steps, at least in art, to create a certain distance to current conflicts and possibly make things visible that we can’t see now. There Route 2 In conversation: Ayşe Kalmaz, Alican Tazegül 232 was this inspiration from some youths to work in a science-fiction way and the desire to be seen outside of this whole stereotypical point of view. So not as the post-migrant youth or the Lohberger, who is most likely a criminal. To show an identity or an aspiration or a longing in life that takes place beyond that. I think trying to free themselves from such constraints is currently one of the struggles of the younger generation. Firstly mentally, but then also very practically. Because what society burdens you with is quite heavy. So, to stand up and to say: “Hey sorry, people, I actually need to sort out climate change and my generation has lots of global questions to take care of and you’re still going on about being post-migrant.” JYK: Your trailers are very professionally made. Clean production, very clearly curated soundtracks, which are reminiscent of mainstream cinema. Why was it so important to you to manifest this professionalism? AK: When we make productions like this we shouldn’t confirm the cliché of participatory projects with people with migratory backgrounds: they are cheaply produced and then you have an event and applaud the whole thing and say: “Well done, you did great you post-migrants.” And to our sponsors: “Yes, great, we did participatory projects, so cough up money for the next project.” It is a machine, in which projects often take place with little precision and little professionalism, because certain institutions or associations just want to secure their existence in the funding scene. But the people who participate in it, who want to express themselves artistically, or who want to find a voice with their issues, aren’t so important anymore. We thought that if we do it, it should be something that is not ranked lower than the work that other people do with very different budgets. It is clear to me that such a production under normal conditions, We want to break something with this professionalism, with this high aspiration. Das Wunder von Lohberg is a pilot project for a web series that celebrated its premiere in 2019. In it, the district of Dinslaken-Lohberg becomes the film city of Emscherwood and the base station for a journey through the history of cultural changes in Germany. In cooperation with Parkwerk e.V. and King’s Sport, a group of youths, including Alican Tazegül, filmmaker Ayşe Kalmaz, screenwriter Jost Krüger, and numerous residents in the neighbourhood, developed the content and aesthetic of the project together. The project was supported by Förderfonds Interkultur Ruhr. Route 2 Whenever we touch on the future, the past comes up 233 with a television station, would have cost ten times as much. We want to break something with this professionalism, with this high aspiration. It has something to do with a seriousness, also with a respect for the work of all the people from the neighbourhood. There must have been over one hundred people who lent a hand. Highly professional people worked on it, almost free of charge. The editor Rudi Heinen for example, who otherwise edits films by Professor Adolf Winkelmann. People like that helped us. We can’t continue this with the funding pool budget. We would have liked to have continued this series with normal funds from public service broadcasters. We said: “Look, we want to make a long-term format out of it.” But it didn’t fit within the framework. They didn’t reject it blatantly, just said: “Yes, then submit it via the normal application channels.” We did that and then nothing came back. Perhaps the project can be picked up again, coupled with other tandem productions. That would be my hope. So far, Das Wunder von Lohberg was too far outside the mainstream “post-migrant production” approaches. JYK: Perhaps you were also a bit ahead of your time. In the meantime, things have changed a bit. I think for example of the production company that has been founded, Jünglinge, which really caused a furore with Futur 3. Would you actually say that what you did is intercultural work? AK: I hate this word. What the hell is intercultural work? JYK: On one hand, the assured representation of a post-migrant society, which doesn’t thematise itself as that to start with, but creates forums and formats in which they then appear. This, in turn, is accompanied by an immense voluntary dedication. For Das Wunder von Lohberg to have been recognised as a “normal project”, would it have to have been white-dominated or have been set somewhere else? That is quite typical for intercultural work. AK: Ah, you mean Minderressourcedheit (minority resourced-ness)! Yes, then what we do here is definitely intercultural work. Intercultural work could also mean that we have communication spaces in which different cultural imprints have a chance to communicate with each other and perhaps also to create something mutual. That doesn’t take place enough in my opinion. I think that Emscherwood: Das Wunder von Lohberg tried to tell exactly that in many storylines with a view from the future: there is this potential and I look at the here and now from that point. Many things emerged from our truth chair on the market square, where people could just talk about their prejudices, about what really pisses them off, or about what they really think about others: all this anger and disappointment, hope and so on. Some spoke about love and others got angry about the media, who make Lohberg out to be a Salafist stronghold. And the woman with the rolling pin got angry about the fact that although she has Route 2 In conversation: Ayşe Kalmaz, Alican Tazegül 234 lived in Germany for who knows how many generations, she is still not seen as a recognised citizen and is still discriminated against and experiences racism. Those are truths. We can’t dress it up. To express all of this and to listen to everything that is in you, all the crap too, in order to serve that up to each other in the free, fictional space that art can offer and to engage with it – that is a good form of intercultural work for me. Alican Tazegül: Respect I immediately had the same feeling as back then. To see how many people were involved. Older people, younger ones, from many countries, neighbours who I recognise or meet at the mosque. To hear their story like that, officially, not behind closed doors: the Gastarbeiter topic. Money and how they got here. How they saw all of that. If you watch it again, you think: insane! That you can feel comfortable among thousands of different cultures. I know my neighbourhood. I was born here, I grew up here. Now there’s the Corona pandemic. I just see people outside with face masks and gloves, especially Turkish people, because they are really worried. For me, this film had the impact that people saw officially: “Wow! Ok, that’s Lohberg.” Before then, people had painted a picture and had many prejudices: “Hey, for God’s sake, how are you going to make a film about Lohberg? They’re good for nothing. What do they have to say?” We had already shot a film beforehand, Lohberg 46, which was also with Ayşe Abla. We tried things out, just youths, just us, came up with something completely fictional. But Das Wunder von Lohberg was simply unfiltered. Comedy, science-fiction, and sad scenes, too. It should show the outside world how we see Lohberg. The mayor also watched it and lots of other people – it was a big audience. They were all happy that a number of youths managed to put something together that presented something authentic and nice about Lohberg for once. Served up to them. We got on the stage after the film. Everyone applauded. Sure, some acting scenes weren’t exactly the best. People stuttered, were nervous in front of the camera and this and that. But now, after a couple of years, I can say I still stand behind it. We spoke about problems that were important to us. But also the nice things. It really gave you a kick. What I wished for back then was that it had more of a Route 2 Whenever we touch on the future, the past comes up 235 reach. Anyone can post on YouTube, but television would have been my goal. The prejudices were so large, the film should have been that big too. We were many people, many youths, standing in front of the camera, behind the camera, standing in the rain. People don’t see that. Yes, we made a film that turned out the way we wanted it to. Even better in fact. I think the perspective should be widened again today. Taking children and youths with you: look, what are their concerns? There must be many young people here who have the passion to stand in front of the camera. To say what’s close to their heart. Sure, with help and tips from our professional film director Ayşe Abla. I know, for example, that we have a couple of lads here who have a big dream, but don’t get the funding. I would come and give support from start to finish. If I see people want to make something happen then I would also take part. I think a lot about the world: neighbours, people I live with, people I meet at the supermarket and say hello to. And I think we just need more funding for our children so that young people don’t get into so much trouble. Just imagine you come from a neighbourhood like this, that people only think and talk negatively about, because of a couple of media appearances. Then you’d be thinking: why have I been thrown into this? What’s it got to do with me? And then a handful of people come and say: “Hey, let’s stand up, let’s do some straight talking.” Never mind Salafism. People, teachers just pigeonhole Lohberg: “Little Istanbul, ciao, you won’t do anything with your life!” The teachers in my comprehensive school had many, many prejudices. We drank our cocoa with the lads at break time: “No Bosporus!” Things like that all the time. Through this film some people have seen: “Ok, Lohberg – my pupil made a film? I’ll have to check that out.” I found it insane that even people like that, who I have often argued with, that they come and say: “Respect, wow, I am impressed. Please make a homepage for our school.” Even today, after two or three years. I’ll never forget that. That it also reaches someone like that. It wasn’t just Ayşe coming and getting out her camera – we got together, heard different voices, different age groups. She comes in with her experience. And the younger ones say: “Hey, I can make something happen. I might be still young, but it doesn’t matter.” That increases their motivation and will to make something happen. Route 2 In conversation: Ayşe Kalmaz, Alican Tazegül 236 You know yourself what’s going on in the world: racism, many prejudices against people from other countries. This film was a couple of years ago and we made public exactly what was on our minds. Still seems like a crazy move today. To say: “No matter whether you are called Hassan or Kursowski, we are all one neighbourhood. If you are hungry, then I will come.” JJYK: Did you have any public screenings? AK: So the hall was jam-packed at the premiere. We even had to leave some people outside. A film like that should trigger discussions. Positions were adopted and people attacked each other, which was good. But I must be critical: the German community there did not see itself as part of it. The artist community in Lohberg, people who are also in the independent theatre and the whole Waldorf community – they were of course completely up for it. But the rest preferred to stay away. Even though we tried a lot. During filming, too. But the first screening was a really nice evening! I don’t really like this hackneyed word “empowerment”. But I think that such work leads to the people who are involved getting recognition for what they are. That doesn’t happen enough. There is also an episode in which the kids talk about discrimination at school. That’s the reality. And that has very real, hard consequences for their lives. To be invalidated due to certain circumstances that the kids can do nothing about. That is straightened out a bit at the point at which you can talk about themes on an equal footing, because you did some artistic work on it. Then the mayor has to take you seriously. He has no other choice. Also, because the media is there and because it is visible and you can publish it. No one can just step out of the discourse. JYK: I would like to go back to the years 2015/16, because this time is strongly linked with the Interkultur Ruhr support fund, from which your project was funded. The fund was established in response to the enhanced effects on the Ruhr region of the global movement of refugees. You picked up on that in the series under the heading “migration” and you looked back on it from the future. The situation made big waves in the media and in terms of the atmosphere, because it became clear that this global issue of political migration also affects this region. How do you act here with this space and also with these resources that are available? AK: Unfortunately, I must say with great disappointment that sadly nothing has changed in the direction I was hoping for. Firstly, as a human, and secondly, as an artist or cultural creator. I have observed that, through many fears, through many global crises into which we are now blundering and will blunder into again in the future, fluidity decreases. Route 2 Whenever we touch on the future, the past comes up 237 When people are afraid, they cling onto structures or identities or onto what they know. That is a completely normal reaction, but it doesn’t make it easier to negotiate new forms of culture together. Why should people voluntarily give up a privileged position? Sure, there are people who have somehow achieved this level for themselves and act and speak and see very differently – but there’s a limit even with them. As soon as it is about their own way of life, it stops. Thinking global has a price. In order to pay it, you have to be really brave. You have to give up the things that you own, including the images of yourself you carry around with you. I think that we also have to integrate the history here in Germany, just like everywhere else, into these questions. JYK: I would like to take a look back at 2015, when you could feel a big wave of benevolence – I wouldn’t call it solidarity – suddenly switch into anger. AK: I was working on a documentary film and was with my colleague Marcel Kolvenbach in Istanbul and in Greece in 2015. When those people fleeing were attacked with water cannons on the Macedonian border – we were there and filmed there one day later. Then there was somehow a collective leap. Suddenly people in Germany said: “We stand together now. Through our humanity. Beyond all borders. Enough is enough.” That was an amazing flash of our potential as humans. This flash is very hard to sustain when it touches on our own resources and existential fears. That is a trigger, as people traumatised by war come and then trauma confronts trauma here. Those traumatised by war are taken into a collective consciousness that hasn’t yet completely healed its own wounds. And then everything boils up. In my opinion, the AfD is a symptom of that. People are suddenly confronted with everything that they had cleverly managed to freeze away over the decades, because the meaning of war and its consequences are unbearable. What can we do? What kind of initiatives and projects can continue to create new spaces beyond this, or at least show exactly what is happening? JYK: Interkultur Ruhr has worked for a few years with the story of Pangaea. We think it’s a very good metaphor in order to take another look at now, here in the Ruhr region. We assert: isn’t this already a Pangaea Ultima? What is it like to live with each other here? What can you, as a member of the Emscherwood vision team, reveal about the future? AK: If you ask me, picking up on the desires of Lohberg citizens and Then the mayor has to take you seriously. He has no other choice. Route 2 In conversation: Ayşe Kalmaz, Alican Tazegül 238 also young and old people, as well as all the other perspectives that I encounter in my work, then I see the importance of researching this Third Space more and more. Also, researching Pangaea – as a thought space, an emotional space, a truth space. And the importance of also creating artistic forms there. The wish is to expand the whole thing into a scholarship programme for young artists from different communities in collaboration with professional artists who experiment with cyber art and so on. The wish is to anchor the work very far in the future. Also, to sound out the dead ends and the places you can’t reach, and the things you can’t talk about, that you can’t feel yet, that you can’t think yet. And it’s important to stay down to earth nevertheless. We could of course get together with lots of out-there artists and be in the Third Space constantly. But that isn’t people’s reality. Not here in Germany and in the Ruhr region. To not only cultivate horizontal transculture, but also to work vertically. There was the beginning of that with Lohberg and Emscherwood. Whenever we touch the future, the past comes up. Then you are sitting there, doing transculture and the Third Space, and then the whole colonial history stands up to be counted too, for example. We are not free of that. We are constantly looking through it. And we need to become transparent with that too. When two people from different cultural spaces encounter each other, then not only do these two beings meet, but whole cultural histories meet. And the view I cultivate of you, a privileged German woman who has access to resources that I don’t have, all of that is in the room too. And I think when we start to work in a truth-oriented and artistic way with precisely these voices, then it is perhaps also possible, at some point, to have these cultural layers of identity and past structures emerge very openly and multi-dimensionally. On the stage, in a film, or wherever. I would be interested to see what remains of us then. How do we talk then? We become ever more naked and can recognise our own multi-dimensionality in that. So, while we sit here, my grandparents are also sitting with us in this space. And yours too. Figuratively speaking. And they have something to say about how we communicate with each other here. Often, we refuse to believe it and then it all takes on its own momentum. But if we talk about Pangaea, or the Third Space, then we can’t ignore what is basically always involved in defining our communication space. Thinking global has a price. Route 2 In conversation: Tareq Alaows 240 We saw ou۴selves as parॊ of the solution TAREQ ALAOWS / REFUGEE STRIKE BOCHUM ON SELF-ORGANISATION, PUBLIC SPIRIT AND CULTURE ▒▓░╟p.299 ‫▒▓░╣ترجمة‬ Tareq Alaows studied law in Syria. In Germany he has provided legal advice to refugees for five years. He co-founded Refugee Strike Bochum in the summer of 2015. His continued engagement in activism led to him becoming a speaker and coordinator at the Seebrücke initiative. He also worked as an advisor for Medizinische Flüchtlingshilfe Bochum. He currently works as the head of the prevention and crisis management department of S27 – Kunst und Bildung in Berlin and recently began on the path towards becoming a career politician. Refugee Strike Bochum was a self-organised group that was actively involved in the fight for fundamental rights and political co-determination for refugees in Bochum until 2018. Some of their regional network events took place in collaboration with Interkultur Ruhr. Route 2 We saw ourselves as part of the solution Johanna-Yasirra Kluhs (JYK): Getting to know Refugee Strike in Bochum in 2016 was definitely a key moment in Interkultur Ruhr’s work. What do you remember about that time in the Ruhr region five years ago? Tareq Alaows (TA): Arrival, the initial feeling of being safe. And then, immediately, the disappointment of the living conditions. We saw laws that only existed on paper and were not being implemented. That triggered our resistance against these living conditions. That was the start of Refugee Strike. It was a group of people that were not connected by a shared language, that were not a homogenous group. At the start there were up to 250 people at the protest camp. Due to the challenges, the group was smaller in the end: there were five or six active people and ten in the Whatsapp group. JYK: Do you have any idea why that was? TA: Firstly, the bureaucratic and everyday effort of life here in Germany. The barriers and obstacles you have to overcome. Then there was the fact that the demands we had made were realised. And people had plenty to do in their everyday lives: asylum applications, integration courses, and so on. Then it was more the people interested in politics who stayed. And language was a big challenge. People noticed that I was centre stage a bit, due to my language skills, because I used to participate in the most 241 important meetings and so if anyone actually came with me, I had to translate the whole time and speak bilingually and so on. That somehow led to people moving away. Then a next generation came to Refugee Strike at the second protest camp in front of Bochum town hall. And there were still two or three people who stayed to the end. When Feras, Assad, Nabhan and I left the group, there was no one left to continue the work. We couldn’t pursue the idea of enabling people so that the group continued to function even when we were no longer there. The work was very intensive and none of us had the time to really build up the group, to reflect on what we did with the group now and again. Because all of our work was directed outwardly and not inwardly. JYK: The main demand was: out of collective accommodation, into individual flats! TA: The idea back then was not only to get the people out of our sports hall. The idea was a protest camp right in front of Bochum town hall, because people had to go there every day. There were around 25 people from our sports hall. But the rest, they were people who had appointments with the authorities and who saw that we were demanding something relevant to us all. Not just flats for the 25 people standing there. That’s why they joined us. We simply felt left behind. But where the authorities were concerned, no Route 2 In conversation: Tareq Alaows 242 one knew who was responsible, ed tents, and that was all quickly or whether anyone felt responsible mobilised and organised by the at all. There were many mistakes. people. These people said: we will We had the feeling at one point make sure that you are informed, that the city of Bochum didn’t know but the decisions come from your who lived where. Or how many side. We all understood our roles. people there were. So we startThat was my first encounter with ed to document that ourselves. such a grass-roots democratJYK: You said before that all ic form of self-organisation. of the demands were fulfilled, but the political work needed to continue. What did you We said that if the continue to work on then? city was overwhelmed, TA: The basic demands were then we could fulfilled: flats, asylum applications. But then it was about politicontribute our cal participation. About our rejecsolutions. tion of the integration concept as it was at that time. Our position was that the law was written in JYK: You injected the city offices by people who have absowith a really good energy. This lutely no contact with those affectrebelling, protesting, and deed and who don’t know their needs. manding a fair society also had We completely rejected it. It must a lightness and fun about it. How be about living together and incluimportant was that for you? sion. We don’t have to integrate TA: There were many things! one group into another. We saw That was the first Treffpunkt Asyl, ourselves as part of the solution where around 100 activists sat and not the problem. We said that in one room. It was interesting to if the city was overwhelmed, then see people in a city working in we could contribute our solutions. one area, but not having spoken JYK: I noticed at the time that to each other at all. The situation you had a wide circle of supporters. provided opportunities for enTA: That was very important for counter and networking between us, so we had information about the activists. And then there what was possible and what was were the culture enthusiasts, for not possible. Individuals as well example Bernd Vössing,1 who as organisations advised us back brought his drums and then we then. What our basic rights were drummed. So for me this was not here and what we could demand. only political action, but an enAlso about the infrastructure for the counter with Bochum society. JYK: Then there was, for examcamp: we had nothing. We needRoute 2 We saw ourselves as part of the solution ple, a whole series of parties at Die Trompete (a nightclub) with Meri Pecenkovic, the WorldBeatClub2! You also joined Seebrücke3 and spoke publicly, not just about local themes, but global themes, too. TA: My work now at Seebrücke is focused on Germany’s asylum and migration policy. There’s also a lot of lobbying on the Berlin state level. Because I have a legal background and have worked with these laws for five years, I have built up an expertise. With the advocacy I do for Seebrücke, I have noticed that when I talk to the politicians myself, what they dare to say and what they don’t say is very different to when white activists talk. I can achieve something else. Unfortunately, I am now leaving Seebrücke completely, so that the activism stays activist. I am running for office in North Rhein-Westphalia for the Bundestag.4 Because all my political work started there. JYK: How would you describe the current situation in Bochum? TA: Many cities in North Rhine-Westphalia declared themselves safe harbours. On the commune level, I see that for people who arrived in 2015, like me, everything is moving forward at the moment: many people work, many have their own flats. And then there is the issue of national and state laws. Those are the challenges – as well as themes that are deeply rooted in society, like racism and how that is dealt with. Or, for example, topics such as deportation and 243 so on. Even if the communes do not agree with it themselves, how much leeway do they have? They must present a precise number of deported people every year. And so they have to deport people. For me this was not only political action, but an encounter with Bochum society. JYK: Back then, there was a real mobilisation of activists between cities. This momentum was carried over from Bochum to Essen or Duisburg. TA: The transfer itself was easy, it was just about doing things with the people in other cities. What was difficult was establishing groups there. We just needed to find the right people, who were politically interested, and work with them so that they mobilised themselves in the end. The first answer I got from people was, “Ok, after five years of political activism and work in Syria, I need some time to settle in.” There were people in Duisburg, for example, who were active from the beginning Route 2 In conversation: Tareq Alaows 244 and have done a lot. Then there was an occasion that completely destroyed the group. There was a similar problem in Bochum. JYK: What do you think are the next steps in order to bring the pluralism on the street into the laws, into society, into people’s heads? TA: There are several crises in this society. One crisis is asylum and migration politics, and another one is the humanitarian crisis at the external borders. Climate crisis, social crisis. Without working on these crises together and presenting a holistic alternative concept for society, nothing will happen. Every group has its focus that they find most important. Self-organisation rarely works, apart from on certain occasions or for certain themes. JYK: When you say we must draw up a concept for an alternative society, which knowledge would you pick up on? TA: A very clear example is the people who are currently occupying Hambach Forest and saying, “Climate crisis, RWE must stop!” None of these people have ever made demands to end child poverty, which affects many places there. These two crises are not being linked together. Ok, I am demanding something for the climate. But what about the people who are currently experiencing a social crisis or facing one? I have to demand fundamental rights for them. These aren’t different struggles. It is one struggle. There are many attempts to form networks in Germany and to say that migration cannot be separated from the climate crisis. Even if it is not classified that way legally. According to Greenpeace, there will be 200 million refugees in 2040. I can’t do good politics or activism in the area of climate crisis or climate equality without taking the question of asylum and migration or the question of social justice into consideration too. Without working on these crises together and presenting a holistic alternative concept for society, nothing will happen. Even if these are large and comprehensive questions. But there are people working on that and I must take them along with me. JYK: So it is not only the thematic levels that need to unite, but also the communal, federal, national levels and our individual lives. Public spirit! That might mean that I cannot separate my Route 2 We saw ourselves as part of the solution personal welfare from the welfare of the collective. It is not enough to sit on your own in the Bundestag and have clever ideas. TA: True. 1 Bernd Vössing was subsequently involved in or initiated several other cultural events, for example an artistic contribution to the Seebrücke demonstration in 2018, which was cofinanced within the framework of the Förderfonds Interkultur Ruhr. 2 Mersiha Pecenkovic is the founder of the association WorldBeatClub Tanzen und Helfen e.V., which organises the Beats against Racism festival alongside many other events. 3 Seebrücke is an international movement sustained by various alliances and stakeholders in civil society, who campaign against the current European border policies and towards international freedom of movement for all people. 4 In April 2021, Tareq Alaows decided to withdraw his candidature after only a few weeks due to racist threats to himself and his family. Route 2 245 In conversation: Zekai Fenerci 246 "You ટet the te਼mpo" ▒▓░╟Çeviri, p. 296╣░▓▒ Pottporus e.V. advocates for the development and promotion of hip-hop culture in the Ruhr metropolis. Founded by Zekai Fenerci in Herne in 2007, the association is an umbrella for the Urban Art Festival, the hip-hop dance academy, and, for young people, Junge Pottporus, which gave rise to the Hip-Hop Youth Ensemble and HipYo!Festival. Fenerci realises successful national and international dance theatre productions with the urban dance company Renegade and brought dance back to the Schauspielhaus Bochum theatre between 2010 and 2017. Route 2 "You set the tempo" 247 Fabian Saavedra-Lara (FSL): Dear Zekai, what is the current situation like for you? Zekai Fenerci (ZF): It’s complicated. We have postponed lots of things. And of course, we hope that culture will start up again at some point. The current situation is a real danger to culture, but perhaps also a chance for all cultural initiatives to reflect and consider plans that were always on the agenda, but were never really formulated completely. FSL: And what kind of thoughts are those for you? ZF: One of the most important questions for me was always: why should people even consume art? What is this need for coming into contact with art? And of course, I can say: “Because I like music. Because I like to read or dance.” But nevertheless, I have always thought about what the real reason is for having culture around us in everyday life – no matter whether we are socially deprived or wealthy, intellectual or not. I think about that often, but have never had the time to really dig into it deeper. In our case, why hip-hop, for example? Why? Why is it that many people feel good when they come into contact with it? What is it about hip-hop that gives them a sense of safety? I would like to communicate this feeling to people and make them aware that it is the participants themselves that are driving culture forward. FSL: And have you found an answer for yourself, as to why art and culture are so important in the specific case of hip-hop? ZF: In terms of hip-hop culture, an important factor is definitely that migrants in particular are searching for an identity within it that they don’t get in Germany – whatever this may be. But outside their own mentality and culture, I think. Apart from that, they are always looking for an opportunity to reinvent themselves, and hip-hop can play a role in that. You don’t have to have a particular knowledge in order to be involved in the discussion. That gives a sense of freedom and also security – they are part of something, that they themselves, I think, can’t yet really identify, but nonetheless grow into. There is no inhibition in accessing hip-hop culture. The most simple and banal way in is just by liking it. Just like that: “Hey, that speaks to me, it touches me. Something happens to me when I listen.” I always strive to look at whether we might expect too much of each other, to be permanently new and better. Because we develop and also make demands of ourselves, we challenge ourselves with new ideas and new formats. I feel as if it sometimes demands too much of people. We demand too much of each other. And this tempo of new ideas and impulses, which we have prescribed for ourselves, but is also partially external, from the funding instruments, is not always sensible. In this era of Corona I have been thinking about why we Route 2 In conversation: Zekai Fenerci 248 insist that those who offer culture must constantly come up with something new. Why can’t we first continue to walk a path we have found together until the need for something new arises by itself? That happens, for example, if we provide courses for children and young people here. Initially, they are purely focused on hip-hop movements, and at some point, after a year or two, they say: “We’d now like to try out house or another style.” Then we do that and that works very well too – if they want something new themselves and it isn’t guided by us. I am currently thinking about that quite a lot, and it is also a task for us after Corona, to just tone down our own needs again. To simply get back to zero and say: “Okay. Let’s walk a new path together. You set the tempo. You decide when the experiment should grow and when it shouldn’t.” FSL: I find that really interesting. In general, there are concerns in various places in the independent scene, I think, that you actually need constant and long-term funding – not so much thinking in individual projects, but rather: what would funding measures that support an initiative over a longer period look like? ZF: Exactly. But perhaps one must also say that there are basic cultural offerings that first create access to culture, and an additional field in which experimentation is done. The visionaries, who carry out these experiments, need their own protected space, but the framework has to be clear, and they must be allowed to develop at their own pace. That is, I think, already in place in NRW, but not so clearly formed or positioned yet. And the funding jungle leaves people with hardly any space or time, and also permanently requires you to reorganise, reshape and rethink. It is complicated to see through all that. Many fund- I always strive to look at whether we might expect too much of each other, to be permanently new and better. ing bodies hardly see what kind of pressure people are forced to produce under. Cultural policy should focus on telling people to slow down. Perhaps we should do long-term funding instead, perhaps five-year funding. Five years – like a mayor. You apply, then you can work for five years, and afterwards you show what you have done. Perhaps in five years’ time you will Route 2 "You set the tempo" 249 have established self-sufficiency and can get by without funding after that. I think five years needs to be the minimum for a long-term funding framework for smaller and larger collectives in the cultural field, as well as for integration. FSL: I also think that this innovation rhetoric, this constant desire for something new, doesn’t really – or doesn’t always – work for the area of art and culture. Of course, Cultural policy should focus on telling people to slow down. new ideas also arise in art and culture, but it is different to business, for example, and this constant “putting yourself under pressure” is something that is internalised by many, because you want to survive. That’s a problem. There are various examples of how funding can function differently in the neighbouring regions – with advantages and disadvantages. There it is generally quite unusual to only give very short-term funding, because the whole bureaucracy and administrative expense behind it bears no relation to the funding sums. Ultimately, when you check everything very, very diligently, which is what has to be done with public monies, then you have a much greater cost on all sides, if you are only talking about very short-term projects. I would like to go back to your first remark and your statement on the topic of hip-hop. What I find so interesting is that it’s an aesthetic and a culture that has become totally commercialised and globalised on one hand, but on the other is also very political. A lot of that is about emancipation, about empowerment. Particularly in its genesis, it was also about a kind of counter-narrative; it was about telling stories from your own perspective, and in very different contexts. Hip-hop developed in the USA, but it is also present and important in very many other regional contexts, and it works as a vehicle for your own story, as you so strongly articulated it before. ZF: What we sadly have to criticise in Europe – and in Germany in particular – is that we haven’t learned to give the whole thing – like in so-called high culture – a structure. I criticise that time and again on certain platforms, when hip-hoppers from the scene meet or discuss things here. The background to that is that we don’t have our own access to funding, but also no organisational structures either. We try to build up these structures as Pottporus, but it’s very difficult to hold up something against commercialised hip-hop culture. It is simply very strong. And that’s why there is the underground, where many people make Route 2 In conversation: Zekai Fenerci 250 art and culture in small networks, in small groups, which also have a political expression or a political statement. But they don’t come into the foreground enough. Especially not in our cultural system, which is very difficult to access. That’s why we also ask: “Hey, okay, why is it like that?” – because there aren’t any special institutions or spaces that really open the door for the political debate that hip-hop once had as its founding principle. Hiphop culture is actually about simply saying: “Okay, no discrimination, no racism, no violence against each other and against minorities, no drugs, no suppression, no rightwing radicalism.” This scene is also very strong in Germany, but it doesn’t fit easily into, let’s say, the publicly funded cultural formats. That’s why we have been telling the funding bodies for years that we want to initiate an independent place for hip-hop culture here. A place like that would really mobilise the scene on its own initiative. But without support and funding from cultural policy we won’t manage to take this step. Such a place would be a huge cultural enrichment for the Ruhr region. FSL: We have worked at Interkultur Ruhr since 2016 and as we were developing this book, the political and sociopolitical dimensions of this year were also very present for us. Unfortunately, we have experienced some very terrible incidents, like the murders in Hanau and in Halle. There is a right-wing party in the Bundestag. But, on the other hand, we have also experienced lots of solidarity, which has also become visible in Germany, for example in the context of Black Lives Matter and other movements that have really created and increased a public awareness for what anti-racist struggles are, what decolonial struggles are. My last question to you is: what has changed for you and your work since 2016? ZF: What you are saying about this right-wing body of thought has become extreme. It is noticeable everywhere, including in NRW, In terms of hip-hop culture, an important factor is definitely that migrants in particular are searching for an identity within it that they don’t get in Germany. how socially acceptable this body of thought has become. It has become so normal in the meantime that you don’t even recognise it anymore, and that is sad. You know, you hear certain phrases that you don’t even react to any more. Because you think: “They’ve been indoctrinated with that.” Via the media, via politics, and via the media platforms online. It has Route 2 "You set the tempo" 251 become more banal, but in my opinion it’s very dangerous. There is also a silent danger behind it, as all of these people vote, and they might consider voting more right-wing if things should escalate. We must also look to Europe as a whole, as these conflicts are increasing very starkly. That’s exactly why I think your work is so important, because you try to make minorities culturally visible. Unfortunately, that is, of course, not intended for the masses, you know, it isn’t a mass-produced product, but it might be right and good like that. You concentrate very much on reaching certain groups and areas. And perhaps they will come out of their circles slowly, bit by bit, and manage to gain a voice in society. In that sense, the thing with WAZ (a regional newspaper) was very good. Many German colleagues at the Bahn (national rail company), where I work, are civil servants and have a WAZ subscription. They said to me: “Hey Zekai, what Pottporus does sounds interesting! I would never have thought. Tell me more about it, it concerns my son too.” You know, all of a sudden, a topic of conversation has evolved. And that’s why I thought it was important. I can only say: definitely continue and don’t let up, because there is, I think, definitely a small key to success in this. FSL: Dear Zekai, thank you very much for the discussion and all the best for the future! Route 2 ‫الترجمات‬ Çeviriler Μεταφράσεις Übersetzungen Prevodi Prijevodi Traduções Traducciones Traductions Translations Madhusree Dutta p.32 Call it by any name… from ‘Multikulti’ to ‘diversity’ Nenne es, wie du willst ... von „Multikulti“ zu „Diversität“ Von: Madhusree Dutta Übersetzung: Good & Cheap, Art Translators Madhusree Dutta ist Filmemacherin, Kuratorin und Autorin. Sie wurde in Jamshedpur, Indien geboren. Sie war Geschäftsführerin von Majlis, einem Zentrum für interdisziplinäre Kunstinitiativen, das 1990 in Mumbai gegründet wurde. Dort arbeitete sie intensiv an dokumentarischen Praktiken, Archivinitiativen und Solidaritätsnetzwerken für Künstler*innen. Seit 2018 ist sie künstlerische Leiterin der Akademie der Künste der Welt in Köln. Diese Institution wurde 2012 von der Stadt Köln mit dem Ziel gegründet, „die Potenziale einer interkulturellen Stadtgesellschaft durch die Aktivierung der Möglichkeiten von Kunst und öffentlichem Diskurs sichtbar zu machen.“ Während ihrer Zeit als Institutionsleiterin initiierte und förderte Madhusree zahlreiche lokale Geschichtsprojekte, um die Idee zu verbreiten, dass „das Lokale der Mikrokosmos des Interlokalen oder Interkulturellen ist“. Die Vorgabe zu diesem Essay ist, über Diversität im Zusammenhang mit meiner Beschäftigung mit dem Ruhrgebiet und meinen Erfahrungen als Leiterin einer Kunstinstitution in Köln von 2018 bis 2021 zu schreiben. Eine denkbar einfache Vorgabe, für deren Erfüllung es nur einer gewissen Aufpolierung meiner Feldnotizen bedurfte. Insbesondere seit gesetzliche Bestimmungen Menschen wie mich in Positionen mit gewisser Entscheidungsmacht und Richtlinienkompetenz innerhalb des Kulturbereichs stets daran erinnern, sich für Diversität einzusetzen. Jedes Jahr muss ich zahlreiche Fragebögen zu der Frage ausfüllen, wie meine Institution dem Ruf nach Diversität nachkommt. In diesem Text möchte ich das gewisse Unbehagen festhalten, das ich beim Ausfüllen dieser Pflichtfelder immer wieder empfinde. Dabei gehe ich auch auf bestimmte Sichtweisen der besonderen Geschichte der Region ein, ebenso wie auf meine eigenen Denkweisen, die eng mit meinen 253 Erfahrungen mit dem Leben in einem anderen Erdteil verknüpft sind. Das Wort „Diversität“ hat in diesem für Deutschland und speziell für das Ruhrgebiet besonderen Kontext in den letzten Jahrhunderten eine komplexe Entwicklung entlang unterschiedlicher Programme und Ideen durchlaufen. Diese reichen von der Akkumulation von Vermögen und Arbeitskraft aus der Ausbeutung von Kolonien über den zunehmenden Einkauf und Import von migrantischer industrieller Arbeitskraft in der Nachkriegszeit, den Ruf nach Internationalismus im Ostblock, das politische Schuldbewusstsein für Kolonisierung und Xenophobie und das Streben nach Integration in der Nachwendezeit bis zu der Vision eines globalisierten Markts im späten zwanzigsten Jahrhundert, zur Geflüchtetenfrage des einundzwanzigsten Jahrhunderts und so weiter. Der Frage nach dem Zusammenleben – oder, ganz pragmatisch, nach einem synchronisierten Leben innerhalb eines Staats- und Sozialsystems – hat man sich zu unterschiedlichen Zeiten mit unterschiedlichen Schlüsselwörtern genähert: Dekolonisation, Antirassismus, Multikulti, Diversität und so weiter. Bei dem Versuch, darüber zu schreiben, wurde mir zunehmend bewusst, dass es mehr darum gehen sollte, die Simultaneität von Kulturen in den Vordergrund zu rücken und nicht die Diversität von Kulturen. Anders gesagt: Es sollte mehr darum gehen, durch viele Arten des Übersetzens zusammenzutragen und zu streuen und nicht darum, nach außen zu wirken. Durch die Übung des Wirkens nach außen wird fast unweigerlich die Position einer Mitte festgelegt, als Ausgangspunkt, von dem die Reise zu den Rändern ausgehen muss. Auf eine gewisse Weise werden so die territorialen und hierarchischen Positionen von gelebten Praktiken formalisiert und fixiert: Wo bestimmte Menschen leben, ist die Mitte und somit etwas, das schon immer da war. Und der Ort, an dem sich bestimmte andere Menschen befinden, wird als Rand angesehen und somit als etwas, das erst später in der historischen Chronologie dazukam und assimiliert und aufgenommen werden muss. Dies gleicht den einstigen Konzepten und Kategorien in den Regionalwissenschaften wie „Ferner Osten“, „Mittlerer Osten“ und so weiter, die von der Nähe zu Europa bestimmt wurden und in der Folge zu universellen Maßstäben der Kartografie wurden. Dabei wird vollständig die Tatsache ignoriert, die Frantz Fa- Madhusree Dutta non so treffend in Die Verdammten dieser Erde (1961) formuliert hat: „Europa ist buchstäblich das Werk der Dritten Welt.“ In einem kleinen Abstecher von Fanons ursprünglichem Argument der Entmenschlichung der Kolonisierten möchte ich dieses Zitat in den Kontext meiner These einbinden, wie mannigfaltig und simultan die hiesigen Kulturen sind. Nicht-weiße, nicht-männliche, nicht-gentrifizierte, nicht-christliche, nicht als europäisch eingestufte Kulturen sind weder Ableger von Europa, noch sind sie ihm fremd. Sowohl die chronologischen als auch die territorialen Kennzeichnungen sind hier unzulänglich. Diese Komponenten haben in der Herausbildung des Orientierungssystems der Merkmale europäischer Kultur eine zentrale Rolle gespielt und werden als essenziell für die „westliche“ Modernität angesehen. Kurz, keine der gelebten Praktiken war je einfarbig, insbesondere im Falle von Westeuropa. Ein aufrichtiger Schritt in Richtung Dekolonisation kann daher nur durch die De-Strukturierung dessen erfolgen, was Europa als die Mitte oder das Selbst betrachtet. Der Spielraum dieses Essays ist jedoch der gegenwärtige Ruf nach Diversität und nicht die Geschichte der Kolonisierung und Territorialisierung. An diese Vorgabe werde ich mich also halten. Diese Einführung war aber nötig, um darzulegen, dass die Zielgruppen des Diversitätsrufs nicht als ein Haufen von Fremden und Eindringlingen behandelt werden sollten. In den letzten Jahrzehnten trat das Konzept des Multikulti auf den Plan, in den Fußstapfen des politischen Versprechens von Dekolonisation und kultureller Zusicherung post-kolonialer Artikulationen. Das Aufkommen der Kulturwissenschaften, in den 1970ern von Figuren wie Stuart Hall in den Vordergrund gerückt, wurde zu einer Art Prüfstein für den politischen Willen, die Existenz vielfältiger Kulturen anzuerkennen. Was die kulturellen Strategien angeht, war es das Aufkommen von Biennalen als Gegenstück zum Kunstmarkt, von lokal begrenzten Archivinitiativen als Gegenstück zur musealen Zurschaustellung kolonialer Besitztümer, von verschiedenen Gruppierungen und Infrastrukturen nach dem Prinzip der Commons als Gegenstück zur Privatisierung von Wissen, das Aufkommen von Übersetzungsinitiativen als Gegenstück zur Hegemonie der Einsprachigkeit und so weiter, das den Diskurs in die Praxis verlagerte. Gemeinhin 254 als marginalisiert geltende Praktiken haben – wenn auch begrenzt – an Sichtbarkeit gewonnen. Und schließlich hat der deutsche Staat in den letzten zehn Jahren einen Aufruf nach Diversität formuliert. Dieser Aufruf soll die Repräsentation von „marginalisierten Gemeinschaften“ in Institutionen, staatlich finanzierten Programmen und in der Verteilung von für die Kultur bestimmten Fördermitteln sicherstellen. Anders als die frei formulierte Multikulti-Kampagne ist der Ruf nach Diversität durch bestimmte Evaluationskriterien und einige Aktionspläne strukturiert. Unsere Institution, die Akademie der Künste der Welt, wurde 2012 unter derselben Prämisse gegründet, ebenso wie 2016 das Projekt Interkultur Ruhr, Herausgeber dieses Buches. Der Ruf nach Diversität ist in Nordrhein-Westfalen von besonderer Bedeutung aufgrund der gemischten Bevölkerung, die sich durch die aggressive Industrialisierung seit Mitte des achtzehnten Jahrhunderts, im Anschluss daran die gewaltsame Deindustrialisierung ab Ende des zwanzigsten Jahrhunderts und letztlich durch die Bemühungen zur Revitalisierung der Region durch Landumnutzung, Forschungseinrichtungen, Kulturindustrie und platform economy entwickelt hat. Die Region, die im letzten Jahrhundert für ihren Dreck, ihren Rauch, ihr verschmutztes Wasser, ihr kaserniertes Leben, ihren Fußball, ihre Arbeiter*innenkultur und ihre starke Gewerkschaftsbewegung beinahe im gleichen Maße gepriesen und geschmäht wurde, hat sich in ein Land der Parks, Wälder, Ateliers, Konzerthallen, Forschungslabore, Museen und Festivals verwandelt. Aber ein Großteil ihrer demografischen Zusammensetzung ist mehr oder weniger gleich geblieben: eine geschichtete Bevölkerung aus weißer deutscher Arbeiter*innenklasse, nicht-deutschen migrantischen Arbeitskräften und nicht-europäischen „Gastarbeiter*innen“. Diese ehemalige Industrieklasse ist im postindustriellen Szenario des einundzwanzigsten Jahrhunderts überflüssig geworden. Ich hege den Verdacht, dass die Assimilierungsfrage derzeit nicht etwa aufgrund ethnischer oder sprachlicher Ungleichheit dringlich geworden ist, sondern um deren Produktivität für neue Produktionsweisen wiederzubeleben. Der Einsatz gewisser „vermittelnder“ Personen und Einrichtungen ist gefragt, um diesen Übergang zu verwirklichen. Daher richtet sich der Aufruf nach Diversität nicht an Nicht-Deutsche in Deutschland, sondern vielmehr an eine be- Madhusree Dutta stimmte Kategorie von Deutschen im heutigen Deutschland. Mein Interesse am Ruhrgebiet geht meinem Engagement an der Akademie der Künste der Welt voraus. Mein künstlerisches und politisches Interesse gilt postindustriellen Kulturlandschaften. Ich bin in einer Industriestadt namens Jamshedpur in Indien aufgewachsen. Als eines der ersten Schwerindustrieunternehmen, das von einem einheimischen Unternehmer auf dem kolonialisierten Subkontinent gegründet wurde, zog es Menschen mit unterschiedlichsten ethnischen, religiösen und sprachlichen Hintergründen an – darunter meine Familie. Ein halbes Jahrhundert später hat mich meine Auseinandersetzung mit Lebensläufen in industriellen Siedlungen ins Ruhrgebiet geführt. Aber anders als meine Heimatstadt ist das Ruhrgebiet keine zentralisierte Industriestadt, sondern vielmehr die Ansammlung einer Vielzahl von kleinen und mittelgroßen Städten. Der Großteil dieser Städte entwickelte sich im Verlauf des neunzehnten und frühen zwanzigsten Jahrhunderts um eine bestimmte Fabrik, ein Bergwerk oder einige zusammenhängende Industrieanlagen herum. Anfangs waren der Tagesablauf, die Unterkünfte und das Unterhaltungsprogramm der Arbeiter*innen – kurz, ihr Territorium – von dem Unternehmen geprägt, für das sie arbeiteten: das Thyssen-Wohnviertel in Hattingen, das Krupp-Reich in Dortmund, alle Kohlebergwerke, aber auch die nahegelegene Fordsiedlung in Köln-Niehl und so weiter. Über diese Siedlungen verstreut gab es Kioske, sogenannte Trinkhallen, Biergärten, Freizeitzentren, Fußballplätze und so weiter, wo sich die Arbeiter nach ihren Schichten trafen. Es waren Zentren männlicher Bonhomie, der Erholung und des Klatschs sowie gelegentlich auch der Anbahnung von Gewerkschaftstätigkeiten. In der Regel kamen in diesen Einrichtungen Menschen einer bestimmten ethnischen Gruppe zusammen – zum Beispiel der türkischen, libanesischen, italienischen, griechischen oder polnischen. Dieses System hat sich sowohl für die migrantischen Arbeiter*innen als auch das Management bewährt. Es bedurfte keiner Diversitäts-Kampagnen, um die Produktivität dieser Menschen abzuschöpfen. Tatsächlich war es umso einfacher, die Arbeiter*innen zu managen, je mehr von ihnen innerhalb ihrer ethnisch basierten Siedlungen blieben. Zwar gab es beachtliche politische Bestrebungen, die Arbeiter*innen aus verschiedenen Ab- 255 teilungen einer einzigen Fabrik oder gar aus verschiedenen Fabriken mit gewerkschaftlicher Solidarität zu mobilisieren, aber die soziale und geografische Gliederung des Ruhrgebiets blieb weiterhin von fabrikzugehörigen Territorien und Gefühlen geprägt. So gab es die türkischen Arbeiter*innen in Duisburg oder die polnischen Arbeiter*innen in Bottrop, Herne und Bochum. Innerhalb des Radius’ ihrer eigenen Territorien befanden sie sich in der Mitte. Ihr Status gegenüber dem Nationalstaat war irrelevant. Aber heute, da es keine Fabriken und Bergwerke mehr gibt, die als Ankerpunkte fungieren könnten, haben all die verschiedenen Bevölkerungsgruppen mit ihren unterschiedlichen Sprachen, Religionen, Haar- und Hauttypen ihre Viertel verlassen und sind zu einer allgemeinen Masse verschmolzen. Und genau zu diesem Zeitpunkt wird nun die Frage nach Assimilation bedeutsam – fast sechzig Jahre, nachdem diese Phase des Imports von Industriearbeit begonnen hat. Diese Menschen, die als anders wahrgenommen und mit dem offiziellen Begriff PoC (People of Color) kategorisiert werden, sind weder Randmenschen, noch haben sie ihr Leben in Deutschland in einem Vakuum verbracht. Innerhalb ihrer Räume führten sie erfüllte Leben voller Angst, Erwartungen, Errungenschaften, Niederlagen und Kreativität. Ein Beispiel dafür ist Dergi/ Die Zeitschrift, die Zweimonatszeitschrift eines Duisburger Literaturkreises, die zwischen 1985 und 1993 in türkischer Sprache erschien1. Dergi dokumentierte Lebensläufe im Ruhrgebiet und ist daher als eine der Hauptquellen der lokalen Geschichte anzusehen. Es handelt sich nicht um eine vereinzelte Randerscheinung, sondern um einen zentralen Bestandteil des deutschen literarischen, wirtschaftlichen und politischen Vermächtnisses. Initiativen und Aktionen wie diese sind als solche anzuerkennen und nicht als von der „echten“ oder „urprünglichen“ deutschen Geschichte getrennte Praktiken anzusehen. Das zweite Themenfeld handelt von „anderer Urbanität“. Als Ballungsraum multiethnischer, multikultureller und mehrsprachiger industrieller Siedlungen, aber auch als kriegszerstörte Grenzregion hat sich im Ruhrgebiet eine besondere urbane Kultur entwickelt. Sie unterscheidet sich von der Urbanität von Städten, die Sitz politischer Macht und Zentren der Wissensakkumulation und somit in gewisser Weise Binnenland Madhusree Dutta sind – Städte wie Berlin, München oder Köln. Ein Anzeichen dieser anderen Urbanität sind die immer noch zahlreich anzutreffenden Lokale der leichten Unterhaltungskultur – TabledanceClubs, Tätowierstuben, Sonnenstudios, öffentliche Bäder, Shanty-Kinos und so weiter – und die zahllosen Geschichten über Straßenschlachten, die aus mehr oder weniger ehrenwerten Beweggründen geführt wurden. Nun, da die Region der Revitalisierung zustrebt und in eine gentrifiziertere Version von Urbanität hinübergleitet, macht sich in gewissen Nischen ein Gefühl der Überflüssigkeit und der Melancholie breit. Es bedarf eines anderen politischen Ansatzes, um dieser Melancholie entgegenzuwirken. Eine einheitliche bundesweite Vorgehensweise wird vermutlich nicht funktionieren. Und: Wenn Siedlungen und Menschen an den Rand gedrängt werden, dann werden sie zugleich homogenisiert/glattgezogen. Es wird allgemein angenommen, dass die Mitte aus vielen verschiedenen Schichten bestehe. Aber die Ränder seien schlicht monolithisch. Mich persönlich ärgert das außerordentlich, zumal ich aus einem Land (Indien) komme, in dem ein Sechstel der Weltbevölkerung lebt. Doch wenn Menschen wie ich als Künstler*innen Europa besuchen, sollen wir häufig unter Beweis stellen, wie „indisch“ unsere Arbeiten sind. Als ob bei einer Bevölkerungszahl von 1,3 Milliarden Menschen eine einzige Art des „Indischseins“ möglich wäre; als ob Arbeiten aus Indien zwingend „indisch“ anmuten müssten und nicht unter anderen Gesichtspunkten wie Weltanschauung, Form, Technologie und Vorstellungskraft bewertet werden könnten. Ränder befinden sich für gewöhnlich am Hang und müssen daher schmal und flach gehalten werden, um die Balance zu waren, während die Mitte die Tischplatte ist, auf der verschiedene Lebenswirklichkeiten vertikal geschichtet werden können. So sollen Kunstinstitutionen wie die unsere Gemeinschaften an den Rändern präsentieren: einzellige Opfer ohne allzu viele Widersprüche und innere Konflikte. Generische Veranstaltungen mit Namen wie „Arabisches Musikfestival“ oder „Mediterranes Foodfestival“ mögen die staatlichen Diversitäts-Protokolle erfüllen, zeitigen aber höchstwahrscheinlich auf keiner Seite Wirkung. Machtstrukturen sind eine Leiter, die sich immer wieder reproduziert, je weiter sich unsere Leben 256 nach außen ausdehnen – zuerst in der Familie, dann in der Gemeinschaft, in der Peergroup, im Land und schließlich in der Welt … Kunst hat den Auftrag, in all diesen Registern den Istzustand zu bekämpfen. Aber wenn sich die Institutionen, die mit Ressourcen und Sichtbarkeit ausgestattet sind, zu Mediatorinnen zwischen einer Gemeinschaft und der Allgemeinheit aufschwingen, produzieren sie letztendlich häufig selbst neue Istzustände. Gewisse herausgestellte und redegewandte Personen werden zu Star-Repräsentant*innen oder selbsternannten Beschützer*innen einer Gemeinschaft; sie besetzen somit die Position der Mitte, indem sie neue Ränder innerhalb der Gemeinschaft schaffen. Beispiele dafür sind der Kampf für sexuelle Freiheit und die Rechte von Transpersonen innerhalb der homonormativen Gesellschaft, der Widerstand gegen gewisse rechtsgerichtete nationalistische Tendenzen (insbesondere in Bezug auf das jeweilige Herkunftsland) innerhalb migrantischer Gemeinschaften oder der Klassenkonflikt zwischen denen, die sich bereits auf europäischem Territorium befinden und denen, die gerade versuchen, die Grenze zu überqueren – dies sind häufig auftretende Spannungen in jeder Nische des urbanen Lebens. Es sind inhärente Widersprüche, aber auch Zeichen der Pluralität und Ursache für den Ruf nach Intersektionalität. Diese Intersektionalitäten müssen anerkannt und sichtbar gemacht werden. Es ist ein komplexer Prozess, der differenzierte und manchmal äußerst aufreibende Verhandlungen erfordert. Einfacher wäre es, bestimmte brillante, schöne, wütende und redegewandte PoC-Einzelpersonen in den Vordergrund zu rücken, die eloquent die Opferkarte spielen und ein kathartisches Ventil für weiße Schuldgefühle darstellen können. Dieses Phänomen ist heute gut bekannt als die Kehrseite der Identitätspolitik. Ein Bekenntnis zu vielen Kulturen muss fortwährend durch komplexe und offene Prozesse zwischen all diesen Registern ausbalanciert werden. Es ist unwahrscheinlich, dass sich dieses Ziel durch die Erstellung von immer neuen Excel-Tabellen, in die der Anteil von PoC-Künstler*innen an einem Programm oder die Anzahl von PoC-Angestellten einer Institution eingetragen werden sollen, erreichen lässt. Ich plädiere für Simultaneität: viele zur gleichen Zeit an jedem Ort, gemeinsam, aber eigenständig, hartnäckige Übersetzungen in angewandte Sprachen und „Créolités“ – Regenbogen statt Marisa Álvarez, Virginia Novarin, Josué Partida Einfarbigkeit; zusammen leben statt assimiliert werden… 1 Die Literatur- und Kulturwissenschaftlerin Nesrin Tanç (eine der Herausgeber*innen dieses Buches) hat in akribischer Kleinstarbeit Ausgaben dieser Zeitschrift aus Privathaushalten und Sammlungen zusammengetragen. Weder in Deutschland noch in der Türkei hat sich je ein offizielles Archiv darum bemüht, sie zu sammeln und zu erhalten. In einer Ausstellung mit dem Namen Geister, Spuren, Echos: Arbeiten in Schichten, die von Eva Busch und Madhusree Dutta von 2020 bis 2021 kuratiert wurde, hat die Akademie der Künste der Welt Nesrin Tançs Sammlung und ihre Lesart des Phänomens, das Dergi bis zum heutigen Tag darstellt, präsentiert. 257 p.40 Can you imagine how much work it involves? Možeš li zamisliti koliko truda i rada stoji iza toga? U razgovoru: Amela Halilovic, Erwin Rosenfelder (Aktion – Leben und Lernen in Bosnien e.V.) Prevod: Alida Bremer Amela Halilović je prvo studirala germanistiku i psihologiju i radila je kao prevoditeljica. Sada radi s djecom i mladima kao psihoterapeutkinja u školskom i vanškolskom okruženju, a osim toga i kao referentica. Ona je autorica autobiografskog romana Sol suza (Das Salzder Tränen) i inicirala je osnivanje Udruženja Akcija – Živjeti i učiti u Bosni. Erwin Rosenfelder je do odlaska u penziju bio srednjoškolski nastavnik za njemački, engleski i sociologiju. On je osnivački član Udruženja Akcija – Živjeti i učiti u Bosni. Udruženje Akcija – Živjeti i učiti u Bosni (Aktion – Leben und Lernen in Bosnien.V.) osnovano je 2014. godine u Bottropu. Od tada se ono angažuje u njemačko-bosanskoj kulturnoj razmjeni i organizuje dobrotvornu podršku, kao i pomoć za samopomoć u samoj Bosni i Hercegovini. Tako su npr. u prošlosti organizovani transporti s osnovnim prehrambenim i higijenskim artiklima i ortopedskim pomagalima. U saradnji s mrežom Labdoo do sad je organizovano oko 500 kompjutera s pratećom opremom i stavljeno na raspolaganje sa svrhom pomoći pri obrazovanju. Dječji vrtići dobili su osnovnu opremu. 2018. godine ovo udruženje pokrenulo je filmski festival Bosnia-Herzegovina Looks Around, koji je zbog pandemije virusa korone 2020. održan u digitalnom prostoru, a tako će se vjerovatno održati i 2021. godine. Johanna-Yasirra Kluhs (JYK): Amela, šta je bila tvoja motivacija da osnuješ ovo udruženje u Bottropu? Amela Halilović (AH): Jedanput mi se obratila direktorica jedne škole iz mog rodnog mjesta u Bosni i Hercegovini: „Kod nas opet ne radi grijanje, djeca već tri mjeseca ne idu u školu. Ja ću otići pred Ministarstvo u Sarajevo, podignut ću tamo šator i ostat ću tamo dok ne pronađem nekoga ko će nam pomoći.“ I onda je još rekla: „Koliko te ja poznajem, ti ćeš nam sigurno pomoći.“ Za mene je to bio jasan apel. U to sam vrijeme dala jedan intervju u novini WAZ. Herbert Schröer, dobrotvor iz mjesta Castrop-Rauxel, pročitao je taj intervju i nazvao Marisa Álvarez, Virginia Novarin, Josué Partida me. U tom prvom razgovoru ja sam mu rekla: „Ako mi možeš pomoći da kupim grijanje za ovu školu, možemo zajedno raditi.“ A on je na to odgovorio: „Postoji jedna mogućnost, a to je da se osnuje jedno udruženje.“ Herbert i ja smo onda otišli do „Der Paritätische“1 i tu smo zajedno s gospođom Multmeier razmislili kako bismo mogli osnovati udruženje. Usput, jedan sprat niže, srela sam Erwina. I onda: „Jedan, dva, tri, četiri – u redu, a koliko ih moram imati?“ I eto tako se dogodilo da smo mi 24. novembra 2014. osnovali Aktion – Leben und Lernen in Bosnien / Akcija – Živjeti i učiti u Bosni. Erwin Rosenfelder (ER): Ja sam u isto vrijeme bio na istom mjestu, jer sam tražio novu orijentaciju, čime bih se mogao baviti kad odem u penziju. Prije toga sam pomagao djeci iz migrantskih familija, podučavao sam ih na nekoj vrsti dopunske nastave. Ali na tom području nije bilo finansija, ove su mjere trebale biti ukinute. Zato sam otišao u agenciju za posredovanje dobrotvornog rada, koja je smještena u istoj zgradi kao i „Der Paritätische“, i tamo sam jednostavno pitao: „Imam vremena i volje angažovati se za neku dobru stvar i osjećam i neku vrstu obaveze da budem i dalje aktivan u socijalnom području.“ I kad sam izašao kroz vrata sreo sam Amelu i Herberta i u najkraćem roku smo već bili usred razgovora. „Ja doduše ne znam montirati grijanje“, rekao sam na kraju, „ali siguran sam da znam voditi zapisnik u udruženju“. I tako sam se dakle pridružio ovom projektu. AH: Bilo je neophodno pronaći neko rješenje da bi ova djeca dobila mogućnost pohađanja škole – to je ranije bila moja škola. Naš je projekt realizovan. Mi smo sarađivali s Ministarstvom za privrednu saradnju iz Bonna i s Fondacijom za ljude u nevolji iz Castrop-Rauxela. Svi ti projektni papiri, ta papirologija je uvijek zahtjevna – godinu smo dana radili na tome. Bili smo tri puta u Bosni i na kraju je grijanje kupljeno. Mi smo sagradili i prostoriju za skladištenje briketa. Zahvaljujući ovom projektu razvili su se poslije njega i različiti novi projekti. ER: Da, nama je uskoro postalo jasno, kad smo počeli s radom u udruženju, da ne nedostaje samo grijanje, nego da postoji cijeli niz drugih problema. To se proteže od nedostatka osnovnih uslova za nastavu koja bi odgovarala zahtjevima današnjeg vremena, pa sve do akutnih iznenadnih problema, koji se pojave dok rješavaš neki drugi problem. Mi zamišlja- 258 mo da je jedan miroljubiv i razuman zajednički život u Evropi moguć, život pri kojem ljudi mogu bez egzistencijalnih nevolja organizovati svoju svakodnevnicu i pri tom imati pozitivnu perspektivu ispred sebe. To je veliki cilj, koji je moguće postići samo nizom malih, praktičnih koraka. Naravno, tako nešto se može pokrenuti samo kad se uključe mladi. Razmjena učenika je jedan dobar put za realizaciju takvih ideja. Srećom smo u Gustav-Heinemann-Realschule u Bottropu naišli na razumijevanje i zanimanje. Prvo su 2015. godine bosanska djeca došla ovamo, a onda smo 2016. mi putovali tamo. U nastavnom planu su bili uključeni zajednički projekti i osim toga organizovane su mnogobrojne slobodne aktivnosti. Uvijek se radilo o tome da se više nauči o onom drugom i da svi uče jedni od drugih. Jako brzo su sklopljena prijateljstva, pri rastancima su tekle suze. Ali onda se dogodila jedna tragična nesreća gdje je njemačka nastavnica zadužena za ovu saradnju smrtno stradala. U školi više nije bilo nikoga ko bi se tako intenzivno angažovao kao što je to ona radila. Nama je onda rečeno da se moramo strpjeti do 2018. godine. Mi smo se i dalje trudili i razmišljali smo: „Kako možemo nastaviti ono što je započeto?“ Spremnost s bosanske strane je bila u svakom slučaju prisutna. Međutim njemačke škole nisu iz različitih razloga mogle donijeti brzu odluku o nastavku projekta. I onda je u toj situaciji došla pandemija. AH: Mi smo i na temu „inkluzivne pedagogije“ organizovali nekoliko programskih događanja. Bosanski učitelji su mogli vidjeti kako se ovdje u školama radi s djecom koja imaju smetnje u razvoju. Ili na primjer u radionicama, gdje rade odrasli ljudi s posebnim potrebama. Na koji način ih mogu podržati, ako me moja država pri tom ne podržava? Koje mogućnosti imaju udruženja koje se bave ovim temama i koje podržavaju škole u Bosni? Što smo više na tome radili, to su se sve više širili vidici. Na obje strane. JYK: U Rurskoj oblasti postoji jedna prilično velika bosansko-hercegovačka dijaspora. Da li imate kontakt i s drugim inicijativama? ER: U našem udruženju nije samo predsjednica bosanskog porijekla, nego su se učlanili i drugi bosanski sugrađani, a koji naravno imaju kontakte s drugim ljudima koji ovdje žive, a porijeklom su iz Bosne i Hercegovine. AH: Osim toga: Što smo više informisali jav- Marisa Álvarez, Virginia Novarin, Josué Partida nost o našem radu, to se više organizacija i udruženja informisalo o nama i javilo nam se, pa je tako došlo do osnivanja mreže „Bosnienhilfe NRW“ („Pomoć za Bosnu pokrajine Sjeverna Rajna - Westfalija"). Nama bi bilo previše organizovati sve transporte pomoći. Jako je skupo angažovati špedicijsku firmu da preveze humanitarnu pomoć. I zato je naravno lijepo, ako se možemo uzajamno podržavati. Dugujemo veliku zahvalu svim udruženjima i fondacijama kao i Crvenom Križu iz Ahrweilera. ER: Trenutno je vrlo aktuelna situacija s izbjeglicama u Bosni. Već u decembru 2018. je situacija bila zaoštrena. Veliki broj izbjeglica je preko tzv. „Balkan route“ došao u Bosnu i zapeo tu, jer je Hrvatska svoje granice skroz zatvorila i hiljade izbjeglica kampuju u okolini Bihaća. U toj prilici je pokrenuta prva inicijativa da se ljudima tamo u prvom redu omogući preživljavanje. Tako smo zajedno s drugim organizacijama naše mreže sakupljali vreće za spavanje, vunene pokrivače, zimsku odjeću i zimsku obuću, pa je iz Bochuma jedan transport otišao u Bosnu. I jedan član našeg udruženja je putovao, da bi vidio kako se stvari na licu mjesta raspoređuju. Sad se situacija opet zaoštrila, jer je s bosanske strane raspušten jedan izbjeglički logor. Izbjeglice su trebale biti smještene u jednu kasarnu, ali se bosansko stanovništvo usprotivilo. EU je stavila na raspolaganje 80 miliona eura da bi se ove izbjeglice negdje smjestilo, ali novac je negdje nestao. AH: Dokle god tamo postoji korupcija, neće doći do poboljšanja. Ja sam lično bila tamo i stvar je jednostavno ta, da se ovi ljudi moraju sakrivati. Oni uvečer ili po noći idu na granicu, ali ih policija vraća nazad. Ali gdje ih vraća? Oni negdje moraju jesti. Oni moraju dobiti toplu odjeću. Oni moraju negdje spavati, ali svi su šatori pomaknuti. Da li smo mi tako tretirani, kad smo napustili naše kuće? Ne, nismo. Osim toga se stanovnici Bosne žale: „Kod nas nema posla, mi smo bez posla, a sad smo primili toliko puno ljudi. Kako naša zemlja može to sve izdržati?“ Dakle postoji puno strahova. Ali mi možemo nešto napraviti. Naša mreža je počela nabavljati sve što je tamo potrebno. Mi sad opet planiramo jedan zajednički transport. JYK: Bosna i Njemačka imaju dodirne tačke i to ne samo zato što ovdje u Njemačkoj žive ljudi, koji su porijeklom iz Bosne, nego i zato što se u Bosni ostvaruje evropska politika vanjskih granica. Šta mislite, da li je rad kojim se bavite 259 u Vašem udruženju interkulturni rad? ER: Interkulturni aspekt našeg rada je već stoga zastupljen, jer ljudi s bosanskim korijenima rade u našem udruženju. Pri tom imamo svi zajednički cilj pred očima: onaj razumni i dobri zajednički život u Evropi. Pri tom mi cijenimo sve različitosti kulturne posebnosti. Na taj način vodimo i prvobitno njemačko stanovništvo do toga da primjete: „Ljudi, pogledajte kako zanimljive stvari oni rade i imaju, koje je značenje svega toga?“ I dalje naš kulturni rad svoj glavni izražaj ima u filmskom festivalu. Ali osim njega postoji još jedan forum. Ovdje u Bottropu se svako dvije godine organizuje „Proslava kultura“ i na njoj mi naravno obavezno učestvujemo. Time pokazujemo: Mi pripadamo svi skupa jednoj zajednici i svi skupa doprinosimo da grad Bottrop bude ljepše i ugodnije mjesto za život. JYK: Festival pod nazivom „Bosnia-Herzegovina Looks Around Festival“ je bio sasvim jasno usmjeren prema stanovnicima Bottropa. AH:Pitali smo se: Kako bismo mogli doprijeti do svih građana? I kako bismo mogli ono o čemu se ne govori, prikazati u filmovima? Godinu smo se dana bavili pitanjem, kako bismo to ovdje mogli i realizovati. Gdje bismo mogli tražiti podršku? Koštalo je puno novca, snage i rada. Nekad zaista i po dvanaest sati na dan, i to pored drugih poslova, koje moramo obavljati. Voditelj gradskog Ureda za kulturu gospodin Kind nas je po ovom pitanju jako podržavao. JYK: Radilo se o tome da se bosanska filmska umjetnost dovede u Njemačku? AH: Ne samo eksplicitno bosanska, nego uopće balkanska. Naš se filmski festival zove Looks Around. Nama je to važno: Kako možemo doprijeti do ljudi prekoračujući granice? Kako ovim putem možemo razmjenjivati iskustva? I u tome smo uspjeli – uspjeli smo na platnu prikazati: Kako je u Bosni? Kako je na Kosovu? Kako je u Makedoniji? Kako je u Srbiji? U Hrvatskoj? U Sloveniji? To su ranije bili naše komšije i oni su još uvijek naše komšije. Doprli smo do mnogo zainteresovanih, naročito do ljudi porijeklom s Balkana, a koji danas žive u Rurskoj oblasti. Ono o čemu mi govorimo se u Bosni ne diskutuje tako otvoreno. „Zašto bih morao o tome govoriti, zašto bih morao samom sebi praviti stres? Ionako se ništa neće promijeniti.“ Kad mi ovdje o takvim stvarima govorimo, onda se nadamo, da će se i na Balkanu određene stvari promijeniti. Dvije voditeljice ElmaTataragić i Melina Alagić su s nama zajedno prvi put or- Ceren Türkmen, Bengü Kocatürk-Schuster 260 ganizovale digitalni filmski festival. Odjek je bilo jako velik. Razmislili smo da s našim festivalom u digitalnoj i u analognoj formi pristupimo školama. U školama postoji tema „politika“. Tema „religija“. Kultura i nauka su prisutne u školama. I zato želimo ponuditi školama da se učenicima i učenicama pruži mogućnost gledati ove igrane filmove i dokumentarce skupa s nastavnicima, te da o njima na nastavi diskutuju i tim putem analiziraju šta se dogodilo na Balkan. 30 godina poslije rata – šta se promijenilo? Ako svaka organizacija i svako udruženje doprinese da se učini jedan korak naprijed, onda će se sigurno moći dosta toga promijeniti. JYK: Stvarno je impresivno razumjeti u kakvo kompleksno tkivo je utkan ovaj festival. Mnogi ljudi u Njemačkoj misle da je tek s godinom 2015. tema „izbjeglištvo“ došla u javnost. Adem Kösterli i Wanja van Suntum, koji su u ono doba ovdje bili učenici, pričali su o tome da se iskustvo iz devedesetih godina prošlog vijeka, kad su također dolazile izbjeglice, tada iz bivših jugoslavenskih zemalja, upisalo u sjećanje, ali da se nije puno pričalo o tome, da se nije puno analiziralo koja je pozadina njihovog dolaska. Zato jedan filmski festival može možda slikama i sadržajima pružiti jednu poveznicu, kakva se prije mogla samo naslutiti. AH: „Bijeg“ je psihološki pojam. Ako bježim od sebe sama, ako o tome ne govorim, onda neću nikada moći obraditi ono što se meni ili nama dogodilo. A radi se o tome da se prihvati i shvati šta se dogodilo. I poslije toga ne pobjeći, nego se suočiti s činjenicama i reći: „Ja nisam kriv da mi se to dogodilo.“ I osim toga postoji neko, ko želi čuti moju priču. Čak i kad je to samo jedna jedina osoba. Da li to možeš razumjeti? Postoji velik broj ljudi, koji o tome nisu nikad govorili. Neki su bili moji prijatelji. Izvršili su samoubistvo. Da li možeš zamisliti – ovi ljudi, koji sada npr. dolaze iz Sirije i pristižu upravo u Njemačku - možeš li zamisliti koliko truda i rada stoji iza toga? p.46 Coal, Culture, Critique. Forms of commemoration as anti-racist praxis in a post-migrant society Kömür, Sanat, Eleştiri Göç sonrası toplumda ırkçılık karşıtı bir uygulama olarak anma biçimleri 1 Der Paritätische je krovno udruženje za preko 10.000 samostalnih organizacija, institucija i grupacija u području socijalne i zdravstvene brige. S 15 pokrajinskih udruženja i više od 280 poslovnih jedinica po raznim općinama ovo krovno udruženje podržava rad svojih članova. Yazar: Ayşe Güleç Çeviri: Çiler Fırtına Pedagog Ayşe Güleç, Kassel'deki Schlachthof kültür merkezinde göç alanında çalıştı, yerel düzeyde ağ oluşturma çalışmaları yürüttü ve ırkçılığa karşı girişim ve hareketlerde aktif yer alıyor. Ayşe Güleç aynı zamanda sanat alanında araştırmalar yürütüyor ve insanları sanatla buluşturuyor. Kassel'de yapılan uluslararası tanınan çağdaş sanat sergisi dOCUMENTA'da onikinci sergiden beri küratör olarak yer alıyor ve dOCUMENTA fifteen artistic team üyesidir. Alman göç politikasının farklı aşamalarında, göç hareketlerini düzenlemek amacıyla 1955-1973 yılları arasında devam eden işçi alımlarından, işçi alımların 1973’de durdurulması ve 80’li yıllarda geliştirilen entegrasyon konseptleri gibi farklı devlet uygulamaları tatbik edildi. Doğal bir parça olarak görülmeyeni adlandırmak için çeşitli kavramlar üretildi. Irkçılığın, imaj ve temsil politikalarına kazınmış, ilişkiler ve tarihi anlamlı ölçüde etkileyecek şekilde düzen veya düzenleyici sicilin bir parçası olarak kurumlara yerleştirilip yerleştirilmediğini, kısaca bu yüzden toplumsal, kurumsallaştırılmış, yapısal olarak düzenlenmiş bir şiddet ilişkisi olup olmadığını kendimize sormamız gerekiyor. Julian Warner Avrupa’dan Sonra isimli kitabının girişinde isabetli biçimde şöyle yazar: “1985 yılında Almanya’da dünyaya geldiğimde bir yabancıydım. 2005 yılında göçmen kökenli bir yurttaş, sonra 2010 yılında göçmenlik sonrası, 2012 yılında siyahi ve şimdi ise muhtemelen ‘siyahi, yerli ve renkli insanlar’ kelimelerinin kısaltması olan BIPoC oldum...” (Warner 2021:7). Babam 1960’ların başında misafir işçi olarak Gelsenkirchen’e geldi. Yaklaşık dört sene sonra Ceren Türkmen, Bengü Kocatürk-Schuster 261 annemi, erkek kardeşlerimi ve küçük bir çocuk olarak beni yanına aldırdı. Almanya’ya ilişkin ilk anılarım yaşadığımız ahşap baraka evlerden oluşan mahalle ile oraya ait kömür ocağının konveyör kulesi manzaralarına ilişkin. Ahşap baraka evler madenin hemen yakınlarında, yeşillikler içinde olmasına rağmen, onlar, kömür ocağı ve konveyör kulesi aklımda siyah ve gri olarak kalmış. Burada büyük kısmı İtalya ve Türkiye’den gelen diğer ailelerle birlikte yaşardık: İlk nesil yeni işçi aileleri. Biz çocukların, madenin hemen yakınında yeşil çayırlar ve bolca oyun alanımız vardı- aklımda doymuş yeşil tonlarında tek kalanlar bu çayırlar. Halihazırda ülkede bulunanlar, petrol krizinin ekonomik sonuçlarının hayatlarını etkileyeceğinin farkına varıp ailelerini hızla yanlarına aldırdılar. Çocukluğumu geçirdiğim mahallede erkek kardeşimle ben komşular için tercüme bürosu gibiydik. Mektupları çeviriyor, doktora ya da resmi daireye giden komşularımıza refakat ediyorduk. Türkiye’den gelen bir kadın öğretmenle birlikte mahalledeki kadınlar için kurslar açtım, Essen’deki bir toplum merkezinin gençlik merkezinde bir genç kızlar grubunu yönettim. O dönem gösterdiğim bu sorumluluk kuşkusuz 1980’lerin başından itibaren göçmen işçilerde toplamda yaşanan siyasallaşma ile bağlantılıydı. İş koşullarının eşit derecede ağır olmasına rağmen, ay sonunda Alman mesai arkadaşlarından daha az para alıyor olmaları, büyüklerin bir araya geldiklerinde konuştukları ana konuların arasındaydı. Eşit olmayan muameleler hakkında, “ırkçılık” kelimesi kullanılmadan hayli konuşulurdu. Aleida Assmann’a göre, hatırlama ve unutma, birbirine karşıt ve tamamen zıt eylemler olarak görülmemelidir. “Birbiriyle bağlantıları ve örtüşmeleri analiz edebilmek” için bundan ziyade bu iki kutbun arasında kalan alana bakılmalıdır (Assmann 2016:19). Assmann, bu asimetride insanın temel yaşam modunun hatırlamak değil, unutmak olduğunu söyler. Hatırlama, “unutmanın yadsınmasıdır ve tam anlamıyla bir çaba, bir karşı durma, zamana ve olayların gidişatına karşı bir veto anlamına gelir” (Assmann 2016:30). Babam Ruhr bölgesinin siyah altınını sökmek için düzenli olarak toprağın derinliklerine gönderilirdi. Gün yüzüne tekrar kavuştuğunda zor bir işgününü geride bırakmış olurdu. Sıcak günlerde baraka evlerin çayırları bir ortak yemek ve oturma odasına döner, büyükler kadar çocuklar da burada buluşurdu. Maden işçileri gün boyu yaptıkları işten, kazalardan, yaşanan komik olaylardan ve Almanya’daki ilk yılların maceralarından bahsederlerdi. Birbirleriyle tecrübelerini paylaşır, ağır iş koşullarına rağmen aldıkları ücretlerin düşüklüğünden şikayet eder, Alman ustabaşlarıyla bir yandan dalga geçer bir yandan da onlara kızarlardı. 1970’lerin başında okula başladım. O sıralar gerçek evlerden oluşan bir madenciler mahallesine taşınmıştık. Annem de işe gitmeye ve parça başı elektrikli soba monte etmeye başladı. Yeni evin mutfak penceresinden Gelsenkirchen-Buer'deki kömür ocağını görüyorduk ve ilk defa Alman komşularımız olmuştu. Lehçeyi andıran isimleri bizimkine göre daha eski bir göçe atıfta bulunuyordu. 1973'teki petrol ve ekonomik krizler, daha fazla misafir işçi alımının sona erdirilmesine yol açtı. Devlet Haziran 1984’e kadar, mali yardımın yanısıra (sadece) belli bazı özlük haklarının erken ödenmesi gibi yollarla geri dönme isteğini arttırmaya, gerçekte ise misafir işçilerden kurtulmaya çalıştı. İşçilerin bir çoğu bu işe yaramaz numaralara kanmadı ve kalmayı tercih etti. Kaldılar ve hem sendika içi ve hem de sendika dışında örgütlendiler, kendi derneklerini kurdular ve kendi topluluklarını ve yerlerini oluşturdular. Bu geri dönüş yardımları aşamasında Türkiye’de 1980’de askeri darbe oldu. Ülkeye şarkıları, kitapları ve eylemsellikleriyle kamusal tartışmalara müdahil olan sürgünler geldi. Bu döneme, üretilen ve o zamanın çalışma ve yaşam koşullarını belgeleyen çok sayıda roman ve şarkı damgasını vurdu. 1970'lerin daha çok memleket özlemini konu alan popüler şarkı veya filmlerini (Almanya Acı Vatan) bu kez (Deut-) ›Schland1‹daki hayatın gerçeklerini aktaran politik, mücadeleci film yapımları ve şarkılar takip etti. Örneğin Cem Karaca'nın bir şarkısından birkaç satır: “Hey Türk gel, Alman birası iç / O zaman buraya hoşgelmiş olursun / ‛Prost’ (şerefe) ile Allah azledilir / Ve sen de bir parça entegre edilirsin ... Ve Dackel köpeği eğiten, çocuk yerine / Neredeyse oldu entegre ... Siyasetle ilgilenmedikçe / O zaman nihayet olmuşsundur entegre ... ” 1990'lı yıllarda Doğu Almanya sınır kenar bölgesindeki Kassel şehrinde üniversitede okudum Ceren Türkmen, Bengü Kocatürk-Schuster 262 ve iki Almanya’nın tekrar birleşmesini yaşadım. O dönemi ‛Tekne dolu’ başlığı altındaki ırkçı görüntüler ve tartışmalar şekillendirmekteydi. “Cumhuriyetçiler” adlı sağcı parti bu sloganla diğer partilerin sağ kanatlarını kazanmaya ve harekete geçirmeye çalışıyordu. Medya ve Der Spiegel'den FAZ’a kadar burjuva gazeteleri, bu dolu tekne imajını alıp söylemi ateşlediler ve bu metaforu entelektüel çevrelerde de kabul görür hale getirdiler. Medya düzeyinde kışkırtılan bu söylem, Hoyerswerda (1991), Mölln (1992), Solingen (1993) veya Rostock-Lichtenhagen’da (1992) göçmen ailelere ve mülteci yurtlarına yönelik birçok ölüme sebep olan kundaklama saldırılarına yol açtı. Mölln ve Solingen'deki saldırıların ardından dükkanlarda satın alınacak yangın söndürücüsü kalmadı, hepsi tüketildi. Birçok göçmen aile bir saldırı anında hane halkını ve çocuklarını kurtarmak için yataklarının altına ip saklar hale geldi. bir büfe, bir çilingir dükkanı, bir terzi dükkanı, bir yemek büfesi, bir manav, bir internet kafe. Bu işletmelerin çoğu işlek caddelerde, otobüs durakları veya okul önlerinde ve hatta bazıları polis karakollarının hemen yakınında yer alıyordu. Tam da bu aşamada Büyük-Almanya-Kuruntusu oluştu. Mölln ve Solingen'den sonra NSU'nun temelleri atıldı (Kahveci / Pınar Sarp 2017). Siyaset zemini hazırladı ve darp etmeye devam etti: 26 Mayıs 1993'te, Federal Meclis'te sözde sığınma uzlaşması için yapılan oylamada 521 Federal Meclis üyesi lehte oy kullanırken, iltica hakkına ilişkin kanunundaki değişikliğe karşı sadece 132 milletvekili red oyu kullandı. Sığınma uzlaşması aslında, Nazi döneminin deneyimlerinden doğduğu ve o zamana kadar da hukuken dava konusu olabilecek bir bireysel hak olarak muamele gördüğü için, anayasanın baştacı olarak kabul edilen sığınma yasasının yürürlükten kaldırılmasıydı. Üniversite eğitimimi tamamladıktan sonra Kassel'deki Schlachthof kültür merkezinde çalışmaya başladım. Halit Yozgat'ın 6 Nisan 2006'da NSU'nun dokuzuncu kurbanı olarak öldürüldüğü internet kafe bu kültür merkezinin yakınlardaydı. 2000-2006 yılları arasında Nürnberg, Münih, Hamburg, Rostock, Dortmund ve Kassel şehirlerinde yaşları 20 ile 40 arasında değişen serbest meslek sahibi dokuz kişi ve herbiri yine aynı silahla vurularak öldürüldü: Enver Şimşek, Abdurrahim Özüdoğru, Süleyman Taşköprü, Habil Kılıç, Mehmet Turgut, İsmail Yaşar, Theodoros Boulgarides, Mehmet Kubaşık ve Halit Yozgat kendilerine ait iş yerlerinde çalışan küçük işletme sahipleriydi. Günlük yaşam ihtiyaçlarımız için kamuya açık bu yerler suç mahalleri oldu: NSU'nun saldırıları dahilinde en az üç bombalı saldırı gerçekleştirildi: Örneğin, Haziran 2004'te Köln'ün işlek caddesi Keupstrasse'da Yıldırım kardeşlerin berber dükkanının önüne mümkün olduğunca çok insanı öldürebilmek için 700 çivinin kullanıldığı bir çivili bomba yerleştirildi ve infilak ettirildi. Mağdur yakınlarının ve bu saldırıdan kurtulanların, ‘faillerin Nazi olabileceğine’ dair ısrarlı uyarıları duyulmadı - bunun yerine kurbanların bizzat akrabaları yıllar boyunca fail muamelesi gördü. Halit Yozgat'ın öldürülmesinden sadece bir ay sonra, anne babası, Enver Şimşek ve Mehmet Kubaşık'ın aileleriyle birlikte “10. Kurban Olmasın” başlıklı anma eylemleri düzenledi. Aileler o zamana kadar birbirlerini tanımıyordu. İlk eylem 6 Mayıs 2006’da Kassel’de, ardından 13 Haziran’da da Dortmund’da düzenlendi. Kassel’deki eyleme çoğunluğu göçmen topluluklarından olmak üzere 3 bin kişi katıldı. İşlenen bu seri cinayetler arasında bir bağlantı olduğunu ve bu fiilerin ırkçı arka planının farkında olduklarını bu eylemle gösterdiler. Yapılan konuşmalarda ve taşınan pankartlarda, ‘polis ve siyasilerin bariz biçimde ortada olanı görmek istemediğini’ açıkça dile getirdiler; “10. Kurbanın Olmaması” için bu cinayetler serisinin durdurulmasını talep ettiler. Buna karşın eylemler hakim olan toplum tarafından büyük oranda görmezden gelindi. Bu sebeple ‘’[…] ‘hakim’ olanların duyma konusundaki yeteneksizliğini, daha doğrusu onların ‘duymada seçiciliklerini’ ve ‘stratejik sağırlıklıklarına’ karşı kızılca kıyameti koparmak önemli” (Dhawan 2012:52), zira 3 binden fazla kişi ne olup bittiğini biliyordu. “10. Kurban Olmasın” eyleminde taşınan pankart ve dövizlerin bazılarını Dortmund’daki Kubaşık ailesi hazırladı. Eylem adeta bir öngörü, henüz yaşanmadan önce zihinlerde belirmiş sahnelerin eylemsel olarak (Oliver Marchart) siyasi anları önceden tahmin ettiği bir nevi ön canlandırma oldu: Eylemden bir yıl sonra, kadın polis Michèle Kiesewetter öldürüldü. Aileleri desteklemeyi amaçlayan inisiyatifler, ancak NSU üçlüsü kamuoyunca bilinir hale gel- Princela Biyaa, Marny Garcia Mommertz dikten sonra oluşturuldu. 6 Nisan İnisiyatifi, ilk anma etkinliğinden hemen sonra kuruldu. 2012 yılındaki ilk anma etkinliklerinde, ailelerin taleplerine gözlerini yuvarlayarak ve derin nefesler alarak tepki veren insanlar gördüm. Kendi kendime bu davranışların ne anlama gelebileceğini sordum. Söyleşiler yapmaya başladım ve ‘hatırlama politikaları’ ile ‘dinlemek ve dinlemeyi istememe’ arasında yer alan davranış tarzları konusunu araştırmaya odaklandım. ‘Dinleme’, ‘dinlemeyi isteme ve istememe’, kişilerin kendileri ile bağlantı kurma ve dayanışma gösterme şeklindeki sosyal-politik pratiklerine temel önkoşul görevi yapan aktif, duygusal bilişsel davranışlardır. Ülke çapındaki inisiyatifler 2013’ten 2017’ye kadar Kassel’de oluşturulan ağ üzerinden iletişim kurdu. NSU davası olarak anılan dava boyunca kurbanların yakınlarına yönelik yaklaşımların gözlemlenmesi bir mahkeme fikrine yol açtı. Sanat, eylem ve bilim alanlarından insanlar ile doğrudan mağdurlardan oluşan yüzden fazla kişinin katılımıyla da, yıllara yayılan bir süreçte NSU Kompleksini Feshetme Mahkemesi hazırlandı. İlk mahkeme Mayıs 2017’de Köln’de düzenlendi. NSU Kompleksini Feshetme Mahkemesi ile Nazi terörü mağdurlarının kendi tecrübelerinden edindikleri bilgiler ışığında, NSU’yu, içerdiği farklı aktörleri ile birlikte ve bir yapı olarak ‘görünür ve işitilir’ hale getirmek için bir alan oluşmalıydı. Aynı zamanda kurumsal ve gündelik ırkçılık da dava edilmeliydi. Aslında mağdurlar o güne kadar konuşmamış değillerdi –bunu yıllardan beri yapıyorlardı. Bununla beraber düpedüz duymazlıktan gelindiler, sesleri sistematik olarak kulak ardı edildi, hatta susturuldular. Bu yapısal cehalet ve empati eksikliğine (Güleç / Schaffer 2017:57) karşı çalışmak ve böylece toplumsal, ırkçı bölünmeyle mücadele etmek NSU Kompleksini Feshetme Mahkemesi nin ilan edilmiş amacıydı. NSU'nun öncülleri vardı ve ne yazık ki bu ağ hala aktif. “Tek başına hareket eden failler” ve “yalıtılmış terörist hücreler” teorisine bağlı kalmak, Hessen'de Bölge Başkanı Dr. Walter Lübcke’nin öldürülmesine, Ahmed İ.'yi öldürmeye teşebbüse, NSU 2.0 tehdit mektubu ve Hanau'daki cinayetlerde görüldüğü gibi daha fazla cinayet ve saldırılara yol açtı. NSU cinayetleriyle ilgili dosyaların açılması ilkin 130 yıl için, bugün ise sadece 30 yıl için 263 yasaklanmış bulunurken, devletin ihmallerine ve cinayetlerin aydınlatılmasını engellemelerine ilişkin liste de uzuyor. ‘Unutma’ kimin payına düşen bir haktır? Kim hatırlamak zorundadır? Assmann'a göre ‘hatırlama’, cereyan eden olaylarla aktif bir bağlantı kurulması noktasında anımsama politikasının önemli bir parçasıdır. Dolayısıyla ‘dayanışma içinde hareket etme’ bağlamında hatırlama, öncelikle emek olarak anlaşılmalıdır. Ancak dayanışmanın, verilen mücadele ve çekilen acıların eşit derecede olmasını gerektiren ön koşulları yoktur. Umudun da ortak bir geleceğe adanması gerekmez. Eşit olmayan bir duygu, yaşam ya da vücuda rağmen, hepimizin aynı topraklarda yaşadığımız bilinciyle, dayanışmayı sorumluluk ve emek (Ahmed 2014: 189) olarak görebiliriz. Faşistleşmenin özellikle Avrupa'da ilerlediği bir zamanda, net ırkçılık karşıtı dayanışma alanlarını korumamız ve eğitim çalışmalarını, üniversiteleri ve sanat ve kültür kurumlarını buna uygun titizlikte geliştirmemiz daha bir önemli hale gelmiştir. Göstermelik ve faydasız olan ‘kurumlarda ayrımcılığa karşı duyarlılık’ taleplerine yönelik bir eleştiri, özellikle yapı ve kaynak talep etmek anlamına gelir: Masada kimin oturduğunu sormak ve kimlerin hangi pozisyonlara getirilip kimlerin ise getirilmediğini görmek anlamına gelir. Bilhassa kurumları güçlü kapsama ve dışlama mekânları olarak tanımlamak ve bu kurumları oluşturan yapılardaki değişimler üzerinde sürekli çalışmak demektir. 1. “Schland” Deutschland’ın kısaltmasıdır. Almanya milli futbol takımını 2006 yılındaki dünya kupası maçlarında desteklemek için taraftarları “Deutschland, Deutschland” tezahüratıyla eşlik ediyorlardı ve kelimenin ikinci hecesini “Laaaand” diye uzatıyorlardı. Böylece “Schland” sözcüğü oluştu ve “Deutschland” yerine kullanıldı. Müzisyen Fehler Kuti “Schland Is The Place For Me” https://www. youtube.com/watch?v=voceZRL3Oig (05.08.2021). Kaynaklar Sara Ahmed, Duyguların Kültürel Politikası, 2. Aufl., Edinburgh 2014, S. 189. Aleida Assmann, Formen des Vergessens, Göttingen 2016, S. 19. Julian Warner, After Europe. Beiträge zur dekolonialen Kritik, Berlin 2021, S. 7. Ayşe Güleç/Johanna Schaffer, »Empathie, Ignoranz und migrantisch situiertes Wissen«, in: Nikita Dhawan, »Hegemonic Listening and Subversive Silences: Ethical- political Imperatives«, in: Alice Lagaay/Michael Lorber (Hg.): Destruction in the Performative, Amsterdam/New York 2012. Princela Biyaa, Marny Garcia Mommertz Çağrı Kahveci/Özge Pınar Sarp, »Von Solingen zur NSU-rassistischen Gewalt im kollektiven Gedächtnis von Migrant*innen türkischer Herkunft«, in: Juliane Karakayali/Çagri Kahveci/Doris Liebscher/Carl Melchers, Carl (Hg.), Den NSU-Komplex analysieren, Bielefeld 2017, S 37-56. Donna Haraway, »Situated Knowledges: The Science Question in Feminism and the Privilege of Partial Perspective«, in: Feminist Studies, 14/3, 1988, S. 575–599, hier S. 583. Oliver Marchart, Conflictual Aesthetics, Artists Activism and the Public Sphere, Berlin 2019. 264 p.52 The history of racist violence, between structural racism, political mourning and the struggle for civil rights Yapısal ırkçılık, siyasi yas ve yurttaşlık hakları için mücadele üçgeninde ırkçı şiddetin tarihi Bir sözlü tarih perspektifi Yazarlar: Ceren Türkmen, Bengü Kocatürk-Schuster Çeviri: Hakan Dogan Ceren Türkmen, sosyolog ve insan hakları aktivisti, Duisburg anma kültürü, demokrasi ve insan hakları merkezinde araştırma görevlisi ve Berlinde Alice Salomon yüksekokulunda doçent olarak çalışıyor. Araştırma alanları: ırkçılık, göçmen politikası, Hegemonya-Araştırması, Racial Capitalism ve Kentsel toplumsal hareketler. 1990‘lı yıllardan beri sivil toplum göçmen öz örgütlenmelerinde yer alıyor. 2017 yılında Duisburg 1984 girişimini kurdu ve Dayanışma Modernizmi Enstitüsü´ nün yönetim kurulu üyesidir. Bengü Kocatürk-Schuster, 1969 yılında Almanya'ya gelen “misafir işçi" bir ailenin çocuğudur. Almanya'daki göçle ilgili dokümantasyon merkezi ve müze olan DOMiD'in uzun süreli bir çalışanı olarak, göç tarihi üzerine çok sayıda sergi projesine katkıda bulundu. Şu anda ağırlıklı olarak koleksiyonun genişletilmesi ve yakında Köln'de kurulacak olan göç müzesi üzerinde çalışıyor. Duisburg 1984 girişiminin aktif bir üyesi olarak, diğer ırkçılık karşıtı ittifaklar ve projelerde yer almaktadır. Duisburg’un sesini etkileyici bir şekilde şekillendiren Alessandro Russo anısına… (21.3.1979 - 23.4.2021) Ren ile Ruhr’un kavuştuğu yerde bulunan şehir, yedi yüz yerinden yırtıla yırtıla, kara bir çiçek gibi büyümüştü. Gittikçe de büyüyordu. Sokaklarında Avrupa’nın, Asya’nın, Afrika’nın başka başka ülkelerinden gelmiş göçmen işçilerin çocukları sinek sürüleri gibi savruluyordu. Hamborn’un Meiderich’in, Hochfeld’in, Rhein- Princela Biyaa, Marny Garcia Mommertz hausen’in yüz yıl önce yapılmış evlerinde oturan işçilerin çocukları, her renkten, her soydan, her boydan savruluyordu. (Baykurt 1982:44)1 Geçmişin Hayaletleri Berlinli fotoğrafçı Jasper Kettner ile birlikte 14 Nisan 2019 günü saat 13:30 sıralarında, Duisburg'un Wanheimerort semtinde Satır ailesinden dört kız kardeşin ikinci büyüğü Rukiye Satır ile buluşuyoruz. Diğer üçü de; Remziye Satır Akkuş, Aynur Satır Akça ve Eylem Satır Özcan gelmek üzereydi. Rukiye Satır bu bahar gününde hüzünlü, elinde sardığı sigarasını gergin bir şekilde çekip o sırada birkaç kez endişeyle cep telefonuna bakıyordu. Üç kız kardeşle buluşmayı da organize eden Rukiye, aynı zamanda onları günlerce Yakınlar2 adlı sergi ve kitap projesine katılmaya teşvik etti. Fakat o anda herkesin fotoğraf çekimi için buluşmaya gelip gelmeyeceğinden emin değildi. Kardeşler uzun zamandır birbirlerini görmemişlerdi. Buluşma noktamız Wanheimerstaße 301. On kişilik Satır ailesi, 1984'teki kundaklama olayına kadar burada yaşadı. Binanın diğer tüm sakinleri gibi, onlar da bir misafir işçi ailesiydi. 1984 yılında, Ağustos'un 26'sını 27'sine bağlayan gece, dört kız kardeş, aile üyelerinden yedisini kaybetti. Rukiye ve Aynur yaşadıkları binanın ikinci katından sokağa atladılar. Mucize o ki hayatlarını ciddi şekilde yaralanarak kurtarabildiler. Döndü, Çiğdem, Ümit ve Songül Satır, Zeliha, Rasim ve Tarık Turhan ise o gece can verdiler. Binanın diğer birçok sakini ciddi şekilde yaralandı. Dokuz yıl boyunca kundaklama olayı ne hukuken ne de sivil toplum açısından çözümlenebildi: faili yok. Başından beri ırkçı-sağcı motiflerin belirtileri olsa da, ne güvenlik yetkilileri ne de politikacılar bunları soruşturdu. Bunun yerine, herkes siyasi ve dolayısıyla ırkçı motifleri erkenden ihtimal dışı bırakmaktan yana. Dava unutuldu. Fakat 1993'te, pogromların yoğun olduğu bir dönemde, Duisburg'un kuzeyinde bir mülteci barınma yerini kundaklamakla suçlanan bir kadın, 1994'te tutuklandı. Evelyn D.'ye piromani teşhisi kondu - suçlu bulundu, adli tıp tarafından mahkum edildi ve bir psikiyatri koğuşuna yerleştirildi. Halen gözaltındayken, Wanheimerstrasse'deki eve kundaklama saldırısını da gerçekleştirdiğini itiraf etti. İtiraftan sonra nihayet bir fail bulunmuş oldu. Ancak yetkililer için hala ırkçı 265 veya sağcı motifler araştirmadılar. İtiraftan ise memnunlardı. Yerel basın, son derece kısa bir haberde, 'piromaniac' davasının sona erdiğini ve 1984'teki saldırının çözüldüğünü bildirdi3. Fakat mağdurların ömür boyu yanlarında taşımak zorunda oldukları soruların cevabı yok: Neden sevdiklerini kaybetmek zorunda kaldılar? Yıllar geçtikçe 1984 yılındaki kundaklama saldırısının üzerine örtülen perde kurşun bir battaniyeye dönüştü. Toplum, 35 yıl sonra artık onu hatırlamıyor bile. En fazla, »o zamanlar böyle bir kaza olmuştu« şeklinde çelişkili bilgiler ya var ya yok. Artık kimse bir kundaklama saldırısından bahsetmiyor. Ancak bugün özellikle göçmenler, bunun hala çözülmemiş bir suç olduğundan şüpheleniyor. Fakat onlar da acı verici bir sessizliğe bürünüyorlar. Fakat devlet, yargı ve emniyet birimleri, şiddete uğrama nedenini görünmez ve ifade edilemez hale getirdiğinde, faşist-ırkçı şiddet mağdurları için bu ne anlama geliyor? Yasal olarak aydınlatılmayan ırkçı şiddet nasıl aktarılıyor? Bu tarihsel hafıza kaybı göz önüne alındığında, bugün ırkçılık ve ırkçı şiddet hakkında konuşmaya nasıl yaklaşılmalı? Irkçılık tarihi yazımında şiddet mağdurlarının bakış açısı nasıl bir rol oynamalıdır? 2018 yılında, yani kundaklama saldırısından yaklaşık 35 yıl sonra, bilim insanları, sanatçılar, aktivistler ve şehrin sakinleri Duisburg 1984 İnisiyatifi adlı sivil toplum girişimini kurdular. 1984 ve 1993 olaylarının toplumsal ve yasal olarak açıklığa kavuşturulması, mağdurların kolektif bir şekilde anılması, kurumsal ve toplumsal ırkçılığa karşı siyasi sonuçlar elde edilmesi için çalışmalar yürütüyor. Buluşmaya diğer kız kardeşler de katılır ve beklenenin tersine hepsi gelir. Kısa bir selamlaşmanın ardından Rukiye, evi işaret eder ve gergin ortamı yumuşatmak için ufak tefek anlatmaya başlıyor. Aynur'un dudakları birbirine yapışmış, çok gergin ve içine kapanık olduğu hemen göze çarpıyor. Eylem şüpheli bir bakışla, soru üstüne soru sorar. En çok da o gün hayatta kalan kız kardeşlerin en büyüğü Remziye Satır Akkuş için endişeleniyoruz. Pek konuşmuyor, ama bakışları ve duruşu acıyı, üzüntüyü ve öfkeyi ortaya koyuyor. Eşi Suat Akkuş yanından ayrılmıyor. Zemin kattaki küçük lokantada oturuyoruz. 1980'lerde Yasemin Çölgeçen, Aylin Kreckel bir Yugoslav 'misafir işçi ailesi' burada bir restoran işletiyordu. Daha sonra öğrendik ki Remziye ve kocası 1983'te düğünlerini burada yapmışlar. İlk başta kız kardeşler arasında da büyük bir mesafe hissediliyordu. Fakat bize güvenleri arttıkça, daha çok anlatmaya başlıyorlar. Kız kardeşler ağlar ve gülerler, yüz kasları gevşer - şimdiye kadar söylenmemiş çok şey kalmıştır: »Çünkü on yıllardır kimse bizimle gerçekten konuşmadı, çünkü soruşturmalar hakkında bilgilendirilmedik, anmalar yapılmadı, çünkü insan yerine konulmadık ve kendi halimize bırakıldık, çünkü Duisburg'daki insanların 1984'teki bu kundaklama saldırısını ve ailemizden yedi kişiyi kaybettiğimizi bilmediğini fark ettik, ve yalancı durumuna düşmemek için unutmam gerektiğini düşündüm. Hatta bir zaman sonra ailede bunu konuşmayı bile bıraktık« diyor Aynur Satır Akça. Kendi Ailelerini kurdular ve kimseden yardım almadan hayatlarına devam ettiler. Olumsuz duyguları çocuklarından uzak tutmaya çalıştılar ama ister istemez travmayı onlara da aktardılar. Yaşadıkları, tüm hayatlarını belirledi. Şimdi ise hatıraların gücünü kelimelere dökmenin yollarını aramaya başlıyorlar. Fotoğrafçı Jasper Kettner bir an bulur ve kız kardeşlerin fotoğraflarını çeker. Fotoğrafın nerede çekildiğini hemen göstermiyor ama kız kardeşlerin kaçamak bakışları nereye baktıklarını ele veriyor. Felaketten uzaklaşmak için her biri farklı bir yöne bakıyor. Kız kardeşler için olay kapanmıyor, çünkü olay aydınlatılıp netleştirilmedi, çünkü kundaklama saldırısından hiçbir sosyal ve siyasi sonuç çıkarılmamıştır. Acı, bir sonraki nesle aktarıldı. Resim, ırkçılığa karşı toplumsal, kurumsal ve politik sessizliği simgeliyor. Kız kardeşlerin bakışları, aile üyelerinin yas tutmamalarını ve kendilerinin anlatılmamış ırkçı şiddet deneyimlerini temsil ediyor. Irkçı şiddetin mağdurlarını saygıyla anmak, kolektif anma çalışması yoluyla yeniden sahiplenilmesi için bir mücadele olmaya devam ediyor. Satır kardeşler artık eve bakamaz hale geldiler. Resimde birbirlerine yakın olsalar bile, bu facianın aileye getirdiği uzaklaşma ve parçalanma yüzlerinden okunuyor. Fotoğraf, kız kardeşlerin o gün birlikte yürümeye karar verdikleri sancılı bir yolculuğun başlangıcına işaret ediyor. 35 yıldır bedenlerini ve ruhlarını yiyip bitiren tarif edilemez duyguları , nihayet dile getirmeleri yönünde bir adım atılıyor. Nihayet yas tutmaları, 266 olayın aydınlatılması yönündeki istekleri, kendi bakış açıları ve şüphelerini ifade etmeleri yönünde bir adım atılıyor. Duisburg 1984 İnisiyatifi, Duisburg'da mağdurların anma biçimlerine ve anma dileklerine karşılık gelen bir halk anıtı yaptırma amacıyla mağdurların yakınları ile ortak çalışmayı görünür kılıyor. Böylece bu katılımcı çalışma, göçmen, ırkçılık ve faşizm karşıtı demokratikleşme sürecinin bir parçası olmaktadır ki ırkçılığın öldürdüğü bir daha asla unutulmasın. Bu girişim; akrabalarla dayanışma gösterdi, yerel tarih araştırması yaptı, sözlü tarih görüşmeleri yaptı, savcılık, dava ve gazete dosyalarını inceledi, yasal danışmanlık hizmeti verdi, egemen siyasi söyleve müdahale etti ve diğer ırkçı şiddet mağdurlarıyla ülke çapında ağlar kurdu. Ayrıca yazdı, araştırdı, filmler yaptı, konferanslara katıldı ve 2019 ve 2020'de ilk iki anma törenine ev sahipliği yaptı. Eylem Satır Özcan, »1984'te Duisburg'da yaşananlar sadece Duisburg'da ve ülke çapında değil, tüm dünyada bilinmelidir ki bir daha yaşanmasın!« diyor. Çalışma aynı zamanda toplumdaki, yargıdaki, güvenlik birimlerindeki ve siyasetteki yapısal ırkçılığa karşı bir karşı-anlatı sunuyor. Irkçı şiddetin sürekliliğini anlatmak için sadece eleştirel aşırı sağcı gruplar hakkındaki araştırmalar değil, aynı zamanda yapısal ve kurumsal ırkçılık analizi ve göç tarihi ile bağlantısının da ortaya konulması gerekiyor. Duisburg 1984 İnisiyatifi ayrıca göçmenlerin haklarından mahrum bırakılmasını onaylamanın veya göçün tüm sorunların anası olduğunu düşünmenin ırkçı şiddeti onaylamak demek olduğunu vurgular. Anmak mücadele demektir - ve Duisburg örneğinde birlikte mücadele etmek, her şeyden önce yeniden hatırlayabilmek için... 1 Tanınmış bir yerel yazar olan Fakir Baykurt, 1979'dan itibaren Duisburg'da yaşadı ve Duisburg'daki göçmen işçilerin hayatı hakkında sosyal açıdan eleştirel kitaplar yazdı. 2 Yakınlar, İbrahim Arslan ve Jasper Kettner tarafından sağcı ve ırkçı şiddet mağdurlarının yakınlarına ve nadiren duyulan hikayelerine ithaf edilen bir kitap ve fotoğraf projesidir. 3 Commoning History Archive özel koleksiyonu, tarih bilinmiyor, kısa mesajın başlığı: »Kadın kundaklamayı itiraf ediyor«. Yasemin Çölgeçen, Aylin Kreckel Kaynaklar Les Back/Maggie Tate, »For a sociological Reconstruction: WEB Du Bois, Stuart Hall and Segregated Sociology«, in: Sociological Research Online, 2015, https://doi.org/10.5153/sro.3773 (26.04.2021). Fakir Baykurt, Gece Vardiyası. Istanbul 1982. Boaventura de Sousa Santos, »Vom Postmodernen zum Postkolonialen. Und über beides hinaus«, in: Heike Brunkhorst/Sergió Costa (Hg.), Jenseits von Zentrum und Peripherie, München/Mering 2005, S. 197-219. W.E.B. Du Bois, The Souls of Black Folk, New York 1903. Ulrich Herbert, »Wer sprach von Fremdarbeiter? Interview«, in: Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, 153, 05.07.2005, S. 31. James-H. Jackson, Migration and Urbanization in the Ruhr Valley: 1821-1914, Boston/Leiden/Cologne 1997. Jasper Kettner/Ibrahim Arslan (Hg.), Die Angehörigen, Berlin 2019. ohne Autor, »Nimm Deine Prämie und hau ab«, in: Der Spiegel, 21.08.1983, https://www.spiegel.de/politik/nimm-deinepraemie-und-hau-ab-a-01490c44-0002-0001-0000000014021231?context=issue (26/.04.2021). ohne Autor, »Unser Traum«, in: Der Spiegel, 15.10.1984, https://www.spiegel.de/politik/unsertraum-a-ac7a4a3f-0002-0001-0000000013511969 (26.04.2021). Sabine Rosenbladt, »Ohne Titel«, in: Konkret, 10/1984. Ceren Türkmen, »Migration und Rassismus in der Bonner Republik. Der Brandanschlag in Duisburg 1984«, in: Lydia Lierke/Massimo Perinelli (Hg.), Erinnern stören. Der Mauerfall aus migrantischer und jüdischer Perspektive, Berlin 2020, S. 99-133. Vanessa Vu, »Warum hat Deutschland Đỗ Anh Lân vergessen«, in: Die Zeit, 21.06.2018. Artikel der Tageszeitung Milliyet vom 31.8.1984 in der Privatsammlung Commoning History - Archiv der Initiative Duisburg 1984. Leserbrief der Westdeutschen Allgemeinen Zeitung vom 29.08.1984 in der Privatsammlung Commoning-History Archiv der Initiative Duisburg 1984. 267 p.66 A fairy tale called Roma Theatre Pralipe Ein Märchen namens Roma-Theater Pralipe Von: Nedjo Osman Übersetzung: Mirjana und Klaus Wittmann Nedjo Osman ist freier Schauspieler, Regisseur, Dichter und Übersetzer. Seit 1995 ist er zusammen mit Nada Kokotovic künstlerischer Leiter des Theater TKO in Köln tätig. Seine Gedichte sind in Serbien, Türkei, Mazedonien, Kroatien und Deutschland erschienen. Geschichten über Roma sind spannend und ungewöhnlich, weil sie das Unmögliche möglich machen und dadurch zu Märchen werden. Leider haben diese Märchen mit ihrer Besonderheit, Unwahrscheinlichkeit, Faszination und Unvorhersehbarkeit nicht immer ein glückliches Ende. Einst konnten in einem Land auch arme Leute Schulen besuchen, in Fabriken arbeiten, in Städten leben, aber trotz dieser Vorteile, die nicht in allen Ländern gegeben waren, befanden sie sich mit der Mehrheitsbevölkerung nicht auf Augenhöhe. Die armen Leute waren die Roma, und das Land hieß Jugoslawien. Genau in diesem Land wurde 1970 ein kleines Roma-Theater gegründet. Das geschah in einer der größten Roma-Siedlungen Europas, in Šuto Orizej, besser bekannt als Šutka, am Stadtrand von Skoplje. Die Gründungskompanie bestand aus einer Gruppe junger Roma-Enthusiasten, einer Handvoll Schauspielern und ihrem ersten und letzten Spielleiter Rahim Burhan. Er gab dem Theater Richtung und Form. Damals ahnte niemand, dass man eines Tages in ganz Europa von diesem Theater reden würde, einem klassischen Roma-Theater, in dem man nur sprach und schauspielerte, und nicht etwa tanzte oder Musik machte, wie man es von Roma gewöhnt war. Damit begann eine echte Roma-Geschichte. Der Anfang war nicht leicht. Die ersten Proben hielt man zunächst auf der Straße ab, dann in einer Grundschule, danach in einem Kulturzentrum in Skoplje und schließlich mitten in Europa – in Deutschland. Aber bis dahin musste noch viel Zeit vergehen. Die jungen, enthusiastischen Roma begannen zusammen mit ihrem Leiter Rahim Burhan, das Zekai Fenerci Leid und das Leben der Roma auf eine andere Art zu erzählen, gegen Diskriminierung zu kämpfen und einen neuen Weg für die Anerkennung der Kultur, der Identität und der Sprache der Roma zu suchen. Sie wollten die Nicht-Roma, die über Roma nur Klischees und Stereotype wussten, davon überzeugen, dass man die Roma-Kultur durch das Theater kennenlernen konnte. Das war damals die Herausforderung für diese jungen Leute, so wie später für jeden, der die ›magische Box‹ namens Pralipe (zu Deutsch: Bruderschaft) betrat. Für den Anfang war es wichtig, die Form und den Stil des Theaters, sein Gesicht und die Sprache zu finden. Rahim Burhan gab Pralipe einen eigenen Stil – er schuf ein körperliches, rituelles Theater. Dabei ließ er sich von Werk, Ästhetik und Formensprache des französischen Theaterschauspielers, -regisseurs und -theoretikers Antonin Artaud sowie des polnischen Theaterregisseurs und -theoretikers Jerzy Grotowski inspirieren, orientierte sich aber auch an indischen Darbietungsweisen wie dem Kathakali-Theater. Die ersten Vorstellungen waren Ne, ne (Nein, nein – 1970), ein Stück gegen den Vietnam-Krieg; Mautije (1973) über die Göttin der Violine und Soske (Warum – 1975) über die Roma als Opfer des Holocaust. Das Roma-Theater Pralipe pflegte Rituale. Einen wichtigen Teil des Spiels machten Bewegung, Schrei und Klang aus. Man befasste sich mit dem Menschen, mit der Identität und im Vordergrund standen die Emotionen und die Energie. In einem solchen Theater ist alles wirklich. Pralipe machte zunächst nonverbales Theater, vor allem wegen der sprachlichen Barriere, aber auch, weil es sich auf eine eher klassische Art mit den Themen, mit der Tradition und den Ritualen der Roma beschäftigte. Unter den jungen Roma verbreitete sich rasch die Kunde vom Pralipe-Theater. Von Jahr zu Jahr wuchs bei ihnen das Interesse, daran mitzuwirken. Die jungen Roma kamen und gingen. Diejenigen, die es verinnerlicht hatten, blieben: Sami Osman, Rejan Šaban-Šulc, Šaban Bajram, Muharem Jonuz, Umer Djemail, Ramo Ramo. Den Durchbruch zur großen jugoslawischen Szene schaffte das Theater Pralipe mit dem Stück Soske. Danach kamen erste Einladungen zu den großen Festivals Jugoslawiens, an denen nur professionelle Theaterkompanien teilnahmen. Tief beeindruckte Pralipe sowohl das Publikum als auch die Theaterkritiker. Letztere ließen es sich nicht nehmen, in den angesehensten Zeitschriften über ein Ensemble zu berichten, das 268 in einer unbekannten Sprache spielte und allein mit seinen Emotionen, seiner Kraft und seinem künstlerischen Stil alle für sich einnahm. 1977 wurde Pralipe zum berühmten Theaterfestival in Nancy eingeladen, danach zu vielen anderen europäischen Festivals sowie zu allen bedeutenden Theaterfestspielen in Ex-Jugoslawien. Ende der 1980er Jahre begann Pralipe, Sprechtheater zu machen, wobei es seinen unverkennbaren Stil beibehielt. Man zeigte bekannte Stücke, angefangen mit den griechischen Tragödien, Shakespeares Dramen und Theatertexten jugoslawischer Autoren. 1982 wurde erfolgreich Sophokles‘ König Ödipus inszeniert, mit dem Pralipe am Theaterfestival in Delphi in Griechenland auftrat. Da stieß eine neue Generation junger Roma-Schauspieler zu Pralipe, darunter Nedjo Osman, Baki Hasan und andere, die dem Ensemble einen neuen Ton verliehen. Auf seinem Repertoire hatte es nun die Stücke König Ödipus, Menschen und Tauben, Nichtraucher, Eine unendliche Frage, Die Tragödie von Theben, Marat Sade, Jedjupka und Orestie. Es folgten weitere Aufführungen, Festivals und Gastspiele in Jugoslawien und im europäischen Ausland. 1990 kam man mit dem Leiter des Theaters an der Ruhr, Roberto Ciulli, ins Gespräch, der das Theater Pralipe bei seinen Gastspielen in Ex-Jugoslawien mehrfach traf und Ende des Jahres beschloss, die Kompanie wegen ihrer Besonderheit zu einer ersten Koproduktion mit seinem Theater zu gewinnen. Das war die Bluthochzeit nach Frederico García Lorca. Im Herbst 1991 gelang es Ciulli dank der Unterstützung des Landes Nordrhein-Westfalen und des Ministeriums für Stadtentwicklung, Kultur und Sport, das Theater Pralipe als festes und unabhängiges Ensemble in das Theater an der Ruhr aufzunehmen. Bei dieser Gelegenheit frischte Pralipe sein Ensemble auf. Zum ersten Mal engagierte es Nichtroma-Schauspieler aus Mazedonien und Serbien. Auch hatte es jetzt zwei studierte Roma-Schauspieler in seinen Reihen – Nedjo Osman und Ruis Kadirova – die zu einer neuen Dimension der Arbeit und der Professionalität beitrugen. Die Bluthochzeit, deren Premiere im Januar 1991 in Mülheim an der Ruhr stattfand, war ein sensationeller Erfolg. In den folgenden Jahren wurde sie fast 400 Mal in ganz Deutschland und Europa gezeigt. Der Erfolg von Pralipe in Deutschland war einmalig und überraschend, zumal es sich um ein Theater aus dem Ausland mit einer völlig unbekannten Bühnensprache handelte. Pralipe wollte Theater an- Zekai Fenerci bieten, war aber auch bestrebt, dem Publikum die Kultur und die Sprache der Roma nahezubringen. In jenen Jahren erfüllte das Roma-Theater eine Botschafterrolle, insbesondere auf seiner Tournee Kultur gegen Gewalt. Nach den Anschlägen in Hoyerswerda und Solingen wollte es mit Aufführungen in vielen deutschen Städten ein Zeichen der Empörung gegen die offene Fremdenfeindlichkeit setzen. Das war eine politische Agitation gegen den ungeheuren Hass und die damals noch nicht klar definierte rechte Gewalt gegen Ausländer. Auf dieser Tournee stand das Ensemble täglich unter Polizeischutz, denn die Theaterauftritte waren ein Signal der Solidarität mit den ›unerwünschten und feindlichen Gästen‹. Mit seinen Auftritten und seinen außerordentlich wichtigen, ausschließlich auf Romanes gespielten Darbietungen trat Pralipe eine Lawine der Erfolge, der Medienpräsenz, des nie da gewesenen Interesses, der Euphorie los. Nedjo Osman war fast täglich im Fernsehen und in den Zeitungen präsent, auf der Straße umringten ihn Scharen von Fans. Ein besonderes Erlebnis war die Aufführung von Romeo und Julija im Wiener Burgtheater, wo das Publikum nach dem letzten Vorhang zehn Minuten lang »Romeo, Romeo« skandierte. Der Romeo Nedjo Osman stand vor mehr als 1.000 Menschen sichtbar gerührt allein auf der Bühne. Soweit die Beispiele zum Märchen vom PralipeTheater. Diese Tournee veränderte unser Bild von Deutschland und den Deutschen. Nicht alles war mehr schwarz, nicht alles, was glänzte, war Gold, nicht alle Menschen waren gleich. Ja, einen solchen Erfolg wird keine andere Theatergruppe so leicht erleben. Es folgten die Premieren von Bluthochzeit, Othello, Romeo und Julia, Das große Wasser, Sieben gegen Theben, weitere Gastspiele in beinahe allen Städten Deutschlands, die Teilnahme an fast allen wichtigen Festivals in Europa. Aufgrund seiner Erfolge bekam Pralipe 1992 den Deutschen Kritikerpreis als das beste Theater in Deutschland, 1994 den Ruhr-Preis für Kunst und Wissenschaft und viele andere Anerkennungen und lobende Kritiken aus Deutschland und anderen Ländern. Diese Geschichte vom Roma-Theater Pralipe begann mit seiner Besonderheit, Unwahrscheinlichkeit und Faszination. Aber wie endete sie? Auf viele Erfolge und hervorragende Ergebnisse folgten 1995 einige Veränderungen im Klima und in der Arbeit des Ensembles. Im Jahre 2002 löste sich Pralipe vom Theater an der Ruhr und 269 versuchte, ohne die bewährte Unterstützung und Infrastruktur als unabhängiges Ensemble zu bestehen. Nach mehreren Versuchen und einigen Projekten in Düsseldorf sowie zwei Jahre später in Köln erzielte es nicht annähernd so gute Ergebnisse wie in der Zeit, als es Deutschland und Europa für sich gewonnen hatte. 2004 kam das Ende der Pralipe-Theaterodyssee. Mir wurde klar, dass einen Schauspieler nicht nur seine Rolle auf der Bühne ausmacht, sondern auch die Rolle, die ihn sein Leben lang begleitet. Dass das Theater nicht nur Unterhaltung ist, sondern auch ein Spiegel, der sich mit der Wirklichkeit auseinandersetzt und sie Wirklichkeit verändert. Und noch etwas: dass meine Rolle als Roma-Schauspieler, Übersetzer und Kulturvermittler zwei Ziele hat – ein künstlerisches, aber auch das eines Menschen, eines Rom, der bemüht ist, das Bild vom Roma-Volk zu verändern. Zekai Fenerci p.72 Fighting on Te rodas pala amáro thaj tena das amen Te keras vorba: Milena Yolova, Lajos Gabor (Romano Drom e.V.) Prevod: Beata Burakowska Romano Drom Hagen e.V. puterdźilo (biandilo) ando séptembri 2019 berś aj kadi (kaja) romani organizacja (inicjativa) phangli si katar e Roma, so aven bute themendar thaj bute phuvendar. Kadala aktivistura aven andar Rumunia, Bulgaria, Ungro thaj andar Serbia, keren svato (den vorba) ande ochto čhiben. Von kamen (mangen) inke majbut manuśa tě aven lende, andar bute themen, so den dúma ande bute ćhiben. So majbut nacjonalitetura si andi organizacja, sa majśukar si kava. Aj vi Gaźe, so angaźirinpe thaj si aktivne, si ande amári organizacja. Fabian Saavedra-Lara (FSL): Laćho dźes thaj but baxt sastimos tumenge ando Hagen! San akana ando biuro (bući)? Milena Yolova (MY): Var (jo), amen sam kate, ande amári inicjativa. Me sem i Milena Yolova, me avav andar Bulgaria thaj me sem Romni. FSL: Si kava ćaćo, ka tu san andi grupa, so phiraven kadi (kaja) inicjativa Romano Drom? MY: Kava si ćaćimos, me sem i dújto, so phiravas amári organizacja thaj o Lajos Gabor si kate paśa mande. Lajos Gabor (LG): Tě aves baxtalo, me sem o Lajos Gabor. Me avav andar Rumunia, andar Transsilvania, me dav vorba ande śtáre ćhiben: rumunycka, romanes, ungrika thaj namcycka (germanikani ćhib). Vi me sem Rom. MY: Sa amáre amala den vorba ande majbuten ćhiben. FSL: Kames te phenes mange ek cera vaś (paj) historia tumáre organizacjaki? MY: Amári inicjativa sas puterdi ando séptembri 2019 thaj buśol (akharelpe) Romano Drom. Kado buśol (znaćil): o drom e Romengo. Ke ćaćimasa, amen e Roma sam sorodźes ando drom. Me kerdem eftta berś bući andi Italia, apal avilem tě rodav bući ando Namco (Germania). Ando 2015 berś but avile kate andar Bulgaria thaj andar Rumunia. Amári inicjativa źutil bute Romen thaj vi Gaźen, kote ka trobuj źutimos, kote zumavas te źutinas; tě dav tut priklado, ande socjalne bućia, andi śkola, ande sastimasqe bućia, po Jobcenter, sa so śaj źutisaras. Amen keras but projektura. Kuko berś źutisardam bute manuśenge, so sas andi 270 quarantana, źasas tě kinas lenge, so trobulas len, sako felo, vi dezynfekcje pe vasta kinasas lenge. Dav man gindo, so kerdam inke (joś)? LG: Amen kidam e ćhavorrenge khelimasqe bućia, tě śaj khelenpe. Amen kapindam (dubindam) xabe thaj dasas, ulavasas les majdur maśkar e manuśa, so trobuj len źutimos. Akana keras bući kethane e forosa Hagen, amen sam andi kooperacja e Quartiersmanagement thaj vi o Werkhof kerel amenca jekh projekto, so akharelpe Mietführerschein FSL: Sar si tumenge akana andi inicjativa, ande kadi aktualono sytuacja, ka si i pandemia? LG: I sytuacja kerdili majćori, butivar majphares si e manuśenge tě arakhen penge bući. Averenge pale ni poćinen love katar o Jobcenter. Kado buśul (znaćyl), ka e manuśen naj love thaj ći birin tě poćinen penge khera. Kava (kado) si but vaśno (important) thaj jekh báro punkto si kado ando Hagen: te dikhen, sar sigo (fugo) but manuśa xasarde penge bućia. MY: Amen sam manuśa, so źutinas thaj keras vorba (vakeras) po Jobcenter thaj phenas lenge, ke andi pandemia but manuśa aćhile bi bućiako. Keras kadia, ka apal e manuśa len penge love pala varisosko ćaso. Aj vi bute manuśenge del e foroski krisi avri, tě mukhen penge khera, thaj musaj lenge tě dźan avri, aćhon bi khersqo thaj pala kado musaj tě dźan ande forosqe khera (hajmura). Amen źutinas sar birinas, boldas (tlumaćhinas) paj jekh ćhib pi aver. Bute manuśenge si but phares, tě arakhen penge kher (stano). Amen keras vorba anda kadala manuśa thaj sam sar lengo gláso. FSL: Kaći (kabor) manuśa keren bući (buti) ando Romano Drom? MY: Amen sam kadia deś manuśa. LG: Amen sam na feri (samo) Roma andar Rumunia thaj Bulgaria, vi dúj si andar Namco (Germania) thaj von si amende ando Verein. FSL: Tu phendan (pomenindan) majanglal paj (vaś) jekh projekto, so akharelpe (buśol) Mietführerschein, śaj phenes paj sos dźal ande kado projekto? LG: O Mietführerschein si jekh projekto manuśenge, so si interesime tě siklon (sićon) sa paj kheresqe bućia: Von sićon, so si jekh kheresqo kontrakto? So trobuj o raj e kherseqo tě kerel, aj so naj leske musaj tě kerel ando kher? Kado projekto dźal pandź dźes. Kana variko kerel amende kado projekto, naj apal kadia phares tě arakhel peske kher. Ande kado lil Amela Halilovic, Erwin Rosenfelder Mietführerschein si ramosardo (iskirime), so voj*vov sićilo ande kava projekto. O fiśkarośi (advokato) phenel lenge, so si lengo pravo, so si lenge slobodo, aj so si lenge musaj tě keren ando kher. Kodo/kodi, so lel o kher, tě kamel śaj kerel amenca kontrakto thaj amen ando jekh intrego berś źutinas les ande kheresqe bućia. Kado keras bi lovengo, naj musaj khanci tě poćinen. Amen dźas lende khere, tě dikhas sar beśelpe lenge ando kher, si sa miśto, vaj kam trobuj le źutimo. FSL: Tu san aba but ćaso ando Hagen aktivno. Sar dikhes tu, so parudilas (parudaspe) ande palune berśa? Jo (var) but kerdolpe andi politika ando Namco (Germania). Aj vi musaj tě phenav, ka but bućia andi politika keren amenge bári bríga. So phendanas: mejk avilan kate, sar gejlas ćiri bući majdur? MY: Me gindonav, ke de katar 2016 berś but Roma ando Namco miśto (laćhes) integrime si. Na sa, ali but andar len. Buten si laćhi bući thaj len penge love sako ćhon (śon). Amen but kate sićilam ande kadala trín berś, śkolindam amen majdur thaj źasas pe seminarura. LG: Aj vi amen sam manuśa, so keras śkolaki mediacja. Kadia, śaj źutinas bute manuśenge, savala ći źanen germanikani ćhib. Nesave (uni) manuśa ći źanen tě drabaren (ginaven) thaj tě ramosaren (iskirin), anda kava von ći haćáren e lila, so aven lende. But mangen (kamen) tě sićon thaj majdur tě den kado, so sićile. FSL: Jekh anda bućia, aspektura e trájosqe, so majbut xibazin (brakuil) amen si o kontakto avere manuśenca. Kathar i organizacja Förderfonds Interkultur Ruhr, so si jekh organizacja, savi kidel love po źutimo aśundem, ke tumen redovno jekh festo (pativ) keren, aj kava festo akharelpe Avilem Avilem. Kado si besex, ke akana naśti tě keren kasavo kidimos, kam śaj phendanas variso paj kado festo? LG: Jo, amen kidisajlam (maladilam) aba dúj droma. MY: Thaj kado si amenge vaśno, ke amen kamas vi ande kadala ćasura jekh pozitivno historia e Romengi tě sikavas. Amem sam manuśa sar vi sa ávera, manuśa, so si len laćhe, aj vi ćore riga, but bućia źanas miśto, aj but bućia trobunas tě sićuvas. LG: But manuśa lośan pe kadi paćiv (festo), aj vi Nemcura aven kote. Kado si amenge báro, variso specjalno. FSL: Soske reakcje aven e manuśendar paj 271 tumári bući? So phenen tumenge avera? MY: Butivar aśunas, ke laćhi bući keras. Butenge si śukar, sar aktivno si amári inicjativa. LG: Amen sam tlumaćhura, boldas paj jekh ćhib pi aver, das informacje thaj keras svato (vorba) e manuśenca, kamas tě źutinas e manuśenge tě arakhen penge kher, tě dźan po kurso tě sićon i ćhib thaj e ćhavorra tě śaj dźan ande laćhi śkola. FSL: Me gindonav, ka kadi oferta si ande kadala pháre ćasura but vaśno (important) thaj e manuśen trobuj kasavo źutimos. So kamlanas majdúr, sar tě dźan tumáre bućia ande tumári organizacja majángle? MY: Me kamlemas (me mangav) majbut manuśa tě aven amende thaj tě śaj arakhas lenge laćhi bući, tena aven pangle katar o Jobcenter. LG: I bući si kadi, ka e ćhavorra si amenge amáro „tehara“ sar avla majángle, sa ande lenge vasta aćhola. E ćhavorren trobul laćhi śkola, trobuj tě śkolinpe majdúr, tě śaj arakhen penge laćhi bući. Kado (kava) si vaśno aspekto: tena das amen thaj tě rodas majdúr amáre ćhavorrenge. MY: Amen keras sićimasqe (sikavne) grupy. Pala śkola śaj aven amende e ćhavorre duvar (dúj droma) ando kurko thaj amáre amalesa śaj keren penge śkolaqe bućia, aj vi śaj sićon majlaćhes i ćhib. FSL: Pe tumáre bućia mangav tumenge sa o majlaćho! Trobunas tě paćas, ke e ćasura avena majlaćhe thaj majśukara. Naisarav (chvala) tumenge śukares, ka kadia drágo vorbindan (kerdan svato) manca! Amela Halilovic, Erwin Rosenfelder p.92 »Her name is FasÍa. It's a Vai name, you know?« »O nome dela é FasÍa. Um nome Vai, sabiam?« De: Princela Biyaa, Marny Garcia Mommertz Tradução: Jess Oliveira und Raquel Alves Princela Biyaa é palestrante na área da educação e se movimenta com frequência entre o Vale do Ruhr e Berlim, desempenhando a função de trabalhadora da cultura. Marny Garcia Mommertz é curadora e produtora cultural com experiência em instituições e em coletivos na América do Sul e na Europa Biyaa e Mommertz desenvolvem juntas uma pesquisa artística sobre Fasia Jansen. »O nome dela é FasÍa. Sei que vocês da Alemanha gostam de pronunciar o nome dela sem a entonação no »i«, mas pronunciá-lo com esta entonação é fazê-lo corretamente. O nome dela é Vai, sabiam? Somos Vai!1« Esta foi uma das primeiras coisas que Vivian Seton, sobrinha de Fasia Jansen, contou a nós, Princela Biyaa e Marny Garcia Mommertz, sobre sua amada tia. Fasia Jansen, Negra alemã, nasceu em 1928 em Hamburgo, foi compositora, musicista e ativista pela paz. Após ter sobrevivido ao Holocausto, ela se mudou para o Vale do Ruhr, onde apoiou iniciativas como a Hoesch-Frauen2 [mulheres Hoesch] com seu compromisso político e talento musical. Ela morreu em Oberhausen em 1997. Seu trabalho e realizações no Vale do Ruhr, sentidos até hoje, resultaram no anúncio por parte da organização Interkultur Ruhr [Intercultura Ruhr] e do Internationales Frauen* Film Fest Dortmund + Köln (IFFF) [Festival Internacional de Cinema de Mulheres] de uma residência de pesquisa artística de dois meses. Nos inscrevemos juntas para refletir sobre como a vida de Fasia Jansen poderia ser vista a partir de perspectivas de pessoas Negras alemãs. Esse desejo se tornou um plano em comum, pois após visitarmos a ex-companheira de Fasia Jansen, Ellen Dietrich, em Oberhausen em maio de 2020, tivemos uma melhor dimensão do quanto sobre Fasia Jansen havia sido coletado e arquivado. Ao mesmo tempo, no entanto, ficou nítido que esse material era 272 composto predominantemente por fontes coletadas e produzidas por autoras brancas-alemãs feministas. Em outubro de 2020, já em processo de preparação para o primeiro mês de residência, fomos entendendo, a partir de repetidas ocasiões, que a maioria do material arquivado existente não tornava mais fácil nosso acesso à Fasia Jansen e à sua história. Foi difícil para nós estabelecermos uma conexão com a pessoa Fasia Jansen ou encontrar pontos de contato mais íntimos apenas por meio desses materiais. Para avançar aqui e poder conhecê-la melhor, procuramos encontrar pessoas Negras que tiveram contato direto com Fasia Jansen diretamente. Uma questão central que acompanhou nossa pesquisa foi a indagação acerca da atitude de Fasia Jansen, tanto em relação à sua própria negritude global quanto em relação ao Movimento Negro Alemão (Afrodeutsche Bewegung). As extensas entrevistas que a pesquisadora e cientista Negra estadunidense Tina Campt conduziu com Fasia Jansen no ano de 1992 foram particularmente úteis aqui. É preciso reconhecer que a entrevista em que Tina Campt perguntou a Fasia Jansen especificamente sobre sua negritude se tornou um ponto de inflexão para nossa pesquisa, já que ouvimos pouco sobre esses aspectos nas canções, cartas ou entrevistas escritas de Fasia Jansen. Ouvir sua voz suave e, às vezes, tranquila falando sobre sua identidade Negra, ouvi-la refletir, tornou-a mais acessível para nós. »Eu, por mim mesma, não me designei – em si e nem de outra maneira – de afroalemã. Não trabalho muito no Movimento, no Movimento Alemão-africano. Pelo contrário, sempre trabalhei com pessoas alemãs brancas ou com outras pessoas estrangeiras, e eu meio que, somente há poucos anos tenho pensado nisso, que não se pode simplesmente dizer: sou alemã, sou afroalemã... nada disso existia quando eu era jovem, essa juventude afroalemã é muito mais jovem do que eu... Não existia tal união de pessoas afroalemãs e, portanto, não existia essa consciência de ser afroalemã... Eles sempre fazem você sentir que, de certa forma, não é alemã de verdade« (Fasia Jansen, Entrevista concedida à Tina Campt, Oberhausen, Alemanha 02/02/1992) A entrevista de Tina Campt ofereceu à Fasia Amela Halilovic, Erwin Rosenfelder Jansen o espaço não apenas para falar sobre sua negritude, mas também para refletir sobre sua própria posição na sociedade alemã. Ficamos surpresas ao descobrir que esta foi (e ainda é) a única reflexão profunda que pudemos encontrar de Fasia Jansen sobre sua identidade Negra alemã. A entrevista nos proporcionou respostas a questões que antes estavam em aberto e que, como vimos, apenas a própria Fasia Jansen poderia responder através da entrevista com Tina Campt. Depois de, por exemplo, Ellen Dietrich ter compartilhado alguns escritos pessoais de Fasia Jansen conosco, notamos que quase não havia anotações manuscritas ou passagens de diário dela. Isso nos pareceu estranho, porque várias pessoas próximas a Fasia Jansen nos disseram que ela costumava manter um diário e que eles ainda existiam. Em sua entrevista, ela disse a Tina Campt: »Eu acabei de jogar fora um monte de diários. Tudo desabou. Eles eram tão horríveis. Eu só não quero isso... Eu não quero isso. Eu não quero isso! Eu gostaria de ter queimado tudo. Isso mesmo, gostaria de ter queimado tudo. Eu não quero isso, eu gostaria de estar em algum lugar, quase nua, com o conhecimento que tenho agora. Tenho paixão por colecionar. Comigo você pode encontrar artigos de 1947, é como no arquivo. E agora eu limpei. Sacos inteiros cheios.« (Fasia Jansen, Entrevista concedida à Tina Campt, Oberhausen, Alemanha 04/02/1992). O fato de Fasia Jansen ter tornado seus escritos íntimos inacessíveis à posteridade e de, ao mesmo tempo, o arquivamento ser muito importante para ela, fez emergir a seguinte questão para nós: até que ponto queremos e podemos adentrar na vida de Fasia Jansen? Além disso, surgiram outras perguntas e questões fundamentais sobre arquivamento e destruição de arquivos, que pretendemos desenvolver mais intensivamente em nosso segundo mês de residência. Seguiremos nosso trabalho conversando com uma outra pessoa, cujo relato nos ofereceu aspectos não documentados sobre a vida de Fasia Jansen. Vivian Seton que é sua sobrinha e já foi citada no início compartilhou conosco perspectivas valiosas de quão importante sua família preta era para Fasia Jansen. Ela nos relata: »Em 1968 minha mãe e eu estávamos em Hamburgo, na Alemanha. Nós ligamos para Fasia em 273 Oberhausen para avisá-la que havíamos chegado. Isso foi por volta das oito horas da noite e estava ficando tarde. Você acredita… No dia seguinte às sete horas da manhã a campainha tocou. Era Fasia que estava à porta. Você acredita! Ela viajou a noite toda para chegar lá e nos ver. Ela ficou conosco por um mês e foi lindo. Como você pode ver Fasia e minha mãe eram bem próximas. Elas eram irmãs. Eu diria até que minha mãe era uma das pessoas de quem Fasia era muito próxima.« (Seton/Biyaa/Mommenrtz, 2020) Vivian Seton é a única filha da Princesa Fatima Massaquoi, irmã de Fasia Jansen. A mãe dela e a tia eram filhas do Cônsul-geral da Libéria Momolu Massaquoi e viveram na década de 1930 em Hamburgo. Em nossa conversa ficou logo evidente, porque Vivian Seton é considerada a guardiã da história de sua família. Ela tem uma memória fotográfica e se lembra vividamente de histórias que foram contadas a ela na infância, bem como de diversas vivências familiares. Devido a seu talento extraordinário de contar histórias, nós logo tivemos uma noção geral de quem eram e são os Vai, e sobretudo, de como o ativismo político e liderança se manteve por diferentes gerações da família Massaquoi. Vivian nos contou sobre sua bisavó, a Rainha Fatima Sandmannie, avó paterna de Fasia Jansen: »VS: Ela [Rainha Fatima Sandimannie] foi casada com um homem chamado Rei Armmar. Mas Armmar era mais velho e não viveu muito. Então, quando ele morreu o trono teria passado naturalmente para seu irmão, pois seus filhos ainda não estavam prontos. Então minha bisavó lutou com ele. Ela disse que não queria que ele se tornasse rei do povo Vai ao redor do lago Piso. Se você olhar no mapa verá que na Libéria há um lago com este nome [...]. Então, ela lutou com Armmar e ganhou. Ela mesma foi para a batalha. MGM: Espera aí, Calma. Ela lutou, tipo fisicamente? VS: Sim, uma luta física! MGM: Com o quê? VS: Com uma lança. MGM: Ela lutou contra ele com uma lança? VS: Sim, estou lhes contando que sim! Ela lutou fisicamente. A luta durou alguns anos. Ela era uma mulher forte. Uma mulher corajosa. [...] A avó de minha mãe. Minha bisavó. Eu preciso escrever essa história, pois ela vai te contar sobre Ayşe Güleç mim. A mulher da qual eu descendo era uma líder [...]. Depois ela se casou com o Rei Lahai Kayamba, um rei Massaquoi, que era bem mais jovem que ela [...]. Como os Massaquoi eram muito poderosos, eles sempre entravam em confrontos [com outras pessoas] e como resultado ela deu à luz a meu avô [Momolu Massaquoi] no campo de batalha debaixo de um pé de obi[...]. Ela teve ele alí e seu cordão umbilical foi enterrado debaixo do pé de obi [...]. Sabe, em África a árvore de obi tem muita importância.« (Seton/ Mommertz 2020). Além da vida de sua bisavó, Vivian Seton nos contou também sobre a extraordinária vida da Princesa Fatima Massaquoi, sua mãe, que pode ser lida em seu livro An Autobiography of an African Princess [Autobiografia de uma princesa africana], de 2013. Na década de 1930, depois que Momolu Massaquoi retornou de Hamburgo para a Libéria, a Princesa Fatima Massaquoi lecionou na Universidade de Hamburgo no lugar dele. Durante a guerra, ela ainda permanece muitos anos na Alemanha, antes de emigrar para os Estados Unidos. Nessa época ela não teve contato com sua irmã Fasia. »Vocês têm que entender as circunstâncias em que elas se encontravam. Tudo era monitorado, e enviar uma carta dos Estados Unidos para a Alemanha era perigoso e poderia levantar questionamentos e gerar problemas.« (Seton/ Biyaa/ Mommertz, 2020). O que ficou da conversa com Vivian Seton são as muitas ligações e referências que ela nos forneceu, e acima de tudo, o vislumbre sobre a história de sua família. Como resultado da conversa sobre Fasia Jansen, tivemos, na verdade, uma conversa sobre a vida da família Massaquoi e, sobretudo, da irmã de Fasia Jansen, Fatima Massaquoi, que nos abriu muitas questões e novas perspectivas. Isso inclui, por exemplo, que uma mulher Negra estudava e lecionava na década de 1930 em universidades na Alemanha. Como teriam sido as experiências de Fatima Massaquoi durante o nacional-socialismo? Algumas experiências de Fasia Jansen nesse período estão documentadas e podem ser lidas em FASIA - Geliebte Rebellin [FASIA – Amada Rebelde], de Marina Achenbach, de 2004. O livro 274 retrata a trajetória de vida de Fasia Jansen desde sua infância na classe trabalhadora de Hamburgo com sua mãe, avó e padrasto – um operário comunista que foi o guia para a ativista política que Fasia se tornaria mais tarde –, passa por suas experiências traumáticas durante o regime nazista, até sua mudança para o Vale do Ruhr e seu posterior engajamento político na região. Agora, no início de nosso segundo mês de residência, estamos diante da questão de como associar todos os fragmentos descritos anteriormente. Nos primeiros meses de 2021, iremos nos debruçar sobre esse e outros questionamentos envolvendo pessoas que passaram pela vida de Fasia Jansen. Compreendemos nossa residência como um processo, ou seja, uma discussão que, mesmo depois do final oficial da residência, terá continuidade. Agradecimentos Agradecemos a Vivian Seton, que com grande paixão e transparência, compartilhou tanto sobre sua família e a Ellen Dietrich pelas conversas emocionantes e refeições deliciosas que continuaremos compartilhando em 2021. Além disso, agradecemos de coração a Tina Campt pela digitalização e fornecimento das fitas de suas entrevistas com Fasia Jansen. Nós estamos gratas por poder utilizar o trabalho dela como um de nossos pilares de pesquisa. 1 O povo vai é da região oeste do continente africano e hoje vive principalmente na Libéria. 2 Texto da seleção disponível em: https://interkultur.ruhr/kalender/ruhrgebiet-inbewegung-fasia-jansen-ausschreibung-einerkuenstlerischen-recherche-residenz Acesso 12 de abr. de 2021. Referências Fasia Jansen, Interview with Tina Campt, Oberhausen 02.02.1992. Fasia Jansen, Interview with Tina Campt, Oberhausen 04.02.1992. Marina Achenbach u.a., Fasia – geliebte Rebellin (org.) Fasia-Jansen-Stiftung: Oberhausen 2004. Vivian Seton, Interview mit Marny Garcia Mommertz, Whatsapp 14.12.2020. Vivian Seton, Interview mit Princela Biyaa und Marny Garcia Mommertz, Whatsapp 22.10.2020. Ayşe Güleç p.128 Hüseyin Çölgeçen: from Ortadoğu to Oberhausen Hüseyin Çölgeçen: Ortadoğu’dan Oberhausen’a Yazarlar: Yasemin Çölgeçen, Aylin Kreckel Çeviri: Çiler Fırtına Yasemin Çölgeçen Toplumsal Cinsiyet Çalışmaları ve Sosyal Bilimler okuyor. Aylin Kreckel Kuzey Ren-Vestfalya eyaletinde bağımsız kültür çevresinde dramaturg ve yapımcı olarak çalışıyor. Çalışmalarının ağırlık alanları feminizm, ırkçılığa karşı mücadele, kapitalizm ve ideoloji eleştirisidir. “Dört kişi başlarını yeni yapılmış modern kitapçının vitrinine uzatmış, heyecandan büyümüş gözlerle kitaplara bakıyorlardı.” Bu anlatı Hüseyin Çölgeçen’in 60’lı yılların sonunda Türkçe bir gazetede yayınlanan Bizi Kurtar ya Şıh Hazin adlı öyküsünün başkarakterinin izleğinden bir sahne. Öyküde bahsi geçen başkarakter ile civar köylerde yaşayan ve Türkçe bilmeyen dört kişi bir tercüman yardımıyla sohbet etmeye başlar. Aralarından biri köy yaşamının sınırlı kaynaklarını, yetersiz eğitimini, kötü sağlık hizmetlerini ve kötü altyapıyı anlatır. Kitabevi mevzusundan başlayan diyaloğu içeren bu öykü, bize Hüseyin’in eğitime, eğitimin siyasi ve toplumsal etkinleştirme ve yetkilendirme gücüne olan ilgisini, onun insanların anlaşma ve işçi sınıfıyla birlik oluşturma çabalarını ve hayalindeki bu anlaşmanın başlayıp devam edebileceği yeri anlatır. Bizim bir yer ve aynı zamanda bir sembol olarak kavradığımız o kitabevi aslında bir yaşam ve göç hikâyesinin başlangıcı, ideali, yolu, motivasyonu ve amacıdır. Hüseyin’in, tekil ilgilerin, koşulların ve kararların belirlediği hikayesi benzersizdir. Onun hikayesi her ne kadar Türk işçi göçmenlerin hikayeleri için bir paradigma olmasa da, tecrübeler ile dopdoludur ve Hüseyin bu tecrübelerini ailesiyle, entelektüellerle, fabrika işçileri, öğretmenler, Türk’ler ve Alman’lar ile paylaşmıştır. Yukarıda alıntılan bölüm 1971’de Almanya’ya göç eden ve 1995’de Oberhausen‘da yaşamı- 275 nı yitiren büyükbabamız Hüseyin Çölgeçen’in çalışma ve eserlerine dair küçük bir bakış açısı sunuyor. Elimizde bulunan birçok fragmandan birisi olan bu öykü bizlere bir yandan yeni fikirler verirken, diğer yandan sorularla karşı karşıya bırakıyor. Büyükbabamızın hayatına tanıklık eden metinler, öyküler ve fotoğraflar yamalı eski bir kilimin parçaları gibi karşımızda duruyor. O kenarlarından binlerce iplik sarkan parçalardan bir kilim dokunsun isterdik. Bu metin ile o ipliklerden bazılarının ucundan tutarak Oberhausen’da bir kitap ve yayınevinde biten güzergahını takip etmek istiyoruz. Hüseyin Çölgeçen 15.12.1948’de Denizli’nin ilçesi olan Tavas’ta doğdu. Türkiye’de İngilizce öğretmenliği bölümünü bitirdi. Siirt, Denizli ve Kars’ta devlet okullarında çalıştı. Hümanist sol liberal duruşuyla 1960’ların başından itibaren entelektüel ve liberal Türk çevreleriyle birlikte çalıştı. Özgürlükçü öğretmenlerin kurduğu Türkiye Öğretmenler Sendikası’nda aktif olarak yer aldı. Yine bu duruşla sol edebiyat çevreleriyle ilişkilendi. Yayınlanan köşe yazılarıyla ve diğer makaleleriyle her şeyden önce insan hakları, işçilerin hakları ve gençlerin eğitimi ile ilgili düşünsel bir değişim süreci için çalıştı. Onun Türkiye’de geçen zamanını aydınlatan az sayıdaki kaynaklardan biri 1969 yılında devletin tüm baskı ve tehditlerine rağmen Denizli’de öğretmen sendikası başkanıyken, öğretmenlerin hakları için yaptığı bir konuşmanın haberi. Bu konuşma bir girdap etkisi yaratarak onun okuldaki görevinden açığa alınmasını beraberinde getirdi. Sendikalar ve hükümet güçlerinin kutuplaştığı bu süreçte gelişen olaylarla ilgili Hüseyin Çölgeçen de eleştirilerinin dozunu yükseltti. Türkiye’de 1940’lı yıllarda eğitim ve olgunlaşma kurumları olarak kurulan Köy Enstitüleri ile ilgilendi. Bunlar kırsal bölgelerde kapsamlı bir eğitimi özendirmek üzere öğretmenler için kurulmuş eğitim merkezleriydi. Köy Enstitülerinde ayrıca sanatsal ve tarımsal zanaatlar da öğretiliyordu. (Oran 2001: 36ff) Orada eğitim gören öğretmenlerin köy halkının haklarına empati ile yaklaşmaları, onlara bilginin yanı sıra örneğin cinsiyet eşitliğinin sağlanması gibi değerleri de aktarmaları isteniyordu. (Ricken 2007: 405) Hüseyin’in de içinde olduğu liberal çevreler, kırsal kesimde yaşayan halkın eğitim yoluyla güçlendirilmesi bağlamında, eğitim kurumlarının düzenlenmesiyle ilgiliydiler. Köy Enstitüleri en nihayetinde 1954’te, yani Hüseyin’in faaliyetlerinden önce, “yıkıcı komünist düşüncenin yayıl- Ayşe Güleç ma yerleri” ilan edilerek tamamıyla kapatılmış olsa da, o Köy Enstitüleri düşüncesinden kalıcı olarak etkilendi.1 Daha sonra Almanya’da o dönem Türkiye’deki politik kutuplaşmaya neden olan Köy Enstitüleri ile ilgili referans alınan bir kitap yayınladı. 1969 yılında askerlik görevini yedek subay olarak Kars’ta tamamladı, daha sonra öğretmenlik görevine geri döndü. Hakkındaki geçici çalışma yasağı kaldırılmıştı, fakat Türkiye’de ideallerini gerçekleştirmesi önündeki politik engeller devam ediyordu. Dalaman’da bir kağıt fabrikasında tercüman olarak çalışma teklifi cazip geldi ve Hüseyin öğretmenliği tamamen bıraktı. Fabrikada Alman mesai arkadaşlarıyla ilişkileri üzerinden Almanca öğrenmeye başladı. Eşi, yoldaşı ve destekleyicisi Münevver Çölgeçen ve Hüseyin Almanya’yı demokratik ve liberal bir ülke olarak düşünüyorlardı: “Avrupa dediğinde, modern olanı, güzel olanı kastediyordun.” (Çölgeçen 2020) Münevver’in kızları Günfer ve Nilüfer için daha iyi eğitim olanaklarını mümkün kılma isteği Almanya’ya gelme kararında belirleyici oldu. Türkiye’deki politik perspektifsizlik, daha iyi bir yaşam ve daha iyi eğitim umudu göç etmeyi beraberinde getirdi. 1971 yılında dört kişilik aile bütün bilgileri ve kültürünün etkileri ile Almanya’ya göç etti. Çölgeçen çifti önce Stammbach’ta bir tekstil fabrikasında çalışmaya başladı. Münevver terzi, Hüseyin ise koordinatör olarak çalışıyordu. Hüseyin işinin yanı sıra gönüllü olarak çalışanlar için tercümanlık ve aracılık yapıyordu. Öğretmenlik için çalışma iznini aldıktan sonra aile 1972 yılında Oberhausen’a taşındı. İşte ailemizin göç hikayesi böyle kişisel isteklerden ve varoluşsal zorunluluklardan, ama aynı zamanda eğitim politikasıyla ilişkili ideallerden ve tartışmalardan beslenerek başladı. Hüseyin’i diğer pek çok misafir işçiden ayıran onun Almanya’ya bir fabrika işçisi olarak değil, bir entelektüel olarak gelmesiydi. O, bu yönüyle Türk göçmen hareketi içinde bir azınlık oluşturuyordu. Göçle birlikte olanakları da umduğu gibi değişti. Almanya’da yeni politik koşullar altında; göçmenlerden, ilgili çevrelerden, arkadaşlarından ve ailesinden oluşan ilişki ağlarıyla bir kitabevi açma isteğini gerçekleştirebildi ve devam etme olanağı buldu. Eleştirdiği muhafazakar ideolojilere, devletin gerici kurumlarına ve eğitim sistemlerine karşı 1980’li yıllarda Oberhausen’da Ortadoğu adı altında bir kitabevi ve ona bağlı olarak basım ve yayınevi kurdu. 276 Kitabevi değişik çevrelerden insanların, öncelikle de entelektüellerin, politika ve kültürle ilgili kesimlerin fikir alışverişi yaptıkları ve buluştukları bir mekan oldu. Türkiye’den gelen muhalifler ve edebiyatçılar için adeta bir başvuru ve sığınma noktasıydı. Bunların arasında en bilinenlerden biri Hüseyin’in birkaç kitabını yayınladığı Fakir Baykurt’tu. Hüseyin çeşitli yazarların şiirlerini, öykülerini, romanlarını, masallarını, çocuk öykülerini ve okul kitaplarını itinayla seçiyor ve yayınlıyordu. Kitabevinde sattığı kitapların çoğu kendisinin baskıya verdiği veya editörlüğünü yaptığı kitaplardı. Ortadoğu onun için entelektüel çalışmalarını pratiğe dökebildiği, el becerilerini baskı makineleriyle birleştirebildiği bir yerdi. Hüseyin yazarları kitap yazmaları konusunda sürekli cesaretlendiriyordu. Yayınladığı iki dilli kitaplarla Türkler ve Almanlar arasında kültürel alışverişi özendirmek istiyordu. Kendi seçkisiyle oluşturduğu kitaplarla düzenli kitap standları organize ediyordu ve böylece insanlarla kitapları ve düşünceleri üzerine konuşma olanağı bulabiliyordu. Yayınevi çalışmasının yanı sıra gençlerde bilgi, motivasyon, ilgi ve istek yaratmak için Oberhausen’da öğretmenlik yapmaya da devam ediyordu. Öğrencileri ve ona yayınevinde eşlik eden yol arkadaşları, ondan ve onunla birlikte çok şey öğrendiklerini hatırlıyorlar, tanıyanların birçoğu Hüseyin’i ilgili ve bilge bir insan olarak tanımlıyor. Hüseyin Çölgeçen’in nasıl bir insan olduğuna dair biz sonuç olarak açık bir yanıt veremeyiz. Başka biri olarak o, bizim açımızdan açıklanmayı bekleyen bir sır. Ailemizin geçmişiyle uğraşırken içerisine bizim de katıldığımız ortak bir aile hafızası açığa çıkıyor. Biz bu hafızayı kamuoyunda tartışmaya açmak ve herkes için erişilebilir ortak bir hafızaya dönüştürmek istiyoruz. Çünkü aynı zamanda biz ipliklerden ve saçaklardan onun hayatının kumaşını takip ederken, geçtiğimiz bazı kavşaklarda ailesi olan bizlerin ötesinde başkalarının da etkilendiğini görüyoruz. Hüseyin’in sürekli ilişkide olduğu ve fikir alışverişinde bulunduğu arkadaş ağı onun ideallerini ve çalışmalarını yaşamını yitirdiği 1995’ten bu yana sürdürüyorlar. Hayatının eserleri görünen ve görünmeyen izler bıraktı. Onun yarattığı dokuyu takip ettiğimizde çalışmalarının o dönemdeki göçmen edebiyat dünyası için ne kadar anlamlı olduğunu ve etkilerinin bu günlere yansıdığını anlıyoruz. Hüseyin’in bir yayıncı, öğretmen, yoldaş, bir eş, baba ve büyükbaba olarak değerli fikirlerini kendi düşüncelerimiz- Ayşe Güleç le bağladığımızda onu bugün de görebiliyoruz. Yazdıklarının, yaşam mirasının ve başka insanların onun hakkındaki anlatımlarının adım adım araştırılması Hüseyin Çölgeçen’in hayatının aydınlatılmasına olanak sağlıyor. Onun izlerini sürmeyi, bulmayı, görünür ve duyulur kılmayı görevimiz olarak görüyoruz. 1 Köy Enstitülerin kapatılmalarına rağmen kuruluş tarihi 14 Nisan’ın Türkiye’de halen her yıl kutlanması ve Kemalist entelektüel elit tabakanın oluşumundaki rolünün vurgulanması ilginçtir. Kaynaklar Sara Oran, Das Bild der Frau in der türkischen Dorfliteratur (Türk Köy Edebiyatında Kadının Yansıması) Wien 2001. Norbert Ricken, Über die Verachtung der Pädagogik. Analysen – Materialien – Perspektiven (Pedagojinin Küçümsenmesi. Analizler - Materyaller - Perspektifler), Wiesbaden 2007. Münevver Çölgeçen, Persönliches Interview (Kişisel Röportaj), 23.12.2020. 277 p.168 Multilingualism: Evidence of sociolinguistic super-diversity in the Ruhr Valley Mehrsprachigkeit: Belege soziolinguistischer Superdiversität im Ruhrgebiet Von: Bridget Fonkeu Übersetzung: Good & Cheap, Art Translators Bridget Fonkeu wurde in Kamerun geboren. Da ihre beiden Abschlüsse von der Universität Yaoundé in Deutschland nicht anerkannt wurden, beschloss sie, wieder zu studieren. 2011 machte sie ihren Master in englischer Sprachwissenschaft an der Universität Bochum, wo sie auch als Lehr- und Forschungsassistentin arbeitete. 2019 promovierte sie in englischer Soziolinguistik an der Universität Dortmund. Zurzeit ist sie Lehr- und Forschungsassistentin an der Universität Freiburg und Koordinatorin der Silent University Ruhr. Sie spricht und versteht fünf Sprachen. Die Silent University Ruhr (SUR) ist eine unabhängige Plattform zum Wissensaustausch für Einwanderer*innen. Die SUR ist der Meinung, dass Sprache niemanden daran hindern sollte, die eigenen Fähigkeiten zu entfalten. Daher werden alle Aktivitäten der SUR in mindestens drei Weltsprachen übersetzt. Eine der strategischen Einheiten der SUR ist das Sprach- und Übersetzungsreferat, das die Mehrsprachigkeit, Multikulturalität und Vielfalt des Ruhrgebiets widerspiegelt. 1. Einführung: Immigration und Mehrsprachigkeit Der deutsche soziolinguistische Raum erhebt offiziell Anspruch auf Einsprachigkeit. Meine These dagegen ist, dass Deutschland durch umfangreiche Einwanderung und die Medienvielfalt in Wirklichkeit zu einem multikulturellen und mehrsprachigen Land geworden ist. Die These dieser Arbeit stützt sich daher auf das Argument, dass es einen wesentlichen Zusammenhang zwischen Sprache und Immigration gibt. Migration ist die Bewegung von Menschen von einem Ort an einen anderen (Kerswill 2006:3). Wenn Menschen an einen anderen Ort ziehen, nehmen sie ihr kulturelles Gepäck (Bird 2001) mit. Da es sich also bei Sprache um ein Transportvehikel für Kultur handelt, symbolisiert die Migration von Eva Busch, Guy Dermosessian, Abdou Diamé Menschen in neue Umgebungen eine Kulmination von Kulturen und Sprachen, die Mehrsprachigkeit und Multikulturalismus hervorbringt. In migrantischen Lebenswelten gibt es einen Zwiespalt zwischen soziokultureller Verbundenheit und dem Bedürfnis nach sozioökonomischem Fortschritt durch die Integration in die Gemeinschaft des Ziellandes. Diese doppelte Zielsetzung – das soziolinguistische Bekenntnis zur eigenen Kultur einerseits und andererseits der Versuch, sich durch Aufsaugen der neuen Sprache und Kultur in eine neue Lebenswelt zu integrieren – haben sowohl in der Sprache des Ziellandes als auch in den Herkunftssprachen der Immigrant*innen individuelle idiosynkratische Sprachstile hervorgebracht. Kallmeyer und Keim (2003) sowie Backus et. al. (2010) stellen fest, dass Immigration Auswirkungen darauf hat, wie türkische Jugendliche ihre Muttersprache in Deutschland sprechen. Diese immigrierten Jugendlichen haben eine breite Palette an Sprachentscheidungen getroffen, um sich an die neue Umgebung anzupassen. Das Nebeneinanderstellen von Wörtern und Ausdrücken aus der türkischen und deutschen Sprache dieser Jugendlichen ist ein Beispiel dafür. Diese Tendenz des ›mixing‹ oder der ›Mischsprache‹ hat sich über die Gemeinschaft türkischer Jugendlicher hinaus verbreitet und auch nicht-türkische Gemeinschaften erfasst. Sie bestätigt so die Annahme, dass Immigration nicht nur auf die Immigrant*innen selbst, sondern auch auf die Gesellschaft des Ziellandes Auswirkungen hat. (Backus et al. 2010:487). Blommaert (2010) und Canagarajah (2017) sehen in der kontinuierlichen Bewegung von Menschen und Sprachen über Grenzen hinweg die Ursache für die Hybridität, Fluidität und Superdiversität, die heute Beziehungen zwischen Individuen und Gemeinschaften in Einwanderungskontexten auszeichnen. Zugehörigkeiten zu Gemeinschaften haben sich durch die Mobilität vervielfacht und bilden den Raum für eine soziolinguistische Superdiversität (Vertove 2007; Blommaert 2010; Canagarajah 2017). Die Verknüpfung von Migration und Sprache hat aufgrund der derzeit vorherrschenden ›neoliberalen Wirtschaft‹ (Canagarajah, 2017:33) an Bedeutung gewonnen. Basierend auf wirtschaftlichem Kapital hat die weltweite Mobilität der Arbeitskräfte zugenommen. In diesem Zusammenhang ist Sprache ein wesentliches Instrument für Kommunikation und sozioökonomischen Aufstieg. Zum Ruhrgebiet, in dem viele Immigrant*innen 278 leben, gibt es einige Studien, die die Auswirkungen des Sprachkontakts in diesem mehrsprachigen Ökosystem auf die beteiligten Sprachen erforschen. Fonkeu (2011), die sich mit dem Sprachgebrauch mehrsprachiger Immigrant*innen aus Kamerun im Ruhrgebiet auseinandersetzt, stellt im Gebrauch der verschiedenen Sprachen im Repertoire dieser Immigrant*innen eine Hybridität fest. In ihrer Untersuchung von Mehrsprachigkeit im Ruhrgebiet kommen Bernhard et al. (2012) zu dem Schluss, dass im Ruhrgebiet mit seiner 150jährigen Immigrationsgeschichte bereits seit Langem kommunale und religiöse Mehrsprachigkeit besteht. Meierkord, Fonkeu und Zumhasch (2015) dokumentieren die afrikanischen mehrsprachigen Gemeinschaften des Ruhrgebiets und stellen Voruntersuchungen zu deren sprachlichen Präferenzen an. Ziegler et al. (2016) untersuchen das Auftreten, die regionale Verteilung, die Funktionen und die Produktion von visueller Mehrsprachigkeit im Ruhrgebiet durch die Methode des »linguistic landscaping«. Alle diese Arbeiten betrachten Sprache als Vehikel für den Transfer von Kultur über Grenzen hinweg und als Werkzeug in den Händen der Immigrant*innen, um nützliche Beziehungen zu knüpfen und zu gestalten. Ein tieferes Verständnis von Mehrsprachigkeit auf gesellschaftlicher und individueller Ebene ist daher unerlässlich. Diese Koexistenz vieler Sprachen und Kulturen bedeutet, dass politische Entscheidungsträger*innen in den Bereichen Bildung und Verwaltung und auch Politiker*innen selbst die Komplexität solcher Gemeinschaften und Menschen verstehen müssen, um mit deren Belangen entsprechend umgehen zu können. Diese Studie versteht sich als Beitrag zur dringend benötigten Integration von Immigrant*innen in die deutsche Gesellschaft. In dieser Arbeit wird die Superdiversität innerhalb des mehrsprachigen Ruhrgebiets auf zwei Arten dokumentiert: durch die Ausstellung von im öffentlichen Raum sichtbarer Sprache, also der »sprachlichen Landschaft« des Ruhrgebiets und durch die Präsentation von sprachlichen Anpassungsstrategien von Sprecher*innen wie Code-Mixing und Beimischungen. 2. Mehrsprachigkeit und soziolinguistische Superdiversität im Ruhrgebiet Das Ruhrgebiet im Bundesland Nordrhein-Westfalen umfasst die Städte Bochum, Dortmund, Duisburg, Essen und Gelsenkirchen sowie im Randbereich die kleineren Städte Bottrop, Ha- Eva Busch, Guy Dermosessian, Abdou Diamé gen, Hamm, Herne, Mülheim an der Ruhr und Oberhausen. Die Industrialisierung und Urbanisierung der Region gehen auf die lange Geschichte des florierenden Bergbaus und der Eisen- und Stahlindustrie (Friedrichs 1996:135) zurück. Diese Städte ziehen Immigrant*innen aus vielen verschiedenen Ländern und Kontinenten an. Zum Teil haben sich bereits früher Migrant*innen aus bestimmten Ländern und Kontinenten in dieser Region angesiedelt, was später wiederum weitere Migrant*innen aus denselben Herkunftsländern anzog. Einige Forscher*innen beschreiben NRW als migrationsfreundlich. Da in der Region viele Unternehmen aus dem produzierenden Gewerbe angesiedelt sind, sind die Arbeitsgelegenheiten zahlreich, insbesondere für ungelernte Arbeiter*innen (Fleischer 2008). Die Immigrant*innen unterscheiden sich in ihrem Status: es handelt sich um Studierende, Männer und Frauen im Familiennachzug sowie Asylsuchende. Die Einwanderungs- und Siedlungstrends haben aufgrund des Kontakts und der Mischung von Sprachen und Kulturen zu ethnischer und linguistischer Superdiversität im Ruhrgebiet geführt (Vertovec 2007; Ziegler et al. 2019). Die ethnische Herkunft der Einwohner*innen des Ruhrgebiets ist heterogen, die Sprachen des Ruhrgebiets sind in der folgenden Tabelle aufgeführt. Tabelle 1: Sprachen im Ruhrgebiet SIEHE TABELLE SEITE 161 (Adaptiert aus Ziegler et al. 2019:268) Diese Zahlen zeigen, dass es sich bei den drei meistgesprochenen Sprachen im Ruhrgebiet um Deutsch, Englisch und Türkisch handelt. Aufgrund der derzeitigen starken Zuwanderung von Geflüchteten aus arabischen Ländern wie Syrien könnten sich die Zahlen von 2019 zugunsten einer Zunahme der Anzahl Arabischsprechender verändert haben. 3. Manifestationen von Superdiversität 3.1 Lingustic Landscape: Visuelle Mehrsprachigkeit Die Wahrnehmung, Bedeutung und Evaluation visueller Mehrsprachigkeit im Ruhrgebiet basieren auf folgender Annahme: In der heutigen Zeit sind wir überall von Sprachen umgeben; Sprachen begegnen uns in 279 knalligen Werbungen und Werbespots, Namen von Gebäuden, Straßen und Geschäften, in Instruktionen und Warnungen, in Graffiti und im Cyberspace […] (Shohamy/Gorter 2009:4 [Übersetzung E.B.]) Eine Präsentation von Bildern der »sprachlichen Landschaft« des Ruhrgebiets umfasst öffentliche Schilder, Aushänge und Werbungen, die offenbaren, dass wir in einer mehrsprachigen Lebenswelt leben (Cindark/Ziegler 2019; Meierkord/ Fonkeu/Zumhasch 2015). Genau wie in Belgien, wo auf Aushängen Sprachen gemischt werden (Blommaert 2010: 10), findet sich im Ruhrgebiet Vergleichbares, wenn die Aushänge unterschiedliche Gruppen ansprechen sollen. An öffentlichen Orten wie Bahnhöfen besteht die Notwendigkeit, Menschen unterschiedlicher Herkunft und Nationalität zu erreichen. Darüber hinaus sind in Geschäften Werbeplakate in verschiedenen Sprachen zu finden: Türkisch, Arabisch, Englisch und Deutsch. Visuelle Mehrsprachigkeit im Ruhrgebiet bildet die Lebensrealität in den von Mehrsprachigkeit und Superdiversität geprägten Stadtteilen in Essen, Dortmund, Bochum, Duisburg und Mülheim an der Ruhr ab. SIEHE ABBILDUNGEN SEITE 162 Die Abbildungen 1 bis 5 zeigen Elemente visueller Mehrsprachigkeit im Ruhrgebiet. Die Abbildungen 1 und 2 zeigen Aushänge in Bahnhöfen und zeugen von der Notwendigkeit, Menschen unterschiedlicher Sprachen zu erreichen. Die Sprachen entsprechen der Reihenfolge in Tabelle 1, in der Deutsch, Englisch, Türkisch und Französisch die vier dominierenden Sprachen der Region darstellen. Bemerkenswert ist, dass die türkische Sprache, trotz ihres prominenten dritten Platzes in der Statistik, nur auf einigen wenigen öffentlichen Aushängen auftaucht (Abbildung 3). Priorität haben oft die europäischen Sprachen (Englisch und Französisch). Abbildung 4 zeigt eine Lebensmittelverpackung in einem kamerunischen Lebensmittelgeschäft in der Ruhrstadt Essen. Auf dem Etikett findet sich eine Mischung aus den Sprachen Bassa (eine indigene Sprache in Kamerun), Deutsch, Englisch und Französisch. Bobolo (Bassa) ist eine kamerunische Spezialität aus fermentiertem Maniok (engl. ›cassava‹). Bobolo wird hier mit cassava Brot ins Deutsche übersetzt; weitere deutsche Sätze auf der Verpackung enthalten das Wort Ker- Eva Busch, Guy Dermosessian, Abdou Diamé warung (korrekt wäre ›kalt halten‹) sowie Halt bar Bis Dez 2018. Wir sehen hier Variation in der Schreibung deutscher Wörter; ›haltbar‹ wird auf dem Etikett in zwei Wörtern geschrieben: Halt bar. Produit par agro-fresh consummer avant (›produziert von Agro-Fresh, verbrauchen vor‹): auch das französische Wort ›frais‹ wird hier mit fresh übersetzt und ›consommer‹ consummer geschrieben. Der Gebrauch von Deutsch, Englisch, Bassa und Französisch auf demselben Lebensmitteletikett belegt die Mehrsprachigkeit der Gemeinschaft. Die Ladenbetreiber*innen wollen so viele Kund*innen wie möglich gewinnen, indem sie so viele Sprachen wie möglich nutzen. Anders gesagt: die unterschiedlichen Sprachen sprechen die unterschiedlichen Gruppen innerhalb der Gemeinschaft an. Die linguistischen Landschaften dieser mehrsprachigen Gemeinschaft zeigen die soziolinguistischen Mischungen, Diversitäten und die Hybridität dieser diasporischen Gemeinschaft an. Die Aushänge sind an eine Vielzahl von Zielgruppen adressiert: deutsche, afrikanische und türkische Gemeinschaften. Es ist zu beobachten, dass in dieser Situation des Sprachkontakts die syntaktischen und orthografischen Strukturen mancher der Sprachen nicht mehr den normalen Regularien oder Standards unterliegen, was zur beobachteten Superdiversität und Hybridität beiträgt. Abbildung 5 stammt aus einem nigerianischen Restaurant. In dem Ausdruck mit fufu, ist mit eine deutsche Präposition und fufu ein westafrikanisches Gericht aus gestampften Yams oder Maniok. Das Zusammenbringen dieser beiden Wörter bildet eine interessante Sprachmischung. Die Informationen in Abbildung 5 sind in Englisch, Deutsch und indigenen nigerianischen Sprachen. Die Hybridität der Ausdrücke auf der Anzeigetafel fällt ins Auge: Soup mit fufu (›Suppe mit fufu‹), Afro fleisch (›afrikanische Fleischgerichte‹), breakfast special – Frühstück special (›Frühstück spezial‹). Das deutsche Wort ›spezial‹ folgt der englischen Orthografie. Es ist auch zu beobachten, dass die deutsche Syntax ins Englische übertragen wurde. Normalerweise würde man auf Englisch special breakfast statt breakfast special sagen. Hierbei handelt es sich um die Hybridität und Superdiversität, die in Situationen des Sprachkontakts auftreten (Blommaert 2014 & 2016). All das kann als Mittel der Re-Inszenierung von Kultur interpretiert werden; diese Immigrant*innen möchten das, was sie zurückgelassen haben, wieder aufleben lassen. Außer- 280 dem möchten sie mit anderen teilen, was sie an ihrer Soziokultur schätzen. Wir sehen hier, wie nigerianische ethnische und soziolinguistische mit deutschen und europäischen Herkünften in Kontakt treten und dadurch die Mehrsprachigkeit und Multikulturalität des Ruhrgebiets erweitern. 3.2 Sprachstrategien: Code-Switching (Code-Mixing) Eine Untersuchung des vielfältigen sprachlichen Handelns in den mehrsprachigen afrikanischen Gemeinschaften des Ruhrgebiets zeigt, dass eine zusätzliche Sprache die soziolinguistische Situation weiter verkompliziert hat. Das Sprachverhalten dieser Immigrant*innen wird von diesem hochkomplexen Sprachumfeld beeinflusst (Blommaert 2014 & 2016). Mehrsprachige Immigrant*innen aus afrikanischen Ländern haben bei der Ankunft im Ruhrgebiet widersprüchliche Bedürfnisse. Sie wollen sich in den soziokulturellen Gemeinschaften bestehender afrikanischer Immigrant*innen-Gruppen zugehörig und angenommen fühlen. Zugleich müssen sie sich im Zielland integrieren und sich sozioökonomisch selbstbehaupten, was das Hauptziel von Migration darstellt. Diese doppelte Zielsetzung ist in der Regel von großer Bedeutung für den Sprachgebrauch der Sprecher*innen. Denn die Sprachwahl hängt vom Kontext, der Situation und den Gesprächspartner*innen ab; Sprachentscheidungen sind in hohem Maße fluid. Dies bedeutet auch, dass Sprecher*innen es manchmal für notwendig erachten, ihrem bereits reichhaltigen Repertoire neue und komplexe Ressourcen hinzuzufügen. Sprecher*innen werden gelegentlich kreativ und innovativ (Blommaert/Backus 2013; Blommaert 2014), weil sie lernen, die Sprachen, mit denen sie in Kontakt kommen, spezifisch anzuwenden, um spezifische Absichten und Ziele zu erreichen. In der Folge sind im Sprachgebrauch der mehrsprachigen Bewohner*innen des Ruhrgebiets Merkmale wie Code-Mixing, CodeSwitching und Entlehnungen zu beobachten Zur Erläuterung seien die folgenden Sprachen genannt, die Kameruner*innen in ihrem Repertoire haben: Pidgin Englisch und Standard-Englisch werden innerhalb der Familie und mit anderen anglophonen Kameruner*innen und anderen Afrikaner*innen aus englischsprachigen Ländern (wie Nigeria, Ghana, Gambia) gebraucht. Auch mit anderen Immigrant*innen, die noch kein Deutsch sprechen, wird Englisch bisweilen als lingua franca verwendet. Kameruner*innen Eva Busch, Guy Dermosessian, Abdou Diamé nutzen Deutsch bei der Arbeit, auf der Straße, mit deutschen Kolleg*innen, in der Schule oder bei Fortbildungen und als lingua franca mit anderen Immigrant*innen, mit denen sie keine gemeinsame Sprache teilen. Diese Polyglotten nutzen Französisch mit anderen Afrikaner*innen aus französischsprachigen Ländern (wie der Elfenbeinküste, dem Senegal). Viele Kameruner*innen der ersten Generation haben indigene Sprachen, die sie zu Hause mit der Familie, bei Vereinstreffen sowie mit anderen Angehörigen ihrer Gemeinschaft sprechen. Code-Switching tritt auf, wenn Sprecher*innen innerhalb eines einzigen Gesprächs zwischen zwei oder mehr Sprachen oder Sprachvarietäten hin- und herwechseln (Myers-Scotton 1993). Der folgende Dialog zwischen zwei Kameruner*innen und einer Nigerianerin auf dem Weg von Mühlheim an der Ruhr zu einer Beerdigung nach Dortmund dokumentiert das Gespräch zwischen ihnen. 281 ›to make it‹ lautet auf WAP make-am. Es zeigt sich also, dass in der deutschen Diaspora WAP mit der deutschen Sprache in Kontakt steht, was zu lexikalischen Entlehnungen führt, die typisch für derartige mehrsprachige Settings sind (Myers Scotton 1993). Der Gebrauch von abi im dritten und chineke in der vierten Äußerung sind weitere Beispiele für die Mischung dieser ethnischen Sprachen. Dieser Dialog führt uns auch die Solidarität und die Vernetzung vor Augen, die mit dem Gebrauch dieser Sprache erzeugt werden. Fazit Für [diese Immigrant*innen] verläuft die Grenze nicht mehr entlang irgendeines geopolitisch festgelegten Standorts. [Sie] trage[n] die Grenze mit sich und stoße[n] überall, wo sie hinkommen, auf neue Grenzen. Für [sie] ist die Heimat sowohl hier als auch dort (GómezPeña 2002: 750 [Übersetzung E.B.]). Dialog Nr. 1 1. Fahrer: A no think say we go schaffam eh. The traffic too high. The cry die di start na when again? (»Ich glaube nicht, dass wir es rechtzeitig schaffen. Es gibt zu viel Verkehr. Wann fängt die Beerdigung nochmal an?«) 2. Mola: No worry we go reach no bi Oyibo something na darkie their own thing di always start late nooh. (»Keine Sorge, wir kommen schon rechtzeitig an, es ist keine europäische, sondern eine afrikanische Veranstaltung, unsere afrikanischen Feste fangen immer spät an.«) 3. Gloria: You did not invite me to your birthday … abi? (»Du hast mich nicht zu deiner Geburtstagsparty eingeladen, oder?«) 4. Nadine: Chineke! I called you yesterday to ask you … see me see wahala (»Großer Gott! Ich habe dich gestern angerufen, um dich zu fragen ... das ist nicht möglich!«) (ausrufend) In der ersten Äußerung A no think say we go schaffam ist das Wort schaffam aus dem Deutschen entlehnt: ›Ich glaube nicht, dass wir es schaffen werden‹. Es ist zu beobachten, dass das entlehnte Wort ›schaffen‹ an die morphologische Struktur des West African Pidgin (WAP) angepasst wurde. Die englische Entsprechung Dieses Zitat fängt die Tatsache ein, dass Sprachgebrauch dynamisch und fließend ist, wie die Immigrant*innen des Ruhrgebiets belegen. Die Grenzen zwischen dem Translokalen und dem Transnationalen sind nicht immer kategorisch oder offensichtlich. Immigrant*innen richten sich zwischen Sprachen und Kulturen in den verschiedenen Zusammenhängen ein, in denen sie sich wiederfinden. Sie sind weder dem Heimatland noch dem Zielland zugehörig; sie knüpfen häufig Verbindungen zu beiden und schulden beiden Loyalität: sie sind hier (Deutschland) und dort (Herkunftsland) (Kadje 2017). Der diasporische Raum des Ruhrgebiets erlebt eine Kulmination von Kulturen und Sprachen, die nach und nach die soziokulturelle und soziolinguistische Diversität der Region erweitert. Sprachwahl hat zum Zweck, Gruppensolidarität, Nähe, Freundlichkeit und Zugehörigkeit (wieder-)herzustellen. Immigrant*innen halten manchmal an Kulturformen fest, müssen sich aber zu anderen Zeiten an diasporische Kulturformen halten, wie zum Beispiel, wenn Studierende gebeten werden, ihre Professor*innen mit Vornamen anzusprechen. Sprache wird dann zum Anlass, die Diversität der Kulturen zu feiern. In vielen nichteuropäischen Kulturen ist es undenkbar, Dozent*innen und Professor*innen mit Vornamen anzusprechen. Sprachentscheidungen im diasporischen Raum des Ruhrgebiets hängen vom Kontext ab. Wie aufgezeigt, macht die Anwesenheit vieler Nedjo Osman anderer Sprachen und Kulturen in einem globalisierten Kontext die Sprachentscheidungen komplex, superdivers und unvorhersehbar (Bolommaert/Rampton 2011). Referenzen Ad Backus, »Turkish as an Immigrant Language«, in: T.K. Bhatia/W.C. Ritchie (Hg.), The Handbook of Bilingualism, Oxford 2004, S. 689–724. A. Backus/N. Jorgen/C. Pfaff, »Linguistic Effects of Immigration: Language Choice, CodeSwitching, and Change in Western European Turkish«, in: Language and Linguistics Compass, 4/7, S. 481–495. G. Bernhard/F. Lebsanft (Hg.), Mehrsprachigkeit im Ruhrgebiet, Tübingen 2012. S. Bird, Orthography and Identity in Cameroon, Pennsylvania 2001. J. Blommaert, The Sociolinguistics of Globalization, Cambridge 2010. J. Blommaert, »From Mobility to Complexity in Sociolinguistics Theory and Methods«, in: Tilburg Papers in Culture Studies, 103, 2014, https:// www.tilburguniversity.edu /upload/5ff19e97-9abc45d0-8773-d2d8b0a9b0f8_TPCS_103_Blommaert.pdf (10.03.2020). J. Blommaert, New Forms of Diaspora, New Forms of Integration, 2016, https://alternative-democracyresearch.org/2016/02/03/new-forms-of-diaspora-newforms-of-integration/ (16.04.2021). J. Blommaert/A. Backus, »Superdiverse Repertoires and the Individual«, in: I. de Saint-Georges/J. J. Weber (Hg.), Multilingualism and Multimodality: Current Challenges for Educational Studies, Rotterdam 2013, S. 11–32. S. Canagarajah, »Translingual Practice as Spatial Repertoires: Expanding the Paradigm beyond Structuralist Orientations«, in: Applied Linguistics, 39/1, 2017, S. 31–54. G. Gómez-Peña, »The New World Border«, in: G. M. Joseph/T. Anderson (Hg.), The Mexico Reader, Durham 2002, S. 750–751. D. Crystal, A Dictionary of Sociolinguistics and Phonetics, Oxford 1980. A. Fleischer, »Marriage over Space and Time among Male Immigrants from Cameroon in Germany«, MaxPlanck Institute for Demographic Research working paper 2008-006, 2008, https://core.ac.uk/download/ pdf/6385700.pdf (20.06.2020). L. N. Fonjong, »Equal Rights but Unequal Power over Land: Rethinking the Process of Engendering Landownership and Management in Cameroon«, in: Issues in Women’s Land Rights in Cameroon, Mankon 2012, S. 19–42. B. Fonkeu, Multilingualism and Language Domains: An Empirical Study of Cameroonian Immigrants in the Ruhr Area, unpublished MA thesis, Ruhr University Bochum 2011. J. Friedrichs, »Intra-Regional Polarization: Cities in the Ruhr Area, Germany«, in: J. V. O’Loughlin/J. 282 Friedrichs (Hg.), Social Polarization in PostIndustrial Metropolises, Berlin 1996, S. 133–172. W. Kallmeyer/I. Keim, »Linguistic Variation and the Construction of Social Identity in a German-Turkish Setting: A Case Study of an Immigrant Youth Group in Mannheim, Germany«, in: J. K. Androutsopoulus/A. Georgakopoulou (Hg.), Discourse Construction of Youth Identities, Amsterdam 2003, S. 29–48. P. Kerswill, »Migration and Language«, in: A. Ulrich/N. Dittmar/K. Mattheier (Hg.), Sociolinguistics: An International Handbook of the Science of Language and Society, Bd. 2, Berlin 2006, S. 2271–2285. C. Meierkord/B. Fonkeu/E. Zumhasch, »Diasporic Second Language Englishes in the African Communities of Germany’s Ruhr Area«, in: International Journal of English Linguistics, 5/1, 2015. C. Myers-Scotton, Social Motivation for Codeswitching. Evidence from Africa, Oxford 1993. V. N. Ngassa, »Exploring Women’s Rights within the Cameroonian Legal Sytem: Where do Customary Practices of Bride-Price Fit in?«, in: L. N. Fonjong (Hg.), Issues in Women’s Land Rights in Cameroon, Mankon 2012, S. 65–86. L.O. Salami, »Deference and Subordination. Gender Roles and Other Variables in Addressing and Referring to Husbands by Yoruba Women«, in: Linguistik Online, 21/4, 2004, S. 65–80. E. Shohamy/D. Gorter, Linguistic Landscape: Expanding the Scenery, London 2009. I. Taavitsainen/H. A. Jucker, Diachronic Perspectives on Address Term Systems, Philadelphia 2003. S. Vertovec, »Super-Diversity and Its Implications«, in: Ethnic and Racial Studies, 30/6, 2007, S. 1024–1054, http://dx.doi. org/10.1080/01419870701599465 (11.11.2020). E. Ziegler/I. Cindark, »Mehrsprachigkeit im Ruhrgebiet: Zur Sichtbarkeit sprachlicher Diversität in Dortmund«, in: S. Ptashnyk et al. (Hg.), Gegenwärtige Sprachkontakte im Kontext der Migration, Heidelberg 2016, S. 133–156. E. Ziegler/U. Schmitz, H.-H. Uslucan, »Attitudes towards Visual Multilingualism in the Linguistic Landscape of the Ruhr Area«, in: M. Pütz/M. Neele (Hg.), Expanding the Linguistic Landscape: Linguistic Diversity, Multimodality and the Use of Space as a Semiotic Resource, Bristol 2019, S. 264–299. Nedjo Osman p.178 The Nest of the Greeks Η φωλιά των Ελλήνων Μια ιστορία ελληνικού πολιτισμού στην Περιοχή του ποταμού Ρουρ: Από την ταβέρνα «Ακρόπολις» του Ντούισμπουργκ στον Λάκμανν του Βίττεν. Του Μιλτιάδη Ούλιου Μετάφραση: Παναγιώτης Πετρόπουλος Ο Μιλτιάδης Ούλιος είναι δημοσιογράφος και ζει στο Ντύσσελντορφ. Εργάζεται για την δημόσια ραδιοφωνία στην Γερμανία (WDR, Deutschlandfunk), παρουσίαζε την εκπομπή Ραδιόπολις και έχει δημοσιεύσει τα βιβλία Μπλακ-μποξ απέλαση και Κολωνία, κοσμοπολίτικη. Παράλληλα ασχολείτε με το θέατρο και την μουσική (συγκρότημα Deep ya Deep). «Οι τρεις μαφιόζοι-γορίλες σαν μπήκαν στο μαγαζί, έριξαν μια «βαριά» ματιά σε όλα τα τραπέζια του καταστήματος και με αργό βήμα κατευθύνθηκαν προς τη γωνία του μεγάλου ημικυκλικού πάγκου στο μπαρ του μαγαζιού. Τράβηξαν ταυτόχρονα τρία σκαμπό προς το μέρος τους και με τη πλάτη τους στραμμένη προς τους θαμώνες έκατσαν ακριβώς μπροστά από την μεγάλη ιταλική μηχανή του καφέ. Να σημειωθεί εδώ, πως τα χερούλια από τα εξαρτήματα που φτιάχνεις τον καφέ σε αυτή την μηχανή ήταν μεγάλα και σιδερένια. Οι τρεις νταγλαράδες βγάλανε από ένα πακέτο πούρα ο καθένας, ανάψανε επιβλητικά ο ένας το πούρο του αλλουνού και μου παραγγείλανε τρεις μπύρες! Προσπάθησα να φανώ ήρεμος και πάνω από όλα «ανυποψίαστος» για την όποια κακόβουλη πρόθεση των τριών πελατών μου. Χωρίς να δώσω το παραμικρό δικαίωμα, πήγα στην «τρέζα», τους ετοίμασα ο ίδιος μου τις τρεις μπύρες και τους τις σέρβιρα ο ίδιος. Δεν πρόλαβα να πάω μια παραγγελία σε ένα γωνιακό τραπέζι, παραγγείλανε άλλες τρεις μπύρες, τις οποίες και αυτές τις σερβίρισα ο ίδιος. Οι μπράβοι του «Καλυψώ», σαν ήπιαν την πρώτη τους γουλιά, άρχισαν ο ένας μετά τον άλλον να σπάζουν επιδεικτικά τα σταχτοδοχεία, που ήταν μπροστά τους, σπρώχνοντάς τα να πέσουν από τον πάγκο στα πλακάκια του δαπέδου. Σαν είδα τη ζημιά που κάνανε, άπλωσα το χέρι μου πίσω από τον πάγκο και με πολύ ήρεμο ύφος, δίχως 283 να τους πω κουβέντα, έγραψα για το κάθε σταχτοδοχείο, πέντε Μάρκα στον λογαριασμό τους. Ένας από αυτούς σήκωσε τη γροθιά του και απειλώντας με μου είπε: «Βρωμοέλληνα, σήμερα ήρθαμε στο μαγαζί σου αποκλειστικά και μόνο για την πάρτη σου! Για το καλό σου λοιπόν, μας δίνεις τα πεντακόσια Μάρκα και ούτε γάτα ούτε ζημιά. Το «αφεντικό» μας, όπως καταλαβαίνεις, είναι πολύ … φιλεύσπλαχνος! Τι είναι για εσένα πεντακόσια Μάρκα; Γελοίο ποσό! Αν δεν συμφωνείς όμως, θα σου το κάνουμε γυαλιά καρφιά! Καλοκαιρινό! Κατάλαβες;» Δεν είπα κουβέντα. Έκανα μάλιστα πως δεν με ένοιαζε τι έλεγε, έκανα τον αδιάφορο. Δεν τους έδωσα καν σημασία! Με το κάθε μου χέρι όμως, έπιασα γερά κι από ένα χερούλι της μεγάλης ιταλικής μηχανής του καφέ! Με μια εκτίναξη που έκανα με τα πόδια μου προς τα μπρος, υποβασταζόμενος από τα σιδερένια χερούλια, πέτυχα με τις πατούσες των παπουτσιών μου τα πρόσωπα των δύο από τους τρεις γορίλες που καθόντανε στα σκαμπό πίσω από την μηχανή του καφέ. Και οι δύο σωριάστηκαν αναίσθητοι στο πάτωμα. Με ένα στιγμιαίο και κοφτό χτύπημα στο σβέρκο ξάπλωσα και τον τρίτο της παρέας στο πάτωμα. Δεν τους άφησα να συνέλθουν. Τους ξυλοφόρτωσα τόσο που σαν έφτασε η αστυνομία και τους είδε σε κακά χάλια, το μόνο που πρόλαβε να κάνει, ήταν να καλέσει το ασθενοφόρο. Την επομένη του συμβάντος με επισκέφθηκε ένας επιθεωρητής από την διοίκηση ασφαλείας της πόλης και μου έδωσε ένα περίστροφο. Μου πρότεινε να βγάλω άμεσα και την απαραίτητη άδεια για την οπλοφορία μου.» (Παλτόγλου 2012, σ. 63) (Εικόνα 1 - Ακρόπολις, p.171) Η ταβέρνα «Ακρόπολις» στο Ντούισμπουργκ δεν ήταν απλά ένα ελληνικό εστιατόριο. Ήταν ένας θρύλος. Μια ιστορία ζωής ενός ανθρώπου, που άνοιξε το 1968 στο Ντούισμπουργκ ελληνικό εστιατόριο και όσα έζησε και πέρασε θα αρκούσαν κάλλιστα για σενάριο κινηματογραφικής ταινίας. Ο Δημήτρης Χατζηγεωργιάδης ήταν ένας οικοδόμος από το χωριό Τοξότες του Νόμου Ξάνθης στην Ανατολική Ελλάδα. Καταγόταν από έναν τόπο, όπου ο Βούλγαροι κατακτητές στο Δεύτερο Παγκόσμιο Πόλεμο διέπραξαν σφαγές ως σύμμαχοι των Γερμανών. Για να σώσει το τομάρι του, ο Δημήτρης Χατζηγεωργιάδης κατέφυγε το 1942 στην Αυστρία και έζησε εκεί ως εργάτης, δουλεύοντας σε εργοστάσιο που παρήγαγε πολεμοφόδια. «Επειδή ήταν λίγο ατίθασος, Bridget Fonkeu Έλληνας ο «Μπάρμπα-Μήτσος» , τα είχε βάλει με κάποιους Ναζί και τελικά τον μπαγλαρώσανε και τον πήγανε στο Kleinmünchen σ’ένα κάτεργο στην πόλη του Linz», αναφέρει ο Ευθύμιος Παλτόγλου (με το μικρό όνομα Μάκης)1. Ζει ακόμα στο Ντούισμπουργκ και έχει μεταφέρει ιδιόχειρα τα απομνημονεύματα του θείου του σε ένα χειρόγραφο που αναμένει τη δημοσίευσή του. «Τον είχα πραγματικά πιέσει ώστε να γράψει κάθε λεπτομέρεια», κρυφογελά ο Μάκης, «είναι οι υποκειμενικές μαρτυρίες της ζωής του». Η ιστορία του εστιατορίου «Ακρόπολις» στο Ντούισμπουργκ είναι ένα κομμάτι της ιστορίας πολιτισμού της περιοχής του ποταμού Ρουρ στη Δυτική Γερμανία. Και συγκεκριμένα της κοσμοπολίτικης του κουλτούρας. Δεν εννοούμε τον δήθεν κοσμοπολιτισμό των λεγόμενων Πλουσίων και Ωραίων, αλλά τον δικό μας κοσμοπολίτικο πολιτισμό από τα κάτω. «Διότι η κοσμόπολις είμαστε εμείς. O κόσμος - με τη διπλή έννοια της λέξης - βρίσκεται εμπρός μας μόλις βγαίνουμε από την πόρτα του σπιτιού μας και αυτός είναι ο δικός μας πολιτισμός. […] Όχι μόνο η ιστορία και οι ιστορίες της μετανάστευσης είναι μέρος της κοινής μας γερμανικής ιστορίας, αλλά και οι πολιτισμοί των μεταναστών είναι μέρος του κοινού μας πολιτισμού στη Γερμανία.» (Ούλιος 2018:39+49) Ο Δημήτρης Χατζηγεωργιάδης, τον οποίο όλοι τον λέγανε «Μπάρμπα-Μήτσο», επιβίωσε από το στρατόπεδο καταναγκαστικής εργασίας των Ναζί και επέστρεψε μετά τον πόλεμο στην Ελλάδα. Έγινε γεωργός, ξυλουργός και δούλεψε σε λατομείο. Το 1960 ήρθε ως οικοδόμος της εταιρείας Hochtief στο Ντούισμπουργκ. Εκεί δούλευαν πολλοί «φιλοξενούμενοι εργάτες», καθώς και Έλληνες, με τους οποίους ο «Μπάρμπα-Μήτσος» έμενε σε παράγκες, στα παραπήγματα του Meiderich. Ο Δημήτρης Χατζηγεωργιάδης, ωστόσο, έκανε καριέρα. Με αισθητή περηφάνεια περιγράφει, το πως τσακώθηκε με έναν ρατσιστή επιστάτη και ότι μέσα σε λίγο καιρό, επειδή μιλούσε καλά γερμανικά, μπορούσε να μεσολαβεί ως ορκωτός διερμηνέας μεταξύ των γερμανικών αρχών και των συμπατριωτών του. Πάνω απ' όλα αναφέρει ότι προέβαλε τη δουλειά «με αντικείμενο» αντί με μεροκάμματο στo εργοτάξιο. Με ένα ασκέρι γερμανών, γιουγκοσλάβων και ελλήνων συναδέλφων έκανε προσφορά στη διεύθυνση της εταιρείας να μη δουλεύουν άλλο με πληρωμή ωρομισθίου αλλά να πληρώνονται 284 ανά έργο. Όσο πιο γρήγορα διεκπεραίωναν την συγκεκριμένη εργολαβία στην οικοδομή, τόσο περισσότερα χρήματα θα κέρδιζαν άνα ώρα. Κατά τα γραφόμενά του, ο ίδιος έβγαζε αρκετές φορές 1400 Μάρκα το μήνα, το τριπλάσιο ενός -κατά μέσο όρο- μισθού τότε. Επιπλέον ως ενεργός συνδικαλιστής αργότερα πήρε μέρος σε ένα ταξίδι στη Σοβιετική Ένωση ως ο μοναδικός αλλοδαπός της Γερμανικής Αντιπροσωπείας. Γιατί, λοιπόν, άνοιξε ένας τέτοιος άνθρωπος εστιατόριο; «Ο θείος μου, στην ουσία, δεν είχε καμία σχέση με την γαστρονομία», εξηγεί ο Μάκης Παλτόγλου. «Η απόφαση ήταν πολιτικής φύσης. Άνοιξε την ταβέρνα μετά από πολλές προτροπές των συνοδοιπόρων του, με σκοπό να έχει ένα κέντρο όπου θα μαζεύεται ο Ελληνισμός του αντι-δικτατορικού αγώνα. Αυτή ήταν η αρχή. Το εστιατόριο «Ακρόπολις» ήταν από την πρώτη στιγμή της ίδρυσής του, τον Ιανουάριο του 1968, ένα κέντρο του αντιδικτατορικού αγώνα στη Βόρεια Ρηνανία Βεστφαλία.» Έναν χρόνο πριν, στην Ελλάδα είχαν αρπάξει την εξουσία με πραξικόπημα ακροδεξιοί στρατιωτικοί. Αυτό σήμαινε για το αφεντικό του «Ακρόπολις», ότι για όσο καιρό κρατούσε η δικτατορία, εκείνος δε θα μπορούσε να επισκεφτεί την πατρίδα του χωρίς να ρισκάρει την σύλληψη του από την στιγμή που υπήρξε πολιτικά ενεργός στην Ελλάδα . (Εικόνα 2 - Münzstrasse, p.173) Η παλιά ταβέρνα «Ακρόπολις» βρισκόταν στην οδό Münzstrasse, όπου σήμερα βρίσκεται ένα απρόσωπο κτίριο που στεγάζει την αγορά Knüllermarkt. Στα μέσα της δεκαετίας του 1960, στο ίδιο μέρος διατηρούσαν δύο Κρητικοί μια γωνιακή μπυραρία και στους ορόφους από πάνω βρισκόταν ένα ημι-παράνομο μπουρδέλο. «Οι υπάλληλοι του δήμου μου είπαν, πως για να μου δώσουν άδεια λειτουργίας εστιατορίου, πρέπει πρώτα να απαλλαγεί το κτίριο από την παρουσία του υπόκοσμου», έγραψε ο «Μπαρμπα-Μήτσος» στα απομνημονεύματά του (Παλτόγλου 2012: 54). «Για τον λόγο αυτό, μου δώσανε προσωρινή άδεια λειτουργίας για τρεις μήνες. Μέσα σε αυτό το χρονικό διάστημα έπρεπε να διώξω από το κτίριο όλες τις πόρνες και τους συνοδούς τους. Εκτός αυτού, το κτίριο έπρεπε να καθαριστεί και να εκπληρεί όλους τους όρους υγιεινής και καθαριότητας που απαιτούνταν για την άδεια του». Ακολούθησαν οι απειλές των νταβατζήδων και οι εκβιασμοί της μαφίας του Ντούισμπουργκ με Bridget Fonkeu τον δύστροπο αρχηγό τους ονόματι «Καλυψώ», για να τους πληρώνει «προστασία», μόλις άνοιξε το «Ακρόπολις». Ο «Μπαρμπα-Μήτσος» δεν ήθελε όμως να υποκύψει στην πίεση που του ασκούσαν, κάτι που φαίνεται με εντυπωσιακό τρόπο στην αρχή αυτού του κειμένου. «Το πρώτο μου μέλημα ήταν, να απαλλάξω το μαγαζί από την κακή του φήμη», θυμάται (σ. 55). Έτσι από μια συνηθισμένη γερμανική μπυραρία μετέτρεψε το μαγαζί σε ένα καθαρά ελληνικό εστιατόριο, με ελληνικούς μεζέδες που φάνταζαν εξωτικοί εκείνη την εποχή στην Γερμανία. Αγόρασε και ένα Τζουκ μποξ που έπαιζε τις τελευταίες ελληνικές επιτυχίες. Η γυναίκα του, η Πηνελόπη, η οποία ζούσε κι αυτή εντωμεταξύ στη Γερμανία, ανέλαβε την κουζίνα και ετοίμαζε μαζί με τους βοηθούς της μεζέδες και ψητά. Ο «Μπαρμπα-Μήτσος» συγκέντρωσε μια κομπανία από Έλληνες εργάτες που ζούσαν στην περιοχή και έπαιζαν μπουζούκι, ντραμς, ακορντεόν και τραγούδι. Ήθελε να προσφέρει στους συμπατριώτες του την ευκαιρία να γλεντούν τα Σαββατοκύριακα και να ξεχνούν την σκληρή δουλειά. (Εικόνα 3 - Ακρόπολις, p.174) Στην είσοδο του εστιατορίου «Ακρόπολις» υπήρχε μια πινακίδα που έγραφε το εξής: «Απαγορεύεται αυστηρώς η είσοδος στο κατάστημα σε φιλοχουντικά άτομα ή άτομα που πρόσκεινται στην ιδεολογία τους». Συχνή πελάτισσα ήταν η - τότε παγκοσμίου φήμης ηθοποιός και αντιδικτατορική συναγωνίστρια - Μελίνα Μερκούρη, η οποία αργότερα (τη δεκαετία του 1980) έγινε υπουργός Πολιτισμού με τους σοσιαλιστές και ίδρυσε τον θεσμό της Ευρωπαϊκής Ένωσης «Πολιτιστική Πρωτεύουσα Ευρώπης. «Η επιτυχία και η πελατεία του «Ακρόπολις» μεγάλωνε καθημερινά. Όταν μάλιστα, άρχισα να φέρνω την Μελίνα Μερκούρη, την φίλη και συναγωνίστρια στον αντιδικτατορικό μας αγώνα, γινότανε πανζουρλισμός. Όταν ερχότανε η Μελίνα, τραγουδούσε μόνο το Σάββατο, γιατί την Κυριακή κρατούσα αναγκαστικά το μαγαζί κλειστό. Ο λόγος; Τα ντουλάπια και οι βιτρίνες του μαγαζιού ήταν άδεια. Οι θαμώνες, σαν άκουγαν την Μελίνα, σπάζανε πιάτα, ποτήρια, μπουκάλια, σταχτοδοχεία, τα πάντα. Πώς να δουλέψω τις Κυριακές, αφού δεν είχα άλλα σερβίτσια, ποτήρια και πιάτα; Η Μελίνα ήταν για τους Έλληνες αγωνιστές της Γερμανίας και της 285 υπόλοιπης Ευρώπης η ενσάρκωση της αλύγιστης Ελληνίδας αγωνίστριας και υπερασπίστριας της Δημοκρατίας. Ήταν λοιπόν κάτι το φυσιολογικό, σαν έπιανε η Μελίνα το μικρόφωνο, οι Έλληνες του «Ακρόπολις» να πέφτουν σε ένα απίστευτο παραλήρημα και εκστασιασμό. Δεν ήταν μόνο η φωνή και το τραγούδι της Μελίνας, που δημιουργούσε τέτοιες καταστάσεις. Ήταν οι αγωνιστικοί χαιρετισμοί της, η επιμονή και το πείσμα της, η αποφασιστικότητά της να αγωνίζεται για τη δημοκρατία με όλο της το είναι. Το χάρισμά της να μεταδίδει την αγωνιστική της φλόγα, σε όσους την άκουγαν, ενθάρρυνε πολλούς να ασχοληθούν με τα πολιτικά της χώρας μας και να δουλέψουν σαν ενεργά μέλη στον αντιδικτατορικό αγώνα μας! Για αυτό, κάθε φορά που είχα την Μελίνα στην ταβέρνα «Ακρόπολις» έπρεπε να ανοίξω διάπλατα παράθυρα και πόρτες!«. (σ. 57) (Εικόνα 4 - Ακρόπολις, p175) «Στο μεταξύ το αντιδικτατορικό μας κίνημα μεγάλωνε καθημερινά. Με κινητοποιήσεις, με συχνά συλλαλητήρια και έχοντας στο πλευρό μας τα Γερμανικά Συνδικάτα και το Δημοκρατικό Σοσιαλιστικό Κόμμα της Γερμανίας (SPD) φροντίζαμε, ώστε το κίνημα και οι στόχοι μας να γίνουν γνωστοί σε όλη την Ευρώπη. Σε ένα από τα συλλαλητήρια που διοργάνωσε η τοπική αντιδικτατορική ομάδα της πόλη μας στο Ντούισμπουργκ κάλεσα και όλα τα στελέχη της Ομοσπονδιακής Κυβέρνησης του κρατιδίου της Ρηνανίας-Βεστφαλίας. Ο ίδιος ο Πρωθυπουργός της Ρηνανίας-Βεστφαλίας, ο Κος Χάιντζ Κουν, με όλο του το Επιτελείο, μας τίμησε και παραβρέθηκε στο πλευρό μας, στην πρώτη γραμμή της πορείας μας. Μετά το πέρας του συλλαλητηρίου τους κάλεσα όλους μαζί στην ταβέρνα «Ακρόπολις», όπου και τους φίλεψα. Εκείνη η ημέρα ήταν η αφετηρία μιας πολύ δυναμικής και αποτελεσματικής συνεργασίας του κινήματός μας με την τότε κυβέρνηση της Ρηνανίας-Βεστφαλίας. Είχα την ευκαιρία να γνωρίσω προσωπικά όχι μόνον τον κύριο Κουν, που δεν σταμάτησε όλη τη βραδιά να επαινεί και να εξαίρει το δημοκρατικό και αγωνιστικό πνεύμα του κινήματός μας, αλλά και με αρκετά από τα υπουργικά στελέχη της κυβέρνησής του. Ο κύριος Κουν μας συμπαραστάθηκε καθ’ όλη τη θητεία του, επίσημα ως Πρωθυπουργός μα και ανεπίσημα ως πεπεισμένος σοσιαλιστής και δημοκράτης με προσωπική επιρροή και τις Bridget Fonkeu πολύ καλές γνωριμίες του. Ήταν ένας αξιέπαινος πολιτικός, που αγαπούσε τους Έλληνες και θαύμαζε τον Ελληνικό πολιτισμό. Με την πάροδο του χρόνου, γνωριστήκαμε τόσο καλά με τον Πρωθυπουργό μας, που γίναμε οικογενειακοί φίλοι. Μας επισκέφθηκε άπειρες φορές στην ταβέρνα «Ακρόπολις» και με την οικογένειά του, αλλά και με τους φίλους και συνεργάτες του. Όταν μάλιστα ερχότανε και τραγουδούσε η φίλη και συναγωνίστριά μου Μελίνα Μερκούρη στην «Ακρόπολις», έπαιρνε τηλέφωνο για να του κρατήσω τραπέζι. Μια βραδιά όμως, που τραγουδούσε η Μελίνα, ήρθε με τρεις φίλους του απρόοπτα, χωρίς να με πάρει τηλέφωνο και δεν υπήρχε ούτε δείγμα τραπεζιού. Πήγα λοιπόν επάνω και του έφερα από το σαλόνι μας το δικό μας τραπέζι. Μιας και δεν υπήρχε πουθενά αλλού χώρος, έβαλα το τραπέζι με τις τέσσερις καρέκλες, μέσα στον πάγκο του μαγαζιού. Παρόλο που πολλοί Έλληνες θαμώνες αναγνώρισαν τον Πρωθυπουργό και του πρόσφεραν το τραπέζι τους, εκείνος τους ευχαρίστησε, αλλά δε δέχθηκε να αλλάξει το «στέκι» του πίσω από τον πάγκο. «Και εσείς και εμείς, ήρθαμε εδώ, για να διασκεδάσουμε. Δεν ήρθα ως Πρωθυπουργός στο μαγαζί, αλλά ως φίλος του Δημήτρη, της Μελίνας και όλων των Ελλήνων, για να γλεντήσουμε παρέα. Δεν είναι σωστό να πάρουμε εμείς το τραπέζι σας». (σ. 72) Σπασμένα τζάμια, μαχαίρια καρφωμένα στην πόρτα καθώς και απειλητικές επιστολές ανήκαν, ωστόσο, επίσης στην καθημερινότητα της ταβέρνας «Ακρόπολις» κι όλα αυτά επειδή ο Δημήτρης Χατζηγεωργιάδης είχε γίνει στόχος ελλήνων φασιστών και οπαδών της χούντας. Εκείνος περιγράφει το πως προσπάθησαν - στο τέλος της δεκαετίας του 1960 - δύο φορές να τον δολοφονήσουν. Την πρώτη φορά σε έναν αγώνα της ποδοσφαιρικής ομάδας «ΕΛΛΑΣ Ντούισμπουργκ», την ώρα που εκείνη είχε μόλις σκοράρει το εναρκτήριο γκολ του αγώνα. Όλοι οι ¨Έλληνες και οι Ελληνίδες στο γήπεδο ζητωκραύγαζαν. «Την ώρα που ανέμελος χειροκροτούσα, άκουσα δίπλα μου την κουμπάρα μου την Ευρώπη, σχεδόν στριγκλίζοντας, να μου φωνάζει έντρομη: «Δημήτρη! Πρόσεχε πίσω σου!». Με το που άκουσα «πρόσεχε», αντέδρασα αστραπιαία! Έκανα απότομη στροφή και σήκωσα ενστικτωδώς το δεξί μου χέρι. Αυτή η κίνηση μου έσωσε την ζωή». (σ. 76) 286 Τον άνδρα που του επιτέθηκε με μαχαίρι, τον είχε προφανώς στείλει το δικτατορικό καθεστώς της Αθήνας. Η ειρωνεία της ιστορίας είναι ότι ο «Μπαρμπα-Μήτσος» είχε βοηθήσει λίγους μήνες πριν αυτό το «παλληκάρι» στο Αλλοδαπών, ώστε να η απέλασή του που τον απειλούσε εξαιτίας μαύρης εργασίας. Λόγω αυτών των απειλών τελικά, οι αρχές του κρατιδίου τοποθέτησαν, για την προστασία του, σωματοφύλακες της αστυνομίας στο πλάι του «Μπαρμπα-Μήτσου». «Αυτό που είδα με τα μάτια μου: ο θείος μου είχε ακόμη και το 1980 ένα όπλο κάτω από την τρέζα όταν γνώρισα το «Ακρόπολις».» Ο Μάκης Παλτόγλου εγκατέλειψε την Ελλάδα για να σπουδάσει Πληροφορική και Οικονομικά στην Γερμανία. Το «Ακρόπολις» εκέινο τον καιρό είχε ήδη μετακομίσει. Το 1975 η διοίκηση του δήμου ειδοποίησε τον Δημήτρη Χατζηγεωργιάδη, ότι το κτίριο στο οποίο παλιά στεγαζόταν, έπρεπε να κατεδαφιστεί. Ταυτόχρονα του πρότεινε ο Δήμαρχος να χρησιμοποιήσει σαν εναλλακτική ένα κτίριο στην πλατεία Dellplatz στη γωνία με την οδό Goldstraße, ακριβώς δίπλα από την εκκλησία St. Joseph. Η οικογένεια Χατζηγεωργιάδη ήταν ενθουσιασμένη. Δίπλα από το εστιατόριο υπήρχαν δύο χώροι για κοινωνικές εκδηλώσεις, ένας μικρότερος στο ισόγειο και ένας μεγάλος στον πρώτο όροφο. Από τα μέσα της δεκαετίας του 1980, η μικρή οδός μεταξύ του εστιατορίου και της εκκλησίας μετατράπηκε σε ζώνη πεζοδρομίου και έτσι μπορούσε το «Ακρόπολις» να προσφέρει γαστρονομία εξωτερικού χώρου. Το μαγαζί μετατράπηκε σε αληθινό χρυσωρυχείο σε μια γνωστή πλέον οδό της πόλης. Για την οικογένεια του «Μπαρμπα-Μήτσου» αυτό σήμαινε βέβαια ότι δεν υπήρχαν καλοκαιρινές διακοπές, διότι η γαστρονομική περίοδος αιχμής («χοτ-σίζον») του μαγαζιού ήταν το καλοκαίρι. «Στο σπίτι ζούσαν κι άλλες ελληνικές οικογένειες. Εγώ ο ίδιος έμεινα εκεί τον πρώτο χρόνο», θυμάται ο Μάκης Παλτόγλου. Εργάστηκε ως σερβιτόρος για πέντε χρόνια στο «Ακρόπολις» τον καιρό που σπούδαζε. Η νέα ταβέρνα «Ακρόπολις» δεν είχε κάτι κοινό με το αρχηγείο του αντιδικτατορικού αγώνα που’ταν τα πρώτα χρονια. «Αλλά παρέμεινε η φωλιά των Ελλήνων», εξηγεί ο Μάκης Παλτόγλου, «μιας και το μαγαζί ήταν πάντα γεμάτο». Τα Σαββατοκύριακα περισσότερο με Ελληνίδες και Έλληνες και τις καθημερινές με περισσότερη γερμανική Bridget Fonkeu πελατεία . Ήταν ένα σημαντικό πολιτιστικό χοτ-σποτ. Οι άνθρωποι του δημοτικού γραφείου πολιτισμού έρχονταν συχνά, ο Δήμαρχος, ο σκακιστικός όμιλος, πολλές-οί καλλιτέχν(ιδ)ες από το γειτονικό κέντρο πολιτισμού και φοιτητές και φοιτήτριες από τη γειτονική φοιτητική εστία. Ο «Μπαρμπα-Μήτσος» ήταν στο κόμμα του SPD και ήξερε κόσμο και κοσμάκη. Το εστιατόριο «Ακρόπολις» παρέμεινε πολιτικοποιημένο αλλά με έναν διαφορετικό τρόπο. «Η δουλειά του «Μπαρμπα-Μήτσου» δεν ήταν πια να εξυπηρετεί πελάτες, αλλά να κάθεται με τις ώρες να κουβεντιάζει μαζί τους και να διηγείται ιστορίες. Και θυμάμαι τον θείο μου να βοηθά τους πάντες όποτε μπορούσε. Έναν καιρό ήθελα να φέρω έναν φίλο μου από την Ελλάδα στη Γερμανία και τον άφησα εκεί να μείνει. Όταν δεν είχες λεφτά, πήγαινες στον «Μπαρμπα-Μήτσο» και έλεγες: «Μπαρμπα-Μήτσο, δεν μπορώ να πληρώσω». Εκείνος έλεγε: «Κάτσε και φάε, φέρε τον φίλο σου και όταν ξαναέχεις λεφτά, μπορείς να πληρώσεις και αν δεν έχεις, πάλι όλα καλά». Όταν οι Ελληνίδες και οι Έλληνες έψαχναν να βρουν έναν καινούριο χώρο για την εκκλησία τους, έβαλε μέσο τις επαφές του και έτσι μπόρεσε να βοηθήσει την ελληνική κοινότητα να μετακομίσει στην Krypta της εκκλησίας του St. Joseph. Από τότε και μετά, το «Ακρόπολις» μετά την λειτουργία ήταν, κάθε Κυριακή, το κέντρο των Ελληνίδων και των Ελλήνων του Ντούισμπουργκ». «Υπήρχαν πολλές γιορτές. Όταν ως φοιτητής εργαζόμουν σερβιτόρος, καθαρίζαμε αφότου έφευγαν οι τελευταίοι πελάτες. Και τότε έρχονταν οι καλοί φίλοι», μας λέει ο Μάκης Παλτόγλου γελώντας. «Παίρναμε για τον εαυτό μας μεζέδες και μπύρες και μέχρι τις έξι το πρωΐ παίζαμε χαρτιά». Γι’αυτόν το «Ακρόπολις» ήταν από τους πρώτους πολυπολιτισμικούς χώρους. «Έρχονταν όλοι, Τούρκοι και Κούρδοι, Ισπανοί, Ιταλοί και επίσης άνθρωποι από την Αφρική οι οποίοι τότε δεν ήταν και πολλοί στην πόλη». Ο Tayfun Demir βίωσε κι αυτός την ταβέρνα «Ακρόπολις» ως έναν ανοιχτό χώρο. «Για εμάς ήταν ενδιαφέρον το γεγονός ότι και εμείς ως αριστεροί στην Τουρκία έχουμε ένα ιδιαίτερο ενδιαφέρον για τους Έλληνες και την Ελλάδα. Π.χ. οι αναγκαστικές εκτοπίσεις και τα πογκρόμ εναντίων του ελληνισμού στην Ισταμπούλ, ήταν για την αντιπολίτευση πάντα μια λυπηρή υπόθεση. Και η «Ακρόπολις» ήταν για εμάς ένα είδος πατρίδας 287 κι ένα καταφύγιο. Υπήρχε μεσογειακό φαγητό, ακούγαμε ευχάριστα ελληνική μουσική, τραγούδια του Θεοδωράκη, που τα είχε συνθέσει μες στη φυλακή ενάντια στη στρατιωτική δικτατορία. Αυτό ήταν για εμάς καταπληκτικό. Και εκεί που τρώγαμε και διασκεδάζαμε, γιορτάζαμε και μάλιστα μια φορά τραγουδήσαμε μαζί με είκοσι ανθρώπους διάφορα λαϊκά τούρκικα τραγούδια.»2 Ο Tayfun Demir έφυγε από την Τουρκία για πολιτικούς λόγους στο τέλος της δεκαετίας του 1970. Αμέσως μετά το στρατιωτικό πραξικόπημα, δηλαδή το 1980, πολιτικά διωγμένες Τουρκάλες και διωγμένοι Τούρκοι ήρθαν στη Γερμανία και στο Ντούισμπουργκ μαζεύονταν τακτικά στην ταβέρνα «Ακρόπολις». «Υπήρχαν επομένως ελληνο-τουρκικές προσεγγίσεις. Αλλά δεν ήταν συνειδητά με σκοπό την «πολυπολιτισμικότητα», όπως εμείς γνωρίζουμε σήμερα την έννοια αυτή. Ήταν στο πνεύμα της διεθνούς πολιτικής αλληλεγγύης. Κατά τα άλλα οι Ελληνίδες και οι Έλληνες πήγαιναν στις δικές τους καφετέριες στο Hochfeld και οι Τουρκάλες και οι Τούρκοι στα δικά τους στέκια.» Το «Ακρόπολις» ήταν λοιπόν κάτι περισσότερο από ένα ελληνικό εστιατόριο. Εκεί συνταντιόταν για παράδειγμα και η πρωτοβουλία πολιτών της συνοικίας, στην οποία συμμετείχε ο Tayfun Demir. Στη σάλα του «Ακρόπολις» συν-οργάνωσε κι ένα συμπόσιο για την μετανάστευση και την παιδική λογοτεχνία με καλεσμένους από ολόκληρη τη Γερμανία. Έτσι λοιπόν, απήγγειλαν στο «Ακρόπολις» και συγγραφείς όπως ο Rafik Shami και ο Sinasi Dikmen. «Ήθελα να γράψω όπως ο Schiller ή ο Shakespeare, όμως έγινα πρώτα χασικλής και μετά φονιάς στο παιχνίδι αυτό» (Λάκμανν 2012) Αυτές οι γραμμές είναι του Ευάγγελου Πολυχρονίδη, πιο γνωστό ως Lakmann, ο οποίος ειναι ράπερ, μέλος των μουσικών σχημάτων Creutzfeld & Jakob και Witten Untouchable. Ποιές συνεκτικές γραμμές υπάρχουν ανάμεσα στην πρώτη γενιά, με τόπους αναφοράς όπως την ταβέρνα «Ακρόπολις» (μια «φωλιά» για τους «συμπατριώτες», που με την πάροδο του χρόνου έγινε ένας χώρος συνάντησης για όλους ) και την τρίτη γενιά, που γεννήθηκε στη Γερμανία και στο παράδειγμα του Lakmann παράγει γερμανική ραπ; Bridget Fonkeu (Εικόνα 5 – Λάκμανν, p.179) «Και ο παππούς μου έφυγε από την χούντα και υποστήριξε - μέσω Γιουγκοσλαβίας - για πολλά χρόνια τους αγωνιστές στην Ελλάδα με όπλα και χρήματα. Αυτά είναι πράγματα, που τα έμαθα αφότου ενηλικιώθηκα. Είναι, πιστεύω, μία κλασσική ιστορία πολλών ανθρώπων αυτής της πρώτης γενιάς. Για μένα αυτό είναι το ζουμί της ελληνικής κουλτούρας, το ρέμπελο, το ρεμπέτικο κτλ. Τέτοιες ιστορίες τις ακούω από πολλούς, και συνήθως μαθαίνουμε τέτοια πράγματα εκ των υστέρων. Δεν την ήξερα για πολλά χρόνια αυτή την ιστορία της οικογένειάς μου. Όταν μεγάλωνα, μου’ λεγε ο πατέρας μου: «Ξέρεις, ο παππούς σου είχε κάνει διάφορα». Ο παππούς μου ήταν και ενεργός στην ελληνική κοινότητα του Βίττεν. Τους έβλεπες αργότερα φιλήσυχα παππουδάκια, αλλά τελικά κι αυτοί δεν έφυγαν από την Ελλάδα χωρίς λόγο. Οι περισσότεροι τελικά προσπάθησαν να ζήσουν εδώ απλά και ειρηνικά και να δημιουργήσουν μια οικογένεια. Ο παππούς μου δούλεψε ως μηχανικός για τριανταδύο χρόνια στην εταιρεία Opel, εφόσον άφησε όλα τα δύσκολα πίσω του.»3 Ο Λάκμανν είναι ενεργός ως καλλιτέχνης πάνω από δύο δεκαετίες, κρατά ψηλά τη σημαία της ραπ μουσικής και δεν κολακεύεται από εμπορικές καταστάσεις. « Όταν βλέπω σήμερα γερμανική ραπ και χιπ-χοπ μουσική, εκεί είναι που ξερνάω για τα καλά. Με αυτό το χυλό από βία, σεξισμό, γκλαμουριά, μπλινκ-μπλινκ, πολυτελή αυτοκίνητα και ματσίσμο μου σηκώνονται οι τρίχες.» Για τους φανατικούς του οπαδούς, ο Λάκμανν είναι καλτ. Η ελληνική του καταγωγή, όμως, δεν παίζει κανένα ρόλο στη μουσική του. Καμία αναφορά, σχεδόν ποτέ και πουθενά, παρά το ότι μέχρι την ηλικία των πέντε είχε περάσει πολύ χρόνο με τον παππού και την γιαγιά του. Μίλαγε μόνο ελληνικά και είχε μάθει απ’έξω τους μύθους του Ηρακλή. Ως μικρό παιδί φόραγε παραδοσιακή φορεσιά, όταν με τους γονείς του και τους φίλους τους συμμετείχαν σε φεστιβάλ με το χορευτικό συγκρότημα «Απόλλων» του Βίττεν. «Ναι μεν αυτή είναι η οικογένειά μου και η κουλτούρα μου, άλλα δεν ένιωθα ποτέ την ανάγκη να την μεταφέρω στη χιπ-χοπ μουσική. Μου ήταν σημαντικό αυτό. Δεν μου άρεσε ποτέ όταν το έφτιαχνε κάποιος. Το βρίσκω αρνητικό να ποζάρεις στην χιπ-χοπ με την εθνική σου ταυτότητα 288 και να προσπαθείς με αυτόν τον τρόπο να δημιουργήσεις κοινό. Δεν ήταν αυτός ο λόγος που ξεκίνησα με την ραπ. Ήταν εντελώς αδιάφορο, αν ήσουν Έλληνας, Γερμανός, Τούρκος, Κούρδος ή Άραβας. Όλοι οι φίλοι μου, με τους οποίους έχω μεγαλώσει, ήταν Κούρδοι και Τούρκοι. Και για μένα ήταν πάντα αρκετά σημαντικό ότι η χιπ-χοπ παρουσιάζει και εκφράζει μια κουλτούρα στην οποία δεν είναι σημαντική η καταγωγή σου.» Κι όμως. Παρόλο που από τα σχολικά του χρόνια είχε αποβάλει την ελληνική του ταυτότητα και ως έφηβος αισθανόταν τις επισκέψες σε ελληνικά γλέντια απλά ως υποχρεώση, τα ελληνικά του δεν εξαφανίστηκαν. Οι τόποι του παρελθόντος, το μπουζουξίδικο στο Μπόχουμ για παράδειγμα, στο οποίο οι γονείς του γλεντούσαν, δεν υπάρχουν πια. Ο ελληνικός τρόπος ζωής είναι για τον ράπερ στο Βίττεν πλέον «αυτό που πάντα στην καρδιά μου κουβαλώ». Το φαγητό, η μουσική, ο αέρας, οι άνθρωποι αλλά και μία σκέψη, η οποία φαινόταν αδιανόητη όσο ήταν ακόμη εικοσάρης: «Πίστευα ότι, επειδή γεννήθηκα εδώ, θα είμαι η πρώτη γενιά στην οικογένειά μου, που θα γεράσει μένοντας στην Γερμανία. Έλα όμως, που όσο μεγαλώνω, τόσο συχνότερα παρατηρώ στον εαυτό μου, να μου αρέσει η ιδέα να ζήσω στα γεράματα στην Ελλάδα κοντά στη θάλασσα και όχι στην Γερμανία με τα κρύα της». (Εικόνα 6 - Ακρόπολις, p.181) Αυτό έπραξε κι ο «Μπαρμα-Μήτσος» του «Ακρόπολις». Συνταξιούχος επέστρεψε στην Ελλάδα και μετακόμισε σε ένα σπίτι δίπλα στη θάλασσα. Μετά από τριάντα χρόνια ως εστιάτορας είχε αναγκαστεί να κλείσει την ταβέρνα «Ακρόπολις», επειδή ο δήμος του Ντούισμπουργκ έλυσε το συμβόλαιο ενοικίασης. Σήμερα σε αυτό το μέρος, δίπλα από τον κινηματογράφο Filmforum, βρίσκεται το Grammatikoff, μια μπυραρία με πολιτιστικό πρόγραμμα, η οποία όμως τον καιρό που γράφτηκαν αυτές οι σειρές σε καιρό πανδημίας, ήταν κλειστό. Όταν ο Μάκης Παλτόγλου περνούσε κάπου-κάπου από εκεί, τίποτα για αυτόν δεν ήταν το ίδιο. Σκεφτόταν νοσταλγικά τη ζεστή και εγκάρδια ατμόσφαιρα που επικρατούσε σε αυτόν τον χώρο κάποτε. Τέλος, ο «Μπαρμπα-Μήτσος», όταν το 2007 επισκέφθηκε για τελευταία φορά το Ντούισμπουργκ, είχε κατγράψει τι του έκανε εντύπωση. Ο «Καλυψώ», το αλλοτινό αφεντικό της τοπικής μαφίας, είχε κα- Bridget Fonkeu ταντήσει ζητιάνος, να βολοδέρνει από μπυραρία σε μπυραρία κάνοντας τράκα για να τον κεράσει κανείς καμμιά μπύρα. 1 Το παράθεμα και οι πληροφορίες προέρχονται από προσωπικές συνομιλίες με τον Ευθύμιο Παλτόγλου το Δεκέμβριο του 2020. 2 Το παράθεμα και οι πληροφορίες προέρχονται από μια προσωπική συνομιλία με τον Tayfun Demir τον Ιανουάριο του 2021. 3 Το παράθεμα και οι πληροφορίες προέρχονται από μια προσωπική συνομιλία με τον Ευάγγελο Πολυχρονίδη τον Ιανουάριο του 2021. Πηγές Ευθύμιος Παλτόγλου, Ο Μπάρμπα Μήτσος της «Aκρόπολης», ανέκδοτο χειρόγραφο, Ντούισμπουργκ 2012 Μιλτιάδης Ούλιος, Köln kosmopolitisch. Wie wir unsere Kultur neu erfinden (Κοσμοπολίτικη Κολωνία. Πως εφεύρουμε τον πολιτισμό μας εκ νέου), Κολωνία 2018. Λάκμανν (Lakmann), Wofür mach ich das? (Για ποιό λόγο το κάνω;), https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e56k5abS2Ts&list=RDe 56k5abS2Ts&start_radio=1 (10.04.2021), 2012. 289 p.192 Shaping the voids Donner forme aux espaces En conversation: Eva Busch (atelier automatique), Guy Dermosessian (Kalakuta Soul Records), Abdou Diamé (Teranga Bochum e.V.) Traduction: Laura Strack Eva Busch est curatrice et travailleuse culturelle originaire de Bochum. Elle s’intéresse au lien entre travail mémoriel et critique du pouvoir, au thème de la différence et aux possibilités d’un devenir commun. Elle situe sa pratique dans l’atelier automatique à Bochum. Cet atelier collaboratif fondé en 2016/17 dans la Rottstraße est un lieu où la création, la présentation et la discussion d’œuvres artistiques s’accompagnent d’une recherche continue de formes de production artistique solidaires. Guy Dermosessian est né à Beyrouth. Il est DJ, artiste, curateur et fondateur du label de musique Kalakuta Soul Records. Depuis 2019, il dirige le département Diversity du théâtre de Düsseldorf ainsi que la série de rencontres Embracing Realities. Actuellement, il travaille avec Gin Bali, Monita Wagma et Kübra Sekin sur la création d’une nouvelle radio associative située à Bochum. Le DJ, musicien, organisateur et producteur Abdou Diamé alias D'Jammeh a quitté Paris au milieu des années 90 pour s’installer à Berlin. Depuis 2000, il travaille dans divers contextes artistiques et culturels, principalement en Rhénanie-du-NordWestphalie. L’association Teranga Bochum a été fondée en 2019 dans le but de promouvoir l’échange culturel et la rencontre entre personnes avec ou sans expérience migratoire. L’association organise l‘Afrika Festival Bochum dont la première édition a eu lieu à l’été 2019. Fabian Saavedra-Lara (FSL) : Pourriez-vous nous raconter quelle forme a pris notre collaboration dans le cadre d’Interkultur Ruhr, c’està-dire, nous parler un peu des projets qu’on a réalisés ensemble et de vos expériences relatives au sein de ces projets ? J’imagine qu’en regardant de près vos différentes activités à Bochum, on va sûrement beaucoup parler de musique. Guy Dermosessian (GD) : Alors, selon ma vision des choses, notre collaboration pour Off the Record a commencé suite à ton initiative, Fabian, qui visait à créer, avec différents acteurs culturels locaux et en coopération avec Avril Ceballos de Cómeme Records, une es- Miltiadis Oulios pèce de réseau englobant toute la région de la Ruhr. Il s’agissait d’aborder des questions concernant la culture pop et club à un niveau local et régional, mais aussi dans son rapport plus ample à la dimension globale. Ce n’était pas très clair à l’époque : Est-ce que cela allait prendre une forme spécifique ? Est-ce qu’on allait organiser des manifestations culturelles ? Ou n’était-ce qu’une simple rencontre de réseau ? Allait-il y avoir une dimension discursive ? C’est à partir de telles réflexions qu’a été créé Off the Record : quels formats initier pour hisser les thèmes de l’univers pop et club à un niveau culturel et pour parler, à ce niveau-là, des mécanismes d’exclusion qui ne cessent de se reproduire ? On parlait alors soit d’espaces, dans lesquels ces pratiques culturelles allaient pouvoir apparaître, soit de questions économiques. Une des questions centrales était : qui profite de ces phénomènes culturels ? A partir de quel moment ces phénomènes et pratiques trouvent-ils la reconnaissance qu’ils méritent ? L’expérience que nous avons faite avec nos labels – Avril avec le sien, et moi avec le mien à Bochum – nous a tout de suite projetés dans une discussion sur le rapport entre les cultures pop du Sud global ou des différentes diasporas en Allemagne d’un côté et la vision toujours hégémonique qu’à l’Allemagne des cultures pop et club de l’autre. Quel est le rapport entre cette hégémonie et une certaine monétarisation ou précarisation ? Cela a été le point de départ, et c’est à partir de là qu’on a commencé à inviter certaines personnes. Pour la première édition, on avait invité Jannis Stürtz de Habibi Funk et Ernesto Chaoud. Ce choix est dû au fait que Jannis est un homme blanc d’origine allemande qui tire profit d’une culture musicale d’origine arabe, venant du Moyen Orient ou du Nord de l’Afrique. En même temps, il la popularise dans l’univers musical européen. Ernesto Chahoud, lui, est un protagoniste de la scène de Beyrouth, qui lutte sur place et dans tout le monde arabe pour une culture club arabe, en montrant au public qu’il existe quelque chose comme une culture de danse et club locale ou régionale. Que ce n’était point un pas émancipateur venant d’Europe, mais qu’on avait simplement négligé pendant longtemps l’évolution sur place. Ce type d’interaction et de tension a été présent dans toutes les manifestations que nous avons réalisées. 290 Eva Busch (EB) : Je me souviens très bien de cette soirée avec Jannis et Ernesto. Je faisais alors partie du public. La salle était tellement pleine de gens que j’avais du mal à rentrer. Ce qui m’a le plus impressionnée, c’était cette manière extrêmement précise de parler et d’écouter. J’avais l’impression que quelque chose était devenu possible, et ce quelque chose est exactement ce qui m’intéresse dans mon travail à l’atelier automatique : créer des espaces dans lesquels on peut parler de façon complexe, différenciée, mais pas trop abstraite et académique non plus, pour que des rencontres surprenantes et inattendues puissent advenir. C’est une partie de ce qui m’anime dans mon travail à l’atelier automatique. Guy est venu vers moi et m’a demandé si on était intéressé à accueillir, ici à l’atelier, une soirée avec Kornelia Binicewicz. C’était en 2018, si ma mémoire est bonne. En vérité, notre espace est un espace de travail. Mais parfois nous organisons aussi des événements, et souvent il s’agit de thématiques en lien avec le féminisme. Dans ce que m’avait dit Guy, j’avais compris que notre espace lui semblait adéquat pour cette soirée avec Kornelia, qui, elle, dans son activité de collectionneuse et de DJ, met systématiquement l’accent sur la musique de femmes, surtout de femmes de Turquie. Cela m’a fait plaisir, puisque ce format des Listening Sessions me plaît beaucoup, cet entrelacs de différents discours, mais aussi simplement d’une joie commune émanant du partage de musiques. Deux Listening Sessions ont alors eu lieu chez nous, la première avec Kornelia Binicewicz et puis la seconde avec Hiba Salameh, à laquelle nous avons ajouté Banafshe Hourmazdi en tant que présentatrice et interlocutrice. Toutes les deux fois, les conversations qui se sont déployées dans cet espace m’ont beaucoup inspirée. Et puis, il y a une autre correspondance qui n’est sûrement pas complètement arbitraire : en 2018, Julia Nitschke et moi étions en train de réaliser un projet sur l’histoire des luttes féministes dans la ville de Bochum. Cela a été un projet de recherche et d’exposition sous le titre de Emanzenexpress, gemeinsam sind wir gemeiner [à peu près : L’express des féministes – soyons ensemble femmes infâmes, ndt]. A cet effet, nous nous sommes rendues dans trois archives féministes de Bochum pour mener des recherches sur l’histoire des luttes Miltiadis Oulios féministes qui ont eu lieu ici à Bochum dans les années 80 et 90. Suite à ce travail de recherche, nous avons réalisé une exposition de deux mois ainsi qu’un espace de rencontre. Il s’agissait aussi d’étudier les pratiques esthétiques de cette époque, et les vinyles de Kornelia ont parfaitement répondu à ce désir. FSL : Abdou, pourrais-tu nous raconter ce que fait l’association Teranga Bochum et quelle forme a pris notre collaboration ? Abdou Diamé (AD) : Moi, j’ai deux fers au feu. Depuis désormais presque 30 ans, je travaille en Allemagne en tant que DJ et organisateur de festivals. Teranga signifie « hospitalité » en wolof, ma langue maternelle du Sénégal. Nous essayons de faire un travail interculturel affirmant que oui, nous aussi, on fait partie du truc. Cela veut dire de mettre en question les structures établies de ce lieu. Pourquoi y a-t-il tant d’organisations africaines qui n’osent pas s’adresser à un organisme comme Interkultur Ruhr ? Donc, cela m’a frappé que vous m’ayez soutenu lors du premier festival. Comme j’ai dit, je travaille en tant que DJ, mais depuis deux ans, je travaille aussi avec ma propre association Teranga Bochum, par l’intermédiaire de laquelle j’ai créé, avec un groupe d’ami·e·s, un nouveau festival de musique à Bochum. FSL : On était censé travailler ensemble pour Le calendrier interculturel aussi … AD : Oui, cela aurait été chouette. On voulait organiser une fête à l’occasion de la rupture du jeûne à la fin du Ramadan. Au Sénégal, le Ramadan signifie non seulement le jeûne, mais aussi une fête à la fin de celui-ci, une soirée, peu importe où, où les gens se rencontrent selon la devise : il ne s’agit pas que de prier, mais aussi d’autres choses aussi importantes. En 2020, on voulait organiser une petite fête avec des groupes de musique. J’aurais tellement aimé inviter un groupe de Paris. Malheureusement cela n’a pas marché à cause de la pandémie. Ça aurait eu lieu au Consol Theater, à Gelsenkirchen. On voulait offrir à manger et à boire, pour montrer à quel point cela peut être simple de vivre ensemble avec beaucoup de gens de religions différentes, tout comme on le fait lors de la rupture du jeûne au Sénégal. FSL : Espérons alors qu’on aura l’occasion de rattraper cela. Il y a une question qu’on pose à tou·te·s nos interlocuteur·rice·s. Quand Johanna et moi avons commencé notre travail au sein du projet Interkultur Ruhr en 2016, on a 291 aussi voulu prendre le concept d’interculturalité à contre-poil, pour pouvoir mieux réfléchir à ce que nous pouvons encore articuler avec ce mot. C’est à partir de là qu’est née l’idée de parler de la migration des sons, des rythmes et des musiques. Je pense que cela serait intéressant pour notre conversation d’entendre votre rapport avec ce concept, s’il signifie quelque chose dans votre travail et ce que cela pourrait bien être. EB : Je n’appelle pas mon travail un travail interculturel. Je n’ai jamais employé ce concept pour décrire mon travail, en tout cas, je ne m’en souviens pas. À la limite, je pourrais dire que le travail ici à l’atelier est interculturel dans la mesure où il s’adresse à des gens quelque part entre un public de jazz bourgeois et la fantifa [à peu près : perspectives féministes d’une politique antifasciste, ndt]. Peut-être y a-t-il quelque chose d’interculturel là-dedans ? Pour moi, ce concept signifie, entre autres, que notre société est structurée par des phénomènes de pouvoir. Et oui, l’étude des mécanismes d’exclusion et des différentes formes de discrimination joue un rôle important dans mon travail. Il est très marqué par le fait qu’on échoue constamment, qu’on réessaie constamment, qu’on ne cesse jamais de repenser autrement, dans l’espérance de pouvoir se retrouver différemment à la fin. Peut-être que cela a quelque chose à voir avec le concept d’interculturalité, mais en fait, moi, je ne l’emploie pas. AD : Moi, je l’utilise, parce qu’il rappelle l’importance de reconnaître la diversité des cultures et la différence en général. Cela est crucial dans des réseaux comme celui d’Interkultur Ruhr. Je dis toujours que la culture n’est pas à sens unique, où l’on saurait à tout moment dans quelle direction aller. C’est quelque chose de très intéressant, non ? Il faut admettre aussi que beaucoup de choses ont changé avec le temps. Il y a beaucoup plus de conscience critique aujourd’hui qu’il y a, admettons, 30, 40, 50 ans. C’est pour ça que je n’ai pas beaucoup de mal à utiliser ce mot, puisqu’il fait partie de notre vie quotidienne aujourd’hui. EB : Je viens d’y réfléchir encore un peu : le fait que je ne fais pas vraiment recours à ce concept me semble être dû aussi à ma position structurellement blanche ; j’ai peut-être peur d’attribuer quelque chose à des personnes en l’utilisant, et c’est quelque chose que je ne veux absolument pas. Miltiadis Oulios AD : C’est intéressant ce que tu dis, puisqu’on a eu cette discussion lorsque je travaillais à la radio Funkhaus Europa. Au début, on était tout·e·s réuni·e·s et moi, je faisais partie de celles et ceux qui ne voulaient pas de concepts tels que « Global Sound ». C’était ma spécialité de faire venir des musicien·ne·s de l’Afrique en Europe. J’ai toujours essayé d’expliquer aux gens : il n’y a pas qu’une musique en Afrique. Si tu es dans un pays comme le Sénégal, il y a douze groupes de population différents et chacun a son propre rythme, sa propre mélodie, sa propre musique. Cela est un fait. Tu vois ce que je veux dire ? EB : Oui, je crois. Je ne parle pas d’une angoisse vis-à-vis de ce que tu décris comme interculturel. Mais je pense qu’il y a un discours autour du concept d’interculturalité qui est très blanc dans ses fonctions et ses dynamiques, et que ce discours a tendance à réduire les gens à des affirmations telles que : « Maintenant tu dois faire de la musique africaine », ou qu’est-ce que j’en sais. Et c’est quelque chose qu’on reproduit constamment. C’est pour ça que je n’aime pas trop utiliser ce concept, au moins pas à partir de ma situation personnelle. AD : Bien sûr, je comprends tout à fait. Mais c’est pour cela que j’ai dit tout à l’heure : la culture, ce n’est pas à sens unique. Aujourd’hui nous avons la possibilité de parler à quatre depuis quatre lieux différents, tout en nous regardant dans les yeux. Il y a 20 ans, cette possibilité n’existait pas, ou cela aurait été très difficile. La culture évolue et change. GD : Moi, j’ai souvent affaire à ce concept, dans différentes constellations familiales et professionnelles. J’ai eu pas mal de difficultés avec ce concept avant de le forger à ma façon, de manière à pouvoir considérer ce qu’on indique par « interculturalité » comme un espace auquel donner une forme, et non pas comme une contrainte. Lors d’une très longue conversation l’année dernière, j’ai constaté que la perspective des personnes issues de la deuxième, troisième génération n’est pas forcément comparable à celle de la première génération. Je le vois chez mes propres enfants dont la perspective a souvent su me surprendre. A un certain point, mon refus du concept s‘est transformé en une espèce d’appropriation, et ce à un niveau où on peut négocier collectivement à quelle condition ce concept peut fonctionner pour nous. Ce que Abdou a décrit : célébrer 292 certaines perfections culturelles, mais aussi utiliser cet espace pour une rencontre, pour un déploiement, pour un devenir communauté. Et l’un, et l’autre, les deux en même temps. Cela m’a encouragé puisque j’ai redécouvert que je ne me retrouve pas toujours dans un combat, mais que je peux aussi m’approprier cet espace pour recommencer à l’imaginer moimême – et ce à partir de moi-même et non pas à partir des attentes par rapport à ce que je serais peut-être censé faire. FSL : Chère Eva, cher Abdou, cher Guy, merci beaucoup pour cette belle conversation. Miltiadis Oulios p.198 Taking home outside Das Zuhause nach draußen tragen Im Gespräch: Marisa Álvarez, Virginia Novarin, Josué Partida (Día de Muertos Dortmund) Übersetzung: Fabian Saavedra-Lara Das aus Mittelamerika stammende Fest der Toten (Día de Muertos) Dortmund ist ein Projekt von Josué Partida und Virginia Novarin, das auf sehr lebendige Weise der Verstorbenen gedenkt. Das Fest der Toten Dortmund findet jedes Jahr am letzten Oktoberwochenende statt. Josué Partida (JP): Mein Name ist Josué Partida, ich bin Mexikaner und wohne seit 16 Jahren in Deutschland. Eigentlich hat mich die Ingenieurswissenschaft nach Deutschland, nach Dortmund gebracht, aber mein Interesse galt immer schon der Musik. Und jetzt widme ich mich ihr am meisten. Ich bin Elektroingenieur und habe an der Technischen Universität Dortmund den Master Robotik studiert. Mein Studium hatte auch viel mit Ton zu tun und mit dem, was ich beruflich mache. Dieser Bereich hat mich schon immer interessiert und irgendwann habe ich angefangen, weniger als Ingenieur zu arbeiten und mich mehr mit Tontechnik zu beschäftigen. Ich habe mehr und mehr Musik gemacht und dabei viele Leute in diesem Bereich kennengelernt. Unter anderem auch Martin Schneider. Er ist Singer-Songwriter und hatte damals eine Band namens Scherbenwelt. Ich war auf Jobsuche und hatte noch drei Monate hier in Dortmund, aber als ich ihn kennenlernte, habe ich gesehen, dass es wirklich möglich ist, mit Musik auch etwas ›Ernsthaftes‹ zu machen. Von da an schien es mir möglich, diesen Traum zu verfolgen. Heute bin rund um die Uhr mit Musik beschäftigt. Ich betreibe ein Musikstudio, in dem ich hauptsächlich meine Musik produziere, aber auch andere Projekte, die mich interessieren. In letzter Zeit haben wir vor allem mit meiner Frau Marisa Álvarez Projekte gemacht, um lateinamerikanische Musik mit anderen Rhythmen der Welt und digitaler Technik zu mixen – also Elementen, die üblicherweise nicht zur traditionellen Musik gehören. Das mag ich sehr: die Verbindung der technischen mit der künstlerischen Seite. Ich bin seit 16 Jahren hier in Deutschland und 293 freue mich darüber, in Dortmund zu sein. Dortmund ist meine zweite Heimat geworden, weil die Stadt mir wirklich alle meine Wünsche erfüllt hat – in beruflicher Hinsicht, aber auch auf der künstlerischen und persönlichen Seite. Dortmund hat mir großartige Freunde gebracht und erlaubt, mir diesen Traum der Verknüpfung von Arbeit mit Kunst zu erfüllen. Ich bin sehr glücklich, hier zu sein. Fabian Saavedra-Lara (FSL): Und Marisa, wie lange bist du schon in Deutschland? Marisa Álvarez (MA): Ich bin die Neueste hier, im Januar (2021) werden es zwei Jahre sein. Vorher wusste ich nicht, dass Dortmund überhaupt existiert. FSL: Kanntest du nicht den Fußballverein? MA: Nein, ich bin nicht so ein Fußballfan. Aber meine Mutter hat immer gesagt: »Ach ja, Dortmund, Leverkusen, Bayern.« Und ich so: »Ok ...« Aber nein, ich hatte den Namen nie gehört. Aber als ich für eine erste Tour nach Deutschland kommen wollte, erfuhr ich, dass Josué hier wohnt. Er ist nämlich der Freund eines Freundes. Und dieser Freund sagte mir: »Ach ja, der kann dir helfen, der ist Mexikaner, kennt sich mit Musik aus, ist Ingenieur, der studiert an der gleichen Universität wie du und kann dir ein paar Tipps geben.« Nun ja, er hat mir sehr geholfen, zu verstehen, wie die Musikwelt funktioniert und wie ich mich als Mexikanerin hier bewegen kann – also wurden wir gute Freunde. Wir begannen, zusammen zu arbeiten. Er lud mich zum Fest ein, das er mit Virginia organisiert: das Fest der Toten. Ich hatte eine Catrina Show, die ich für ein anderes Fest in Paris vorbereitet hatte. Vieles von dem, was wir so machten und im Leben wollten, war ähnlich. Wir haben uns immer besser verstanden und jetzt leben wir zusammen. Wir haben eine Menge Projekte, an denen wir jeden Tag arbeiten, und ich bin total gespannt darauf. Dortmund hat mir viele Dinge gegeben, die ich nie erwartet hätte. Und ich liebe diesen Ort, den ich mir nie hätte vorstellen können, weil es ja keine Erwartungen gab, nicht wahr? Alles war eine Überraschung, und es ist ein schönes Geschenk, Leute wie euch kennenzulernen. Es ist wie eine schöne Familie, die ich mir da gebastelt habe. Und dieses Fest war dann der Antrieb für mehrere Sachen. Als ich eingeladen wurde, wieder daran teilzunehmen, bereitete ich noch mehr Sachen vor, die ich auch für meine eigene Show gebrauchen konnte. Und Miltiadis Oulios jetzt organisieren wir diese Dinge schon seit mehreren Jahren. Kostüme, Musik, Videos … Ich liebe das Projekt, das sich diese beiden Zauberer*innen hier neben mir ausgedacht haben; sie schaffen Magie aus dem Nichts, und plötzlich, bumm! Und ich liebe es, ein Teil davon zu sein. FSL: Und was ist dein Eindruck von der Region, Marisa? Ihr habt Dortmund als Stadt in unterschiedlichen Momenten kennengelernt, nicht wahr? Wie siehst du die Region, die Stadt, das Ruhrgebiet ...? MA: Also, für mich war es eine große Überraschung, weil ich, wie gesagt, weder Erwartungen noch eine Vorstellung hatte. Die einzige Vorstellung, die ich von Deutschland hatte, war vielleicht eine aus Filmen und Büchern, und die haben nichts mit dem zu tun, was Dortmund tatsächlich ist. Also war der erste Eindruck: »Was ist das? Wo bin ich gelandet?« Es war nicht, wie ich es mir vorgestellt hatte. Aber pass‘ auf: Seit meiner Jugend wollte ich an einem Ort wohnen, der international und multikulturell ist, und mein Ideal war New York. Naheliegend, nicht wahr? Ich hatte den Traum, eines Tages dort zu leben. Meine Schwester wohnt seit mehreren Jahren dort, ich habe sie ein paar Mal besucht und ich liebe diesen Ort. Aber nachdem ich hier einige Monate gewohnt hatte, merkte ich, dass Dortmund mir viel gegeben hatte von dem, was ich wollte, wenn nicht alles, oder? Und dass es ein multikultureller Ort ist, voller Unterschiede, mit Überraschungen an jeder Ecke. Und ich liebe es, auf der Straße herumzulaufen und Menschen zu sehen, die verschiedene Sprachen sprechen, von denen ich nicht weiß, welche es sind, aber ich kann auf jeden Fall erkennen, dass sie anders sind. Das ist schön, oder? Zu sehen, dass so etwas an einem so kleinen Ort nebeneinander existieren kann. Es gibt so viele Kulturen hier, und ich glaube, dass sie die treibende Kraft hinter so vielen kulturellen und künstlerischen Entwicklungen sind. FSL: Deshalb sagen wir bei Interkultur Ruhr, dass diese Region, das Ruhrgebiet, so etwas wie der Kontinent Pangaea ist. Super kosmopolitisch und super divers. MA: Ja, ich nehme es auf jeden Fall so wahr. FSL: Und du, Virginia? Virginia Novarin (VN): Es ist interessant für mich, dieses Interview mit dir zu machen, Fabian, da wir uns vor langer Zeit kennengelernt 294 haben, als ich im Jahr 1998 nach Deutschland kam. FSL: Da war ich Teenager. VN: Was kann ich dir erzählen? Ich bin vor 23 Jahren von Buenos Aires nach Deutschland gekommen, direkt nach Dortmund. Alle haben mich gefragt: »Oh je, wie kannst du das überleben? Wie kannst du das Leben hier ertragen?« Der Blick auf das Ruhrgebiet hat sich in den letzten 20 Jahren verändert. Die Interkulturalität hat eine weitere Dimension angenommen. Ich war immer glücklich mit Dortmund, vielleicht, weil ich aus einer großen Stadt komme. Früher hieß es: »Das Ruhrgebiet ist hässlich und grau«, »woanders ist besser!«. Nun muss ich aber dazu sagen, dass ich mit einem Baby hierherkam und danach ein zweites Kind bekommen habe. Es vergingen ein paar Jahre, bevor ich meine künstlerische Tätigkeit wieder aufgenommen habe. Meine erste kulturelle Integration in Deutschland kam durch die Kinder, das soziale Leben, Ausflüge und so weiter. So wurde ich davon überrascht, dass Dortmund nicht nur grau ist. Es ist auch grün, es gibt so viel Wald, so viel Landschaft in der Stadt. Was kann man hier machen? Eigentlich alles. Wenn man aus einer riesigen Stadt wie Buenos Aires kommt, wo man stundenlang braucht, um von A nach B kommen, um jemanden zu treffen oder irgendeine kulturelle Veranstaltung zu besuchen, und man das mit der Fläche der Ruhrgebiets vergleicht, kommt man zu dem Schluss, dass das Ruhrgebiet eigentlich dasselbe ist ... Dortmund ist mein Wohnort, und für mich bedeutet das, dass meine Freunde hier sind, der Ort, an dem man sich persönlich und künstlerisch entwickeln kann, das Umfeld, in dem man lebt, und die Nähe. Ich habe in Buenos Aires Kunst studiert und mich auf Drucktechnik spezialisiert. In der Kunst habe ich immer alles Mögliche gemacht – in meinem Atelier arbeite ich an Skulpturen, ich male, ich zeichne ... Meine Arbeit ist vielfältig, ich arbeite an verschiedenen Objekten gleichzeitig. Wenn ich arbeite, bin ich mit meinen Gedanken oft woanders. Man braucht ein Ziel, einen Zweck, um Kunst zu machen; Bilder nur für eine Ausstellung zu malen oder um sie für später aufzubewahren, ist nicht so wichtig für mich. Es ist wichtig, mit Menschen zu interagieren, sich mit anderen auszutauschen, das nährt dich mit neuen Ideen ... Es eröffnet die Miltiadis Oulios Möglichkeit, mehr zu zeigen. FSL: Und wie ist die Initiative zum Fest der Toten entstanden? VN: Josué und ich haben uns im Jahr 2006 kennengelernt. Für eine Weile haben wir den Kontakt verloren. Jahre später haben wir uns zufällig im Rewe getroffen. Das ist auch das Gute an Dortmund. Josué lud mich im November zu seinem Fest der Toten bei sich zuhause ein. Die mexikanische Fiesta de muertos war mir aus meiner Zeit des Kunststudiums bekannt. Der präkolumbische, historische Teil der Totenopfer, die Illustrationen, Friese, Kostüme ... Der ›lebendige‹ Teil des Fests, die Musik, die Gedichte, das Essen, die Interaktion mit den Leuten, das habe ich nur auf seiner Party erlebt. In dem Moment hat es angefangen zu rattern in meinem Kopf. Das Thema brachte meine verschiedenen Interessen zusammen. Wie viele Jahre ist das her? JP: Etwa drei Jahre seit dem Fest der Toten mit Freund*innen. VN: Und dann, im letzten Jahr des Fests als private Feier, sagte ich ihm: »Josué, man sollte es größer machen.« Denn, was bei diesem Totenfest passiert, die Essenz, die Bedeutung, die diese Tradition hat, ist super wichtig. Das ist ein Thema, das uns alle angeht ... »Schade, dass es in deiner Wohnung nicht genug Platz gibt. Wenn du es nächstes Jahr machst, musst du es woanders machen, wo du mehr Leute beteiligen kannst.« In Gedanken war ich schon mit der Kleidung und Dekoration beschäftigt. Und ich habe ihn überzeugt, denn anfangs warst du etwas zurückhaltend. JP: Das Fest der Toten war schon immer eine sehr gemeinschaftliche Sache, und wir haben es schließlich im Projektspeicher hier in der Dortmunder Nordstadt gemacht. Sie halfen uns bei der Gestaltung der Einladung, sie haben uns den Veranstaltungsort zur Verfügung gestellt. Also waren viele Dinge bereits erledigt. FSL: Und es ist ein kompletter Erfolg. Ich war letztes Jahr (2019) dort, und es waren Hunderte von Menschen dabei. Das war großartig – und ist in der heutigen Zeit (2021) fast unvorstellbar, oder? JP: Es ist in den letzten vier Jahren sehr gewachsen ... Letztes Jahr war es sehr voll, und wir wussten nicht mehr, wo wir die Leute hinsetzen sollen. 295 VN: Wir versuchen, das Konzept unseres Fests der Toten jedes Jahr beizubehalten. Wir versuchen, dass es seinem Ursprung oder seinen Ursprüngen treu bleibt ... Wir wollen nicht, dass es den intimen Charakter eines Treffens von Freund*innen verliert... FSL: Mich interessiert in einem solchen Kontext die Mischung von unterschiedlichen Konzepten und Traditionen sehr, weißt du? JP: Wenn uns jemand fragt, was am Fest der Toten interkulturell ist, würde ich sagen: alles, oder? Angefangen damit, dass wir alle aus unterschiedlichen Ländern kommen, in einem dritten Land leben, um ein mexikanisches Fest zu organisieren, aber eben mit Elementen aus unterschiedlichen Ländern. Und das wollen wir auch ausdrücken. Also, es hat seinen Ursprung im mexikanischen Fest der Toten, und wir arbeiten mit diesen Elementen, weil sie, wie Virginia sagt, schöne Bilder sind. Wir nehmen also diese Elemente und bringen sie mit anderem zusammen, was uns gefällt, wie visuelle Aspekte, Design, Dekoration, die Musik, die wir machen, das Essen ... Und uns interessiert, Leute aus anderen Kulturen einzuladen, die ihre eigenen Ideen mitbringen. Das möchten wir noch mehr fördern, oder? Bis jetzt ging es ja sozusagen darum, unsere eigene Interkulturalität mitzuteilen. Aber wir würden gerne mehr mit der internationalen Community zusammenarbeiten. Das ist eine sehr persönliche Sache, es ist, als ob wir unser Wohnzimmer ausbreiten würden, unser Zuhause nach draußen tragen. FSL: Vielen Dank Virginia, Marisa, Josué. Ich wünsche euch alles Gute für die Zukunft und für eure verschiedenen Projekte und hoffe wirklich, dass wir uns bald persönlich sehen und euer Fest zusammen feiern können! Milena Yolova, Lajos Gabor p.246 “You set the tempo” “Tempoyu siz belirleyin!” Diyalog: Zekai Fenerci (Pottporus e.V.) Çeviri: Çiler Fırtına Pottporus derneği Ruhr metropolünde Hip Hop kültürünü desteklemek ve geliştirmek amacıyla Zekai Fenerci tarafından 2007 yılında Herne şehrinde kuruldu. Dernek çatısı altında Urban Art Festival adlı kentsel sanat festivali, Hip Hop Dans Akademisi ve gençlik alanında faal olan Genç Pottporus kuruldu. Genç Pottporus kapsamındaki çalışmalardan genç Hip Hop Takımı ve HipYo!Festivali doğdu. Kentsel Renegade Dans Kumpanyası’nı oluşturan Fenerci, Almanya genelinde ve uluslararası alanda başarılı dans tiyatro çalışmalarına imza attı, 2010-2017 yılları arasında dans sanatının yeniden Bochum belediye tiyatrosuna kazandırdı. Fabian Saavedra-Lara (FSL): Sevgili Zekai, sizde şu an durumlar nasıl? Zekai Fenerci (ZF): Oldukça karmaşık. Birçok şeyi erteledik ve doğal olarak kültür çalışmalarının bir gün tekrar yoluna girmesini umut ediyoruz. Güncel durum kültür için gerçekten tehlikeli; ama belki de bütün kültür inisiyatifleri açısından tekrar tekrar gündemlerine aldıkları, ama hiçbir zaman gerçekten sonuna kadar düşünemedikleri yeni fikirler ve projeler üzerine çalışmak için bir fırsat. FSL: Peki senin için bu düşünceler neler? ZF: Benim için en önemli soru her zaman şuydu: İnsanlar neden sanat tüketsinler? İnsanları sanatla ilişkiye sokan ihtiyaç nedir? Ve doğal olarak diyebilirim ki: Çünkü ben müziği çok seviyorum, severek okuyorum ve dans ediyorum. Ama yine de hep şunu merak ettim: İnsanların günlük hayatlarında kültürün olmasını istemelerinin gerçek sebebi nedir? İster sosyal anlamda zayıf ya da zengin olsunlar, ister entelektüel olsun veya olmasınlar, herkesin kültürle bir ilişkisi var. Sürekli bu sorularla uğraşıyordum; ama hiçbir zaman derinlikli tartışmak için zaman bulamamıştım. Örneğin bizim meselemiz neden Hip Hop? Birçok insan onunla temas ettiğinde kendisini neden iyi hissediyor? Onlara güven duygusu veren nedir? İşte bu güven duygusunu başkalarına vermek ve kültürü özendirenlerin aslında aktörler olduğunu görünür kılmak istiyorum. 296 FSL: Peki sen kendin için kültür ve sanatın, özellikle de Hip Hop kültürünün neden bu kadar önemli olduğuna dair bir cevap buldun mu? ZF: Hip Hop kültüründe özellikle kimlik arayışında olan göçmenlerin önemli bir faktör olduğunu düşünüyorum. Göçmenler tam olarak ne olduğunu bilmemekle birlikte Almanya’da bulamadıkları kimliği Hip Hop’ta arıyorlar, fakat bunu kendi mantıkları ve kültürlerinden hareket ederek yaptıklarını düşünüyorum. Ayrıca kendilerini yeniden keşfetmek için her zaman yeni olanaklar arıyorlar ve Hip Hop bu noktada önemli bir rol oynayabilir. Birlikte tartışmak için belirli bir bilgiye sahip olmaları beklenmiyor. Kendilerinin de henüz tam olarak tanımlayamadıkları, ama yine de yavaş yavaş içinde yer alabildikleri bir şeyin parçası olmaları sanırım onlara öncelikle bir özgürlük ve güven duygusu veriyor. Hip Hop kültürüne girmeyi zorlaştıran bir eşik yok, katılmak için sevmek yeterli. Fazla yoruma da gerek yok. ‘Ya, bu benim hoşuma gidiyor, bana hitap ediyor, içimde bir şeyleri harekete geçiriyor.’ demen yeterli. Ben kendi kendime hep acaba birbirimizden çok fazla şey mi bekliyoruz diye soruyorum. Sürekli daha yeni ve da iyi olma beklentimiz var, çünkü sürekli gelişiyoruz ve yeni düşünceler, yeni biçimler bulup çıkarmak istiyoruz. Bazen insanlardan çok fazla şey talep edildiğini hissediyorum. Biz de birbirimizden çok şey talep ediyoruz. Yapılan proje çağrıları hepimizden sürekli ve daha yeni fikirler, yeni yaklaşımlar üretmemizi bekliyor ki bu her zaman mantıklı olmuyor. Korona zamanında bunun üzerine çok düşündüm. Neden kültür üretenleri sürekli olarak yeni şeyler düşünme mecburiyetinde bırakıyoruz? Neden bir kere de bulduğumuz bir yolda, yeni bir ihtiyaç, yeni bir şey kendiliğinden ortaya çıkana kadar beraber gidemiyoruz? Bunu örneğin çocuklar ve gençler için bir kurs yaptığımızda yaşıyoruz. İlk önce tamamen Hip Hop hareketlerine odaklanıyorlar. Aradan bir, iki yıl geçtikten sonra “şimdi House veya başka bir tarz deneyelim” diyorlar. Yani, biz yönlendirmiyoruz, onların isteklerine göre hareket ediyoruz ve o zaman gerçekten çok iyi oluyor. İşte bu aralar bu konularla çok ilgileniyorum. Sanırım korona sonrası da beklenti ve ihtiyaçlarımız konusunda, barometreyi sıfırlar gibi çıtayı biraz düşürmemiz gerekiyor. “Tamam, gelin tekrar birlikte yeni bir yola çıkalım. Tempoyu siz belirleyin. Bu deneyin ne zaman ileriye gideceğine siz karar verin” demeliyiz. Milena Yolova, Lajos Gabor FSL: Bunu çok ilginç buluyorum. Bağımsız kültür çevreleri genel anlamda düzenli ve uzun süreli maddi desteğe ihtiyaçlarının olduğunu dile getiriyorlar. Yani artık sadece tek tek projeler yerine uzun süreli maddi destek sunan, kendilerine eşlik eden programlar nasıl olabilir diye düşünmek gerekiyor. ZF: Aynen öyle. Ama belki şunu da söylemek gerekir: Bir kültüre erişimi sağlayan temel kültür hizmetleri var, bir de deneysel kültür alanı var. Deneysel kültür yapan sanatçıların vizyonlarını gerçekleştirmeleri için kendilerine özgü korunaklı alanlara ihtiyaçları var. Ama bu alanın çerçevesi belli olmalı ve onların bu alanda kendi tempolarına göre gelişmelerine izin verilmeli. Sanırım bu Kuzey Ren-Vestfalya Eyaletinde var; ama henüz net bir yapıya ve pozisyona kavuşmuş değil. Destek programları karmaşası ise bize nefes alma fırsatı bile vermiyor. Sürekli yeniden hizaya girmemizi, yeniden yapılanmamızı, yeniden düşünmemizi talep ediyor. Bu karmaşayı anlamak gerçekten zor. Bize maddi destek verenlerin birçoğu bizim hangi baskılar altında ürettiğimizin farkında değil. Kültür politikacıları keşke bunun üzerine düşünüp “haydi biraz yavaşlayalım, belki uzun vadeli bir destek sunsak iyi olur, belki beş yıllık bir destek sunsak ...” deseler. Belediye başkanlarına da seçildikten sonra beş yıl süre tanınıyor ve onlar bu süre zarfında çalışıp sonunda neler başardıklarını gösterebiliyorlar. Belki bu beş yıl içinde kendi ayakları üzerinde durabilir ve destek almadan devam edebilirler. Kültür alanındaki küçük ve orta büyüklükteki kolektifler için en azından beş yıllık maddi desteğin mümkün olabileceğine inanıyorum. Bu uyum alanı için de aynı şekilde geçerli. FSL: Bence talep edilen sürekli yenilenme retoriği, kültür ve sanat alanı için o kadar doğru değil ya da her zaman işlevli değil. Tabi ki kültür ve sanat alanında da yeni düşünceler ortaya çıkıyor; ama örneğin ekonomi alanında olduğundan daha farklı. Ve bu kendini devamlı baskı altında tutma hali birçok kişi tarafından içselleştirilmiş, çünkü herkes kendini ayakta tutmak istiyor. İşte sorun burada. Avantajları ve dezavantajlarıyla birlikte komşu bölgelerde desteğin başka türlü nasıl işleyeceğine dair örnekler var. Oralarda genelde çok kısa vadeli destekler verilmiyor çünkü alınan küçücük bir meblağ için bile orantısız bir şekilde bütün bürokrasi ve idareyle uğraşmak gerekiyor. Sonuçta sadece çok kısa süreli bir proje 297 yapmış olsan da kamu bütçesinden yardım almış oluyorsun ve bu paranın nereye harcandığı titizlikle kontrol edilmeli. Proje süresi kısa olduğunda bunun karşısındaki denetleme ve bürokrasi orantısız oluyor. Tekrar senin ilk başta dikkat çektiğin ve giriş yaptığın Hip Hop konusuna dönmek istiyorum. Benim çok ilginç bulduğum konu, buradaki estetiğin ve kültürün bir yandan oldukça ticarileştirilmiş ve küreselleştirilmiş, öbür yandan da çok politik olması. Özgürleşme ve yetkilendirme Hip Hop’ta sıkça konu olarak ele alınıyor. Özellikle de Hip Hop’un oluşma döneminde bir çeşit karşı kamuoyu yaratma, olayları ve hikayeleri kendi açından anlatman söz konusuydu ve bu birbirinden çok farklı bağlamlarda gelişiyordu. ABD’de örneğin gelişen Hip Hop bütün bölgesel bağlamlarda yaşıyor ve önemli bir işlevi var: Hip Hop ile kendi hikayeni anlatabiliyorsun - senin de biraz önce çok güçlü şekilde yaptığın gibi. ZF: Ne yazık ki Avrupa’da ama öncelikle de Almanya’da eleştirmemiz gereken bir nokta var. Biz ne yazık ki Hip Hop için tıpkı yüksek kültür diye adlandırılan kültürde olduğu gibi genel bir yapı oluşturmayı öğrenemedik. Ben bunu Hip Hop çevresinden sanatçıların buluştuğu belli platformlarda sürekli eleştiriyorum. Bunun arkasında yatan durum şu: Bizim kendimize özgü ne bir organizasyon yapılanmamız var, ne de bize yönelik bir destek programı var. Bu yapıyı Pottporus olarak birlikte inşa etmeye çalışıyoruz; ama Hip Hop kültürünün ticarileşmesine karşı koymak çok zor, çünkü onlar çok güçlüler. Bu yüzden Underground dediğimiz yer altı çevresi var. Orada birçok sanatçı küçük ağlarda, gruplarda politik içerikli ve politik mesajlı Hip Hop yapıyor. Ama bunlar yeterince öne çıkmıyorlar, özellikle de sadece güçlükle bağlantı kurabildikleri kültür sistemimizde geride kalıyorlar. Bu yüzden soruyoruz: “Peki, bu neden böyle?” Cevabı çok açık: Çünkü Hip Hop’un kuruluşunda var olan politik tartışmalara gerçekten kapı açan özel bir kurum ya da mekan yok. Hip Hop kültürü aslında kolay ve anlaşılır biçimde şunu söylemekle ilgilendi: Ayrımcılığa, ırkçılığa, kendi aranızda ve azınlıklara karşı şiddete, uyuşturucuya, baskıya ve aşırı sağcılığa hayır! Bu çevre Almanya’da da oldukça güçlü ama şöyle söyleyeyim, kamusal destek alan kültür formatlarına çok zor girebiliyor. Biz bu yüzden yıllardır burada Hip Hop kültürü için kendine özgü bir yer yaratılması çağrısında Milena Yolova, Lajos Gabor bulunuyoruz. Böyle bir yer gerçekten Hip Hop çevresini kendi inisiyatifiyle harekete geçirebilir. Ancak kültür politikasının yardım ve desteği olmadan bu adımı atmayı başaramayız. Bununla birlikte böyle bir yer Ruhr bölgesi için büyük bir kültürel zenginleşme olur. FSL: 2016 yılından beri Interkultur Ruhr’da çalışıyoruz ve bu kitabı oluşturduğumuz zaman, o yılların politik ve toplumsal politik boyutlarının bilincinde ve etkisindeydik. Ne yazık ki Hanau katliamı ve Halle saldırısı gibi çok korkunç olaylar yaşadık ve artık Federal Parlamento’da aşırı sağcı bir parti var. Ama diğer taraftan dayanışmayı da çok fazla hissettik, örneğin Black Lives Matter hareketi bağlamında. Black Lives Matter ve başka hareketler gerçekten ırkçılık ve sömürgecilik karşıtı mücadele için bizim burada da kamusal bir bilinç oluşturdular ve duyarlılık yarattılar. Son olarak şunu sormak istiyorum: 2016 yılından bu yana senin için ve çalışmaların için neler değişti? ZF: Sağcı fikirlerle ilgili söylediğin ne varsa aşırı hale geldi diyebilirim. Her yerde, Kuzey Ren-Vestfalya Eyaleti’nde de, bu fikirlerin kamuoyu önünde artık ne kadar rahat söylenebilir hale geldiğini gözlemliyoruz. Ayrıca o kadar normalleştiler ki, sen onları artık algılamıyorsun ve bu gerçekten üzücü. Şöyle: Belirli sözleri duyuyorsun ama artık tepki göstermiyorsun. Adamlar sana medya üzerinden, politika üzerinden, sosyal medya platformları ve internet üzerinden ezberletmiş ve o sözler artık sıradan olmuş; ama bana göre işte bu gelişme, çok tehlikeli. Burada bir de sessiz bir tehlike var, çünkü tüm bu insanlar aynı zamanda seçmenler ve bunların oylarıyla durumlar değiştiğinde birçok kişi hayretle neler olduğunu anlayacak. Bu gelişmelerin ve sorunların Avrupa çapında arttığını gözlemliyoruz. İşte bu yüzden de sizin çalışmanızı çok önemli buluyorum. Çünkü siz çalışmalarınızla azınlıkların kültürlerini görünür kılmaya çalışıyorsunuz. Ne yazık ki bu kitle için düşünülmedi, genel kitleye hitap eden fabrikasyon bir ürün değil ama belki doğru olan da iyi olan da budur. Sizler belli gruplara ve belli alanlara ulaşmaya yoğunlaştınız. Ve belki onlar yavaşça, adım adım bu çevrelerden çıkar ve seslerini topluma duyurmayı başarırlar. WAZ gazetesi ile birlikte bu bağlamda gerçekleştirilen aksiyon çok güzeldi. Çalıştığım Alman Devlet Demiryolları’nda memur olan birçok Alman meslektaşım WAZ gazetesine abone ve haberi okuduktan sonra bana söyledik- 298 leri şu: “Hey Zekai, Pottporus’un yaptıkları çok ilginç! Böyle olduğunu düşünmüyorduk. Bana daha çok bilgi verir misin, oğlum da bununla ilgileniyor.” Biliyor musun, birdenbire benimle konuşacakları bir konu açıldı. Bunun için de o aksiyonu önemli buluyorum. Şunu söyleyebilirim: Kesinlikle devam edin ve peşini bırakmayın, başarının anahtarının mutlaka burada saklı olduğuna inanıyorum. FSL: Sevgili Zekai, bu söyleşi için çok teşekkür ediyorum ve geleceğin için her şeyin iyi olmasını diliyorum. ‫‪299‬‬ ‫أيضا المجموعة لم يواصل أحد العمل من بعد ذلك‪ .‬لم نستطع‬ ‫االهتمام بفكرة تمكين الناس لكي يستمر بالعمل في المجموعة‬ ‫عندما سوف نخرج منها‪ .‬فالعمل كان مكثفا ً ولم يكن لدينا متسع‬ ‫من الوقت لبناء مجموعة بشكل صحيح‪ .‬كنا نقوم فقط بين الحين‬ ‫واآلخر بتنظيم االجتماعات مع أعضاء المجموعة‪ ،‬ألن العمل‬ ‫بالمجمل كان موجها ً للخارج أكثر منه لداخل المجموعة‪.‬‬ ‫يوهنا‪-‬يسيرى كلوز‪ :‬كان مطلبكم األساسي هو الخروج من المبيت‬ ‫الجماعي واالنتقال إلى السكن المستقل‪.‬‬ ‫طارق األوس‪ :‬كانت الفكرة حينها ليس فقط إخراج الناس من‬ ‫الصاالت الرياضية‪ ،‬بقدر ما كانت إقامة مخيم احتجاج مباشرةً‬ ‫أمام مجلس مدينة بوخوم‪ ،‬على اعتبار أن اغلب الناس لديهم‬ ‫يوميا ً التزامات ما يجب أن تقضيها‪ .‬كان عددنا حين أقمنا في‬ ‫الصالة الرياضية ‪ 25‬شخص‪ ،‬ولكن األشخاص الذين شاركوا‬ ‫في االحتجاج كانوا ممن لديهم مواعيد في المصالح الحكومية‬ ‫وشاهدوا كيف أنّنا ندفع بمطالب تهم الجميع‪ ،‬وليس فقط ألجل‬ ‫منازل لخمسة وعشرين شخص‪ .‬حقيقة شعرنا بالخذالن‪ .‬فمن‬ ‫جميع المصالح الحكومية المتاحة لم يستطيع أحد من إدارة المدينة‬ ‫عن المسؤول مباشرة عن الحالة المتعلقة بمطالبنا‪ .‬حدث حينها‬ ‫الكثير من األخطاء‪ ،‬وفي وقت ما ت ّشكل لدينا شعور بأن مدينة‬ ‫بوخوم ال تملك بيانات تتعلق بساكنيها وعددهم‪ .‬حينها قررنا‬ ‫الشروع بعملية التوثيق بأنفسنا‪.‬‬ ‫يوهنا‪-‬يسيرى كلوز‪ :‬كنت قد قلت بأنّ جميع المطالب تم تحقيقها‪،‬‬ ‫ولكن العمل السياسي يجب أال يتوقف‪ .‬ما الذي عملتم عليه فيما‬ ‫بعد؟‬ ‫طارق األوس‪ :‬فعالً تم تحقيق المطالب األساسية فيما يتعلق‬ ‫بالسكن وتقديم طلب اللجوء‪ .‬ولكن بعدها باتت المسألة لها صلة‬ ‫بالمشاركة السياسية ورفض فكرة االندماج في شكلها السابق‪.‬‬ ‫قلنا بأنّ القانون تم إعداده في مكاتب من قبل اشخاص ليس لديهم‬ ‫اتصال مع الذين سوف ينفذ عليهم القانون وال يعرفون احتياجاتهم‬ ‫بالضبط‪ .‬حينها رفضنا ذلك كلياً‪ .‬حيث يتعلق األمر بالعيش‬ ‫المشترك وشمل الجميع‪ ،‬وليس إدماج مجموعة ما ضمن أخرى‪.‬‬ ‫نحن اعتبرنا أنفسنا جزءاً من الحل وليس أصحاب المشكلة فقط‪.‬‬ ‫قلنا إلدارة المدينة بأنّه إذا كانت الحالة فوق طاقتها‪ ،‬فنحن نستطيع‬ ‫بدورنا المساهمة بسبل نرى فيها حالً‪.‬‬ ‫يوهنا‪-‬يسيرى كلوز‪ :‬كان لدي انطباع أنّ دائرة واسعة من‬ ‫الداعمين والداعمات تقف بجانبكم‪.‬‬ ‫طارق األوس‪ :‬وهو ما كان له أهمية بالغة حتى يتسنى لنا‬ ‫الحصول على المعلومات عما هو ممكن وما هو غير ممكن‪.‬‬ ‫قُدمت المشورة لنا من قبل منظمات أيضا ً وليس فقط من قبل‬ ‫أشخاص‪ .‬مثال عن الحقوق األساسية التي نملكها هنا وما يمكن أن‬ ‫نطالب به وكذلك دعمونا بالحاجات المتعلقة بالبنية التحتية للمخيم‪،‬‬ ‫حيث كان ينقصنا الكثير‪ ،‬وكنا في حاجة الى خيام أكثر‪ ،‬سرعان‬ ‫ما قام الناس بتأمينها لنا‪ .‬وهم كانوا أيضا حريصون على مدنا‬ ‫بالمعلومات مع ترك اتخاذ القرار لنا‪ .‬ك ٌل منا فهم دوره بشكل جيد‪.‬‬ ‫هذه التظاهرة كانت اإلطار األول لي هكذا ضمن شكل ديمقراطي‬ ‫أساسي يعتمد على التنظيم الذاتي‪.‬‬ ‫يوهنا‪-‬يسيرى كلوز‪ :‬انتشرت في المدينة حينها من خاللكم طاقة‬ ‫ايجابية رائعة‪ .‬فمع هذا الغضب واالحتجاج والمطالبة بمجتمع‬ ‫عادل تخلل ذلك أيضا ً الكثير من ال ّخفة والمتعة‪ .‬ما هي أهمية ذلك‬ ‫ودوره؟‬ ‫طارق األوس‪ :‬حدثت الكثير من األشياء! كان أول لقاء بمناسبة‬ ‫اللجوء‪ ،‬حيث اجتمع مائة ناشطة وناشط في غرفة واحدة‪ .‬كان من‬ ‫المثير لالهتمام كيف أن الناس من نفس المدينة ويعملون بنفس‬ ‫‪Tareq Alaows‬‬ ‫‪p.240‬‬ ‫‪We saw ourselves as Part of the solution‬‬ ‫في المحادثة‪Tareq Alaows (Refugee Strike Bochum) :‬‬ ‫ترجمة‪Yousef Hasan :‬‬ ‫في محادثة مع انتركولتور رور‬ ‫رأينا أنفسنا جزءاً من الحل‬ ‫طارق األوس من "ريفيوجي سترايك" بوخوم عن التنظيم الذاتي‬ ‫والوعي المشترك والثقافة‬ ‫دويسبورغ – برلين‪ 11 ،‬يناير ‪2021‬‬ ‫درس طارق األوس الحقوق في سوريا‪ ،‬وهو يعمل منذ خمسة‬ ‫سنوات في مجال االستشارة القانونية لالجئين‪ .‬ساهم في عام‬ ‫‪ 2015‬بتأسّيس "ريفوجي سترايك" بوخوم‪ ،‬كما قادته نشاطاته‬ ‫المتعددة الملتزمة سياسيا ً ليكون متحدّثا ً ومنسّقا ً لمبادرة "سي‬ ‫بروكه"‪ .‬كان له أيضا ً دور استشاري في المساعدة الطبية لالجئين‬ ‫في بوخوم‪ .‬يعمل اآلن كمدير لقسم الفنون والتعليم في إدارة الوقاية‬ ‫واألزمات ‪ S27‬في برلين‪ ،‬وبدأ يأخذ طريقه كسياسي محترف‬ ‫في المانيا‪.‬‬ ‫كانت "ريفيوجي سترايك" بوخوم عبارة عن مجموعة ذاتية‬ ‫التنظيم عرفت حضوراً ناشطا ً حتى عام ‪ ،2018‬في الكفاح من‬ ‫أجل الحقوق األساسّية وحق المشاركة السياسّية لالجئين في مدينة‬ ‫بوخوم‪ .‬سبق لمبارة "االنتركولتور" رور أن تواجدت معها سويةً‬ ‫في عدة مناسبات للتنسيق والتواصل على مستوى المنطقة‬ ‫يوهنا‪-‬يسيرى كلوز‪ :‬كان التعرف على "ريفيوجي سترايك" في‬ ‫بوخوم عام ‪ 2016‬بمثابة مفتاح العمل مع "االنتركولتور" رور‪.‬‬ ‫كيف تتذكر تلك األيام في منطقة الرور قبل خمسة سنوات؟‬ ‫طارق األوس‪ :‬كانت لحظة الوصول والشعور مبدأيا ً باآلمان‪،‬‬ ‫ولكن سرعان ما أصابنا الخذالن بسبب ظروف العيش التي‬ ‫عشناها‪ ،‬وخاصة حيث القوانين التي ال يتم تنفذيها وبالتالي تبقى‬ ‫فقط حبيسة على الورق‪ .‬اخترنا المقاومة ضد هذه الظروف‬ ‫ومن هنا كانت بداية تأسيس مبادرة "ريفيوجي سترايك"‪ .‬طبعا‬ ‫نتحدث هنا عن مجموعة غير متجانسة من الناس ال تجمعهم لغة‬ ‫أم واحدة‪ .‬وصل عدد الحضور في مخيم االحتجاج في البداية‬ ‫إلى ‪ 250‬شخص‪ ،‬ونتيجة لبعض المصاعب أخذت المجموعة‬ ‫تصغر شيئا فشيئا‪ ،‬ليبقى في النهاية خمسة أو ستة أشخاص فاعلين‬ ‫وعشرة أشخاص على مجموعة الواتس آب‪.‬‬ ‫يوهنا‪-‬يسيرى كلوز‪ :‬هل لديك تخمين معين عن السبب؟‬ ‫طارق األوس‪ :‬بدايةً بسبب تكلفة الجهد البيروقراطي واليومي في‬ ‫ألمانيا‪ ،‬باإلضافة لوجود العديد من الحواجز والعقبات اإلجبارية‬ ‫التي يجب تجاوزها‪ ،‬وكذلك لكون المطالب التي طرحناها قد‬ ‫تحققت فعالً‪ .‬لدى الناس أيضا ً مشاغلهم اليومية من طلب اللجوء‬ ‫ودورات االندماج الخ‪ ...‬من بقي حتى النهاية كان ممن لديهم‬ ‫أساسا ً اهتمام سياسي معين‪ .‬شكلت اللغة أيضا ً عائقا ً كبيراً‪ ،‬فبسببها‬ ‫كان الفتا ً تغيبي بشكل مستمر‪ ،‬على اعتبار أنني كنت أحضر‬ ‫االجتماعات المهمة فقط‪ ،‬وعندما يأتي أحدهم معي كان يتوجب‬ ‫علي الترجمة أو التحدث بلغتين وهكذا‪ .‬كان لهذا دوره بطريقة ما‬ ‫في انسحاب الناس‪.‬‬ ‫بعدها انضم أشخاص جدد إلى "ريفيوجي سترايك" أثناء مظاهرة‬ ‫مخيم االحتجاج الثاني الذي أقمناه أمام مجلس مدينة بوخوم‪ .‬هذه‬ ‫المرة ايضا ً استمر شخصين أو ثالثة إلى النهاية‪ .‬وعندما غادرنا‬ ‫‪300‬‬ ‫من دون العمل على جميع هذه األزمات سويةً وتقديم فكرة شاملة‬ ‫بديلة للمجتمع لن يحدث شيء‪ .‬ستبقى لكل مجموعة قضاياها التي‬ ‫تجدها أكثر أهمية‪.‬‬ ‫يوهنا‪-‬يسيرى كلوز‪ :‬عندما تقول يجب إيجاد فكرة شاملة لمجتمع‬ ‫بديل‪ ،‬ماذا تقصد بهذه الفكرة بالضبط؟‬ ‫طارق األوس‪ :‬أعطيك مثاالً واضحاً‪ :‬لم يسبق ألحد من‬ ‫الناس الذين يحتلون اآلن غابة "هامباخر فورست" ويرفعون‬ ‫شعارات"إنها أزمة مناخ‪ ،‬يجب على شركة "الريفي" أن تتوقف‬ ‫كلياً!" ــ أن احتّجوا بنفس الوقت ضد فقر األطفال الموجود في‬ ‫العديد من األماكن هناك‪ .‬إذأ ال يتم الربط بين األزمتين‪ .‬حسناً‪،‬‬ ‫أنا لدي مطالب تتعلق بأزمة المناخ‪ ،‬ولكن ماذا عن الناس الذين‬ ‫يعيشون تحت وطأة أزمة اجتماعية معينة؟ هذه ليست صراعات‬ ‫مختلفة‪ ،‬بل هو صراع واحد مصدره مجتمع واحد‪ .‬يوجد اآلن في‬ ‫ألمانيا العديد من المحاوالت لبناء مبادرات وشبكات ترفع شعار‬ ‫بأن اللجوء والهجرة ال ينفصالن عن أزمة المناخ‪ ،‬حتى و إن‬ ‫كان القانون ال يتضمن ذلك‪ .‬حسب منظمة "غرين بيس" سيكون‬ ‫هناك ‪ 200‬مليون إنسان في حالة لجوء عام ‪ .2040‬ال أستطيع‬ ‫إذا القيام بسياسة أو نشاط ألجل أزمة المناخ أو العدالة المناخية‬ ‫دون طرح سؤال اللجوء والهجرة أو مشاكل العدالة االجتماعية‪.‬‬ ‫حتى وإن كانت هذه األسئلة واألزمات كبيرة وشاملة‪ .‬لحسن الحظ‬ ‫يوجد نشطاء يعملون على ذلك ويجب التعاون والتنسيق معهم‪.‬‬ ‫يوهنا‪-‬يسيرى كلوز‪ :‬إذاً ال يجب الربط فقط على مستوى‬ ‫المواضيع والحاالت وإنما أيضا ً على مستوى المجالس المحلية‬ ‫واألقاليم واالتحاد والحديث عن وعي مشترك جامع وشامل! هذا‬ ‫يعني أنّ راحتي الشخصية ال تنفصل أبداً عن راحة الجماعة‪.‬‬ ‫حقيقة ال يكفي أن تكون لوحدك في البرلمان مع كل هذه األفكار‬ ‫الذكية والمهمة‪.‬‬ ‫طارق األوس‪ :‬نعم هذا ما اقصد‬ ‫‪ 1‬ساهم بيرند فوسينغ بالعديد من النشاطات الثقافية كما بادر‬ ‫ببعضها‪ ،‬منها مثالً مساهمته الفنية في مظاهرة سي بروكه عام‬ ‫‪ ،2018‬والتي كانت انتركولتور رور أحد مموليها‪.‬‬ ‫‪ 2‬ميري بيسنكوفيتش هي مؤسسة اتحاد وورلد بيت كلوب‬ ‫للرقص والمساعدة‪ ،‬والذي إلى جانب تنظيمه للعديد من النشاطات‬ ‫متنوعة الحجم كان قد أطلق ايضا ً مهرجان دقات ضد العنصرية‪.‬‬ ‫‪ 3‬سي بروكه هي حركة دولية يجري بها العديد من االتحادات‬ ‫والفاعلين والفاعالت في المجتمع المدني‪ .‬تقف ضد سياسات‬ ‫الحدود األوروبية الراهنة‪ ،‬وتدعو إلى حرية الحركة الدولية‬ ‫لجميع الناس‪.‬‬ ‫‪ 4‬في أبريل من عام ‪ 2021‬سحب طارق األوس ترشيحه بعد‬ ‫عدة أسابيع فقط من إعالنه عنه‪ ،‬وذلك بسبب تهديدات عنصّرية‬ ‫ضده وضد عائلته‪.‬‬ ‫‪Tareq Alaows‬‬ ‫المجال ولم يسبق لهم أن تحدثوا مع بعضهم‪ .‬من ثم جاء المهتمون‬ ‫بالثقافة مثل بيرند فوسينغ ‪ُ ،1‬محضراً معه الطبول وبدأنا بالدق‬ ‫عليها‪ .‬بالنسبة لي لم يكن مجرد نشاط سياسي بقدر ما هو أيضا ً‬ ‫لقاء مجتمعي متعدد في هذه المدينة‪.‬‬ ‫يوهنا‪-‬يسيرى كلوز‪ :‬كان هناك أيضا ً على سبيل المثال سلسلة من‬ ‫الحفالت في نادي "ترومبيته" مع ميري بيسينكوفيتش ‪ ،2‬وفي‬ ‫نادي "وورلد بيت" كما أصبحت عضواً في "سي بروكه ‪ "3‬ولم‬ ‫تجعل النقاش العام محدوداً بالقضايا المحلية بل تجاوزتها إلى تلك‬ ‫العالمية أيضاً‪.‬‬ ‫طارق األوس‪ :‬ينحصر عملي اآلن في "سي بروكه" بسياسات‬ ‫اللجوء والهجرة في ألمانيا‪ ،‬وجزء وافر منه أيضا ً يذهب إلى‬ ‫عمل جماعات الضغط على مستوى والية برلين‪ .‬وقد تمكنت‬ ‫من خالل خلفيتي الحقوقية ومعرفتي بالقوانين منذ خمسة سنوات‬ ‫من تطوير خبرة يُرجع إليها‪ .‬الحظت أيضا ً أثناء المحادثات التي‬ ‫تسعى إلى الضغط السياسي مع السياسيين والسياسيات االختالف‬ ‫الشديد بين ما يجرؤون على قوله معي عنه عندما يتحدثون مع‬ ‫نشطاء وناشطات بيض‪ .‬بإمكاني التوصل معهم لشيء مختلف‪.‬‬ ‫لسوء الحظ سوف أخرج تماما ً من العمل في "سي بروكه" حتى‬ ‫يبقى عملي كناشط محافظا ً على صفته هذه‪ .‬سأرشح نفسي إلى‬ ‫البرلمان االتحادي ‪ 4‬عن والية شمال الراين ويستفاليا كون‬ ‫نشاطي السياسي بدأ هناك‪.‬‬ ‫يوهنا‪-‬يسيرى كلوز‪ :‬كيف تصف الوضع الراهن في مدينة‬ ‫بوخوم؟‬ ‫طارق األوس‪ :‬عدد من المدن في والية شمال الراين أعلنت عن‬ ‫نفسها موانئ ومحطات آمنة لالجئين‪ .‬أرى على مستوى المجالس‬ ‫المحلية وجود تقدم ملموس على كافة المستويات بالنسبة لمن‬ ‫قدم مثلي عام ‪ .2015‬كث ٌر يعملون اآلن ولهم منازلهم‪ .‬ما تبقى‬ ‫هو موضوع القوانين االتحادية وقوانين الواليات‪ .‬ما زالت هذه‬ ‫تشكل تحديا ً كبيرا بصرف النظر عن القضايا راسخة الجذور في‬ ‫المجتمع كالعنصّرية وكيفية التعامل معها‪ .‬أو أيضا ً على سبيل‬ ‫المثال موضوع الترحيل وخالفه‪ .‬حتى عندما ال تتفق المجالس‬ ‫المحلية مع هذه السياسية‪ ،‬فما هي المساحة التي تستطيع التحرك‬ ‫بها؟ يتوجب عليهم ترحيل عدد محدد من الناس سنويا ً ولذلك يجب‬ ‫عليهم الترحيل‪.‬‬ ‫يوهنا‪-‬يسيرى كلوز‪ :‬يومها تم الدفع باتجاه التعبئة في مدن أخرى‬ ‫أيضاً‪ ،‬مثل محاولة نقل شرارة النشاط إلى مدينة إيسن وديسبورغ‪.‬‬ ‫طارق األوس‪ :‬تحريك النشاط بحد ذاته الى مدن أخرى وخلق‬ ‫نشاطات معينة هناك لم يكن صعبا‪ ،‬ولكن الصعوبة كانت في‬ ‫تأسيس مجموعات ناشطة قادرة على التنظيم في هذه المدن‪.‬‬ ‫كان األمر يحتاج ببساطة إلى العثور على االشخاص المناسبين‬ ‫المهتمين سياسيا ً والعمل معهم‪ ،‬بحيث يستطيعون بعدها مواصلة‬ ‫التعبئة بأنفسهم‪ .‬كان الجواب األول منهم هو أننا بعد خمس‬ ‫سنوات من النشاط السياسي في سوريا نحتاج في بداية األمر إلى‬ ‫الوقت حتى نتأقلم هنا‪ .‬كان هناك اصالً عدة أشخاص‪ ،‬منهم في‬ ‫ديسبورغ‪ ،‬ممن كانوا ناشطين سياسيا ً منذ البداية وقاموا بالكثير‬ ‫من األشياء‪ ،‬لكن في وقت الحق حدث شيء ما فكك المجموعة‬ ‫كلياً‪ .‬كانت مشكلة شبيهة بما حدث لنا في سابقأ في مدينة بوخوم‪.‬‬ ‫يوهنا‪-‬يسيرى كلوز‪ :‬ما هي باعتقادك الخطوات القادمة حتى تنتقل‬ ‫فكرة التنوع من الشارع إلى القوانين والمجتمع ووعي الناس؟‬ ‫طارق األوس‪ :‬يوجد العديد من األزمات في المجتمع‪ .‬واحدة منها‬ ‫هي اللجوء وسياسات الهجرة‪ ،‬وأخرى هي األزمة اإلنسانية على‬ ‫الحدود الخارجية‪ ،‬وهناك أيضا ً أزمة المناخ واألزمة االجتماعية‪.‬‬ ‫‪301‬‬ ‫عن السودان‪ ،‬والبرازيل‪ ،‬وسوريا‪ ،‬وأفغانستان‪ .‬قمنا أيضا ً بإنتاج‬ ‫فيلم‪ ،‬ونظمنا بطوالت فيشة‪ ،‬وقضينا الكثير من الوقت الممتع‪،‬‬ ‫واحتفلنا بعيد الميالد‪ .‬كانت األجواء رائعة‪ .‬أحدث األمر تغييراً‬ ‫كبيراً‪ ،‬مثالً تضاعف عدد أصدقائي ومعارفي‪.‬‬ ‫يوهنا‪-‬يسيرى كلوز‪ :‬وإلى من استطعتم الوصول؟‬ ‫كريستيان فاجيمان‪ :‬أعتقد إلى خليط من الناس‪ .‬إلى دوائر أصدقاء‬ ‫المساهمين‪ .‬وعلى اعتبار أنّ مدينة ديسبورغ ال تشهد الكثير من‬ ‫النشاطات‪ ،‬تجد الكثير من المارين يلقون نظرة إلى الداخل عبر‬ ‫الواجهة أثناء عبورهم‪ .‬والكثير منهم يتساءلون أثناء نظرهم من‬ ‫الواجهة‪" :‬مم‪ ،‬ماذا هنا؟ لمن هذا المكان؟ كيف ليس ألحد؟ كيف‪،‬‬ ‫للجميع؟ كيف‪ ،‬من هو المدير هنا؟"‪" ،‬نعم‪ ،‬ال أحد‪" ،".‬حسناً"‪ .‬ثم‬ ‫تجدهم يدخلون ويشربون الشاي أو البيرة‪ .‬طبعا ً كنا نقوم بتعليق‬ ‫الفتات عن النشاطات التي نقوم بها‪ ،‬وبالطبع كنا نريده مكانا ً يقوم‬ ‫فيه الناس أنفسهم بتنظيم ما يرغبون‪ ،‬سوا ًء الالجئين أو غيرهم‬ ‫ممن ال يحوزون في المجتمع على الموارد أو األمكنة الكافية‬ ‫لمتابعة شؤونهم وحاجاتهم‪.‬‬ ‫رحيم درويشة‪ :‬إن إليصال األمر لالجئين تحديا ً كبيراً‪ .‬فحينما‬ ‫كنت أصف لهم المكان أثناء دعوتهم بأنّه "فضاء ح ّر للجميع‪ ،‬ال‬ ‫يوجد فيه مدير معين وكلنا متساوون‪ ،‬تستطيعون ببساطة القدوم"‪.‬‬ ‫كان ينتابني الشعور بعدم استيعاب الكثيرين لما أقول‪ .‬كان صعبا ً‬ ‫أن أجد مفهوما ً لألمر‪ .‬أستطيع أن أقول اليوم بعد عامين وبعد‬ ‫التحدث كثيراً عن المشروع أنّ األمر أصبح أكثر يُسراً‪ ،‬ولكن ال‬ ‫يزال بحاجة إلى المزيد من العمل‪.‬‬ ‫يوهنا‪-‬يسيرى كلوز‪ :‬من المشوق كيف أن مشهداً يساريا ً شاباً‪،‬‬ ‫يتألف من رواد حفالت وناس ذاتيي التنظيم‪ ،‬يختلط معه الجيران‬ ‫والجارات‪ .‬لم يكن األمر دائما ً بسيطا ً هكذا‪ .‬ما زالت أتذكر العديد‬ ‫ُ‬ ‫لحظات الخالف‪ .‬فكيف تسيراألمور فعليا ً عندما تريد أن‬ ‫من‬ ‫تبقي المكان مفتوحا ً للجميع في الوقت الذي تتطلع فيه للتنوع‬ ‫واالختالف؟ فالحب والسالم واالنسجام ليست أشياء معطاة سلفاً‪،‬‬ ‫بقدر ما تتطلب الكثير من العمل‪ .‬فما هو نظام المكان‪ ،‬وما هي‬ ‫قواعده‪ ،‬وما هي األخالق التي نتفق عليها؟ أين نضع حداً‪ ،‬ولكن‬ ‫أيضا ً متى يجب أن نكون منفتحين عندما يتم تجاوز حدودنا‬ ‫الخاصّة؟ بالنسبة لي النقاش الدائر يمكن أن نضعه تحت شعار‬ ‫"التنظيم الذاتي سويةً"‪ .‬صحيح أنّ أول ما يخطر ببالنا عندما نقول‬ ‫التنظيم الذاتي هو اليسار النموذجي في ألمانيا‪ ،‬الذي ما زال طبعا ً‬ ‫في معظمه أبيضاً‪ ،‬غير أنّه يجري أيضا ً ربط هذا التقليد مع ما‬ ‫يسمى "التنظيم الذاتي المهاجر"‪ .‬هناك الكثير من المحالت في‬ ‫المدينة تتيح فرصة اللقاء االجتماعي ويوجد فيها أيضا ً عروض‬ ‫للتعليم والثقافة والعمل السياسي من مختلف األمكنة التي تعرضت‬ ‫للشتات‪ .‬ضمن أي تقليد تصنفون عملكم في الماضي وربما أيضا ً‬ ‫في المستقبل؟‬ ‫كريستيان فاجيمان‪ :‬في نهاية المطاف كان عملنا مجرد محاولة‪.‬‬ ‫ربما كان الخطاب اليساري الذي تعلمناه واختبرنا عيشهُ جميعا ً ما‬ ‫يزال حتى اآلن قاصراً إذا ما أردنا أن نعطي مساحةً لالختالفات‬ ‫وننشئ تفاهم وعمل تربوي سياسي‪ .‬كان األمر أقرب للمغامرة‬ ‫مع هذا الفضاء المفتوح‪ ،‬فكيف يمكن أن نصل إلى الناس الذين لم‬ ‫يروا يوما ً مركزاً مستقالً؟ وعندما ينشأ خالف ما‪ ،‬كيف نتعامل‬ ‫معه؟ ما هي استراتيجيتنا كيسار يريد تنظيم أماكن وبذات الوقت‬ ‫لديه هدف التأثير على مجمل المجتمع؟‬ ‫رحيم درويشة‪ :‬كقادم جديد إلى ديسبورغ كان الشعور باالنتماء‬ ‫إلى مجموعة ما بغاية األهمية‪ .‬كانت هذه هي الخطوة األولى ومن‬ ‫ثمة كان السؤال‪ :‬ماذا أريد أن أحقق هنا في ديسبورغ؟ لقد وجدت‬ ‫نفسي هناك وأعتقد أنّنا استطعنا فعالً جمع الناس‪ .‬جميعنا ساهم في‬ ‫‪Christian Wagemann, Rahim Darwisha‬‬ ‫‪p.84‬‬ ‫‪The goal was clear‬‬ ‫في المحادثة‪Christian Wagemann, Rahim Darwisha (47 e.V) :‬‬ ‫ترجمة‪Yousef Hasan :‬‬ ‫في محادثة مع انتركولتور رور‬ ‫كان الهدف واضحا ً‬ ‫عن مساحة االختالف والممارسات العمليّة لمواجهة العنصرّية‬ ‫ضمن الثقافة االجتماعية ذاتّية التنظيم مع كل من كريستيان‬ ‫فاجيمان ورحيم درويشة من جمعية الـ ‪47‬‬ ‫دويسبورغ‪ 16 ،‬ديسمبر ‪2020‬‬ ‫ِد َم كريستيان فاجيمان إلى ديسبورغ بغرض الدراسة والتزم على‬ ‫مدار سنوات بالكفاح السياسي ال ُمطالب بأماكن ُمتاحة للجميع‪ .‬كان‬ ‫من ضمن منظمي مبادرة " دعم الالجئين" ‪Refugee Support‬‬ ‫في جامعة ديسبورغ‪-‬إيسن‪ ،‬وهو من مؤسّسي جمعية الـ ‪47‬‬ ‫ويعمل أيضا ً ضمن مبادرة شتابل تور‪.‬‬ ‫رحيم درويشة هو أحد مؤسّسي جمعية الـ ‪ 47‬وكان فاعالً في‬ ‫التمثيل السياسي في مبادرة دعم الالجئين في ديسبورغ‪ .‬عمل‬ ‫لعدة سنوات في مركز شبابي بمدينة دويسبورغ وهو حاليا ً أحد‬ ‫العاملين في مبادرة شتابل تور‪.‬‬ ‫تعتبر جمعية الـ ‪ 47‬نفسها بمثابة جسر بين الثقافات واألجيال‬ ‫والطبقات االجتماعّية‪ ،‬حيث يرى مساهموا الجمعية بأنّ األمر‬ ‫ال يتعلق باالندماج من طرف واحد بقدر ما هو تفاعل واندماج‬ ‫بين الجميع ومن قبل الجميع‪ .‬بدأت جمعية الـ ‪ 47‬كمشروع َم َحل‬ ‫في مركز مدينة ديسبورغ و االستفادة منه اليوم بوصفه مبادرة‬ ‫مساهمين لمركز اجتماعي ثقافي ُمقبِل في مدينة ديسبورغ‪.‬‬ ‫يوهنا‪-‬يسيرى كلوز‪ :‬من يقف خلف مشروع جمعية الـ ‪47‬؟‬ ‫كريستيان فاجيمان‪ :‬ت ّج ُمع دي جي يُق ِدم خليط من األصوات‬ ‫و”‪”Be Neighbours‬وهي مجموعة شابّة تنظم أحداث ثقافيّة‬ ‫متعلقة بسياسات المدينة‪ .‬وهناك أيضا ً مشروع „‪Refugee‬‬ ‫‪ ”Support‬في الجامعة‪ ،‬والذي كنا قد بدأنا فيه عام ‪ 2015‬بإلقاء‬ ‫الضوء على المشاكل التي يواجهها الالجئون‪ .‬من ذلك المشروع‬ ‫نشأت العديد من التقاطعات والعالقات والصداقات الشخصيّة‪.‬‬ ‫بدأت جمعية الـ ‪ 47‬بلقاء تراوح بين الثالثون واألربعون شخصا‬ ‫في صالون حالقة فارغ في شارع مونتس‪ ،‬وبدأنا التفكير في كيفية‬ ‫شَغل وتفعيل المكان‪.‬‬ ‫يوهنا‪-‬يسيرى كلوز‪ :‬ماذا عنك رحيم‪ ،‬كيف انضممت إلى الجمعية ؟‬ ‫رحيم درويشة‪ :‬تعرفت إلى كريستيان واآلخرين عام ‪ 2016‬ضمن‬ ‫إطار „‪ ”Refugee Support‬وبعد عام ونصف قررنا التوجه‬ ‫خارج الجامعة‪ ،‬حتى يتاح أيضا ً لغير الطالب من المساهمة‬ ‫بالمشروع‪ .‬أردت التعرف إلى المدينة وثقافتها وسكانها‪ .‬أميل‬ ‫دائما ً إلى النشاطات االجتماعية‪ ،‬قمت بذلك في تركيا وسوريا‬ ‫وأينما حللت‪ .‬وهنا أيضاً‪ .‬لم ال!‬ ‫يوهنا‪-‬يسيرى كلوز‪ :‬ماذا كان يوجد في شارع مونتس؟‬ ‫رحيم درويشة‪ :‬الكثير من األشياء‪ .‬فالمكان كان عبارةً عن فضا ٍء‬ ‫مفتوح‪ :‬ادخل ببساطة وتعرف على اآلخرين‪ .‬أقمنا العديد من‬ ‫الحفالت‪ ،‬ولقاءات االرتجال الموسيقي‪ ،‬والمحاضرات‪ ،‬ويوم‬ ‫البار المفتوح‪ ،‬وأمسيات دون نشاط محدد‪ ،‬إضافةً إلى جلسات‬ ‫القهوة لألهل‪ .‬أقمنا أيضا ً أُمسيات سياسية متعلقة بالشأن الدولي‬ ‫‪302‬‬ ‫على سبيل المثال لدينا الكثير من األفكار الهادفة والمهمة‪.‬‬ ‫يوهنا‪-‬يسيرى كلوز‪ :‬حكاية المبادرة والمكان واالتحاد هي على‬ ‫درجة من االرتباط الوثيق باألحداث السياسية القريبة من عام‬ ‫‪ ،2015‬وباالهتمام المتزايد بالهجرة باحوال اللجوء‪ .‬عندما‬ ‫تفكرون باألمر مرة أخرى‪ :‬مالذي تغير من حينها وما الذي بقي‬ ‫على حاله في حياتكم الشخصّية‪ ،‬ولكن أيضا ً فيما يخصّ أدائكم‬ ‫كناشطين وصانعي حوار تبادل ثقافي؟‬ ‫كريستيان فاجيمان‪ :‬كان عام ‪ 2015/2016‬هي اللحظة التي‬ ‫رأى فيها ُمجمل اليسار في المجتمع ضرورة فعل شيء لنكون‬ ‫متضامنين ونقف في وجه الظلم السياسي‪ .‬أعتقد أنّنا قد تأخرنا‬ ‫فعليا ً في مشروع المبادرة‪ .‬في اللحظة التي اراد فيها الكثير من‬ ‫الناس القيام بشيء ما‪ ،‬وجب علينا مباشرةً تنظيم تجربة يومية‬ ‫تضامنية تتجاوز مجرد التصفيق في محطة القطار‪ .‬لم نستطع‬ ‫فعل ذلك بسبب النقص في الموارد والنقص في الدعم من قبل‬ ‫السياسيين‪ .‬بعدها أصابنا لسبب ما اليأس وفقدان األمل‪ ،‬ألنّ‬ ‫الظروف االجتماعية هنا ليست ديمقراطية وال عادلة بتاتاً‪ .‬ماذا‬ ‫بوسعنا أن نقول‪ :‬يوجد هنا مشروع رائع‪ ،‬قوموا بزيارتنا؟ عدا‬ ‫ذلك يحدث اآلن‪ ،‬بعد أربع أو خمس سنوات‪ ،‬أنّ جرذانا ً تفترس‬ ‫األطفال في مخيم "موريا" لالجئين وال أحد يقوم بشيء‪ .‬عجز‬ ‫هائل وكبير‪ .‬أالحظ هذا األمر في نفسي أيضاً‪ .‬يوجد الكثير من‬ ‫النقاط التي يمكن من خاللها تحقيق مقاومة بطريقة ما‪ ،‬ولكن‬ ‫ال أعرف كيف‪ .‬أريد التأكيد على أنّ المشهد الثقافي البديل عليه‬ ‫أن يكون اليوم سياسيا ً وبنفس الوقت يترتب عليه القطيعة مع‬ ‫البديهيات السياسّية الحاضرة نوعا ما في أوساط الناشطين‪ ،‬حتى‬ ‫يمكن مخاطبتها ثقافياً‪ .‬أعتقد أنّنا نحاول األمرين معا ً اآلن في‬ ‫مبادرة شتابلتور‪.‬‬ ‫رحيم درويشة‪ :‬قدمت إلى ألمانيا عام ‪ .2016‬كانت هناك بالنسبة‬ ‫لالجئين الكثير من التحديات‪ :‬اللغة والبيروقراطية والكثير غيرها‪.‬‬ ‫كان هدفي حينها هو تعلم اللغة والتعرف على الثقافة األلمانية‬ ‫وخلق صالت تواصل مع الناس هنا‪ ،‬أي ببساطة التأقلم وإيجاد‬ ‫عمل‪ .‬اآلن نحن هنا‪ ،‬نعيش هنا‪ ،‬وغدونا جزءاً من هذا المجتمع‪.‬‬ ‫علينا أن نكون فاعلين كمواطنين ومواطنات في ألمانيا‪ .‬ليس علينا‬ ‫التعلم فقط‪ ،‬وإنما أيضا ً أن نبدي رأيا ً ونقوم بمشاريعنا الخاصّة‪.‬‬ ‫تصورنا عن حياتنا هنا في ألمانيا أصابه الكثير من التغير بعد‬ ‫أربع سنوات‪ .‬ليس لنا حق االنتخاب‪ ،‬وهذا أمر ال يجوز في‬ ‫بلد ديمقراطي‪ ،‬ولكن مع ذلك لدينا صوت‪ .‬نستطيع أن نظهر‬ ‫للناس أنّنا جزء من المجتمع‪ ،‬وال يجب أن نندمج‪ ،‬وإنما ببساطة‬ ‫أن نعيش‪ ،‬كما هم اآلخرون بالضبط‪ .‬نحن نتعلم شيء‪ ،‬ولكن‬ ‫علينا أيضا ً أن نعطي شيئاً‪ .‬الكثير ال يوافقونني في هذا الرأي‪.‬‬ ‫ربما يشعرون بالخذالن أو ليس لديهم الرغبة ببساطة‪ ،‬بعد كل‬ ‫ما عاشوه في سوريا‪ .‬علينا إيجاد حل‪ ،‬علينا أن نتحدث بطريقة‬ ‫أخرى مع هؤالء‪ ،‬علينا أن نقنعهم بأنّه بمقدورهم أن يفعلوا شيئا ً‬ ‫ما‪ .‬علينا أن نغير القوانين‪ .‬منذ عام ‪ 2016‬بدأت تزيد المصاعب‬ ‫الرسمية على الالجئين‪ .‬هناك الترحيل على سبيل المثال في‬ ‫أوروبا عموما ً كما أنّ القوانين تزداد سوءاً‪ ،‬ايضا ً بسبب حركة‬ ‫اليمين‪ .‬إذا لم نقاوم هذا‪ ،‬سيزداد األمر سوءاً أكثر‪.‬‬ ‫يوهنا‪-‬يسيرى كلوز‪ :‬أن تكون مبادرة "شتابل تور" مكانا ً للتنظيم‬ ‫السياسي أمر فيه استمراية تاريخية‪ ،‬على اعتبار أنّ الكثير مما‬ ‫يسمى منظمات المهاجرين والمهاجرات تم تأسّيسها لتكون منصّة‬ ‫للمشاركة السياسّية بسبب رفض منحهم حق االنتخاب القائم حتى‬ ‫اآلن‪ .‬في هذا الشأن هناك نقاش كبير منذ عشرات السنوات‪ .‬من‬ ‫المثير لالهتمام ما قلته اآلن رحيم‪ :‬المشاكل لألسف لم تحل‪ ،‬بل‬ ‫وأصبحت جزئيا ً بشكل أسوأ‪.‬‬ ‫‪Christian Wagemann, Rahim Darwisha‬‬ ‫بشي ّخيِر يقف بمواجهة‬ ‫ذلك‪ .‬كان الهدف واضحا ً وهو أن نقوم ِ‬ ‫شيء آخر‪ .‬يأتي ك ُل واح ٍد منا بفكرة ومن ثم نرى‪.‬‬ ‫يوهنا‪-‬يسيرى كلوز‪ :‬هل تريدون القول إذاً أنكم فعليا ً في جمعية الـ‬ ‫بعمل متعدد الثقافات؟‬ ‫‪ 47‬تقومون‬ ‫ِ‬ ‫كريستيان فاجيمان‪ :‬عندما بدأنا كانت كلمة "متعدد الثقافات" هي‬ ‫الكلمة المفتاح في الخطاب‪ ،‬وكنت أستطيع أن أرى نفسي فيها‪،‬‬ ‫بما تعنيه من تبادل بين الثقافات‪ .‬عندما نرى كثرة استخدامها اليوم‬ ‫من منظور محدد نجدها بطريقة ما لم تعد الكلمة الصحيحة ألنّها‬ ‫تبدو حبيسة كل ثقافة على حدى‪ ،‬لذا تُستخدم كلمة "عابر للثقافات‬ ‫‪ "Transkultur‬عوضا ً عنها‪ .‬ولكن عندما أفكر بالموضوع مرة‬ ‫أخرى أجد كلمة "متعدد الثقافات" تتجاوز حقيقةً منظور المنشأ‬ ‫هذا وتبدو لي شديدة المنطقية‪ ،‬ألنها تعني الذهاب إلى التواصل‬ ‫في المجتمع بدالً من بقاء كل واحد في فقاعته‪ .‬ليس بالضرورة أن‬ ‫يكون لهذا األمر عالقة بالهجرة وخالفه‪ .‬ربما يشمل ذلك أيضا ً‬ ‫ألمان بيض من الطبقة الوسطى تكون زيارتهم لنا هي مناسبتهم‬ ‫األولى لمراجعة ثقافتهم الخاصّة‪ .‬لدي الشعور قليالً بأنّ هذه هي‬ ‫مهمتنا عندما نتحدث عن ثقافة اجتماعية ‪ :Soziokultur‬أي أن‬ ‫تبتغي العروض الثقافية التواصل االجتماعي والتربية السياسية‪،‬‬ ‫وأيضا ً ببساطة الفهم الديمقراطي واألداء التضامني والحياة‬ ‫بتضامن تعاوني مشترك‪ .‬في نهاية المطاف ال أريد حقيقة أن‬ ‫أب ّخس المفهوم حقه مباشرةً‪.‬‬ ‫رحيم درويشة‪ :‬بالنسبة لي كان األمر دعوةً إلى مكان من أجل‬ ‫تبادل الثقافات المختلفة‪ ،‬رغم شعوري بأنّ معظم الحضور هم‬ ‫من األلمان البيض‪ .‬و أنا هنا أريد ان أتوقف عند هذه النقطة‬ ‫وأنتقد أنفسنا بسبب قلة حضور األشخاص الالجئين‪ .‬نحن نحاول‬ ‫في مبادرة شتابل تور أن نحّسن من هذا الشيء‪ .‬أرى أن جزءاً‬ ‫من مهمتي هي دعوة الالجئين والناس من خلفيات مهاجرة‪.‬‬ ‫أحيان أخرى لم ينجح‪ .‬لدينا اآلن بعض‬ ‫نجح األمر أحيانا ً وفي‬ ‫ٍ‬ ‫األفكار التي قد تساعد أو تحسن مثل االحتفال ضمن إطار مبادرة‬ ‫"شتابل تور" بعيد الفطر مع مئتين أو ثالثمئة شخص‪ ،‬نصفهم‬ ‫ألمان والنصف األخر من المسلمين المهاجرين باختالف ثقافتهم‬ ‫واصولهم‪ .‬نفكر أيضا ً بشيء مع المهاجرين من ذوي البشرة‬ ‫الملونة إلخ‪...‬‬ ‫يوهنا‪-‬يسيرى كلوز‪ :‬بعد توقف المحل في شارع مونتس بقيتم فترة‬ ‫طويلة دون مكان‪ ،‬واآلن أنتم جمعية لمبادرة المركز االجتماعي‬ ‫الثقافي شتابل تور الذي ما زال قيد التأسيس والبناء‪ .‬ما هي‬ ‫خططكم لهذا المركز؟‬ ‫كريستيان فاجيمان‪ :‬مثلما قال رحيم‪ :‬لم نستطيع بالتأكيد تحويل‬ ‫ما عزمنا عليه إلى واقع‪ .‬بالتأكيد كان سيكون وهما ً لو اعتقدنا‬ ‫أنّه بمشروع محل حالقة سابق سيغدو كل شيء متنوع والجميع‬ ‫ُم َمثلون‪ .‬بذات الوقت هي مسألة موارد‪ ،‬فحينها لم يكن لدينا‬ ‫إمكانيات مادية‪ .‬كنا أخذنا لحسن الحظ منكم تمويل االنطالق‪،‬‬ ‫ولكن بعدها بقينا ندفع اآلجار لوحدنا‪ .‬ألول مرة حصلنا اآلن على‬ ‫موارد لتطوير المركز‪ .‬ولكن لسنة واحدة فقط‪ .‬نحن اآلن في‬ ‫طريقنا لبناء مؤسّسة تستمر أيضا ً في المنظور الطويل كمركز في‬ ‫المدينة‪ ،‬ألنّه ال يوجد سواه‪ .‬سنُقدم اآلن وظائف ونأمل بأن نبدأ‬ ‫نصف احترافيا ً بإقامة مشاريع‪ ،‬وورشات عمل تصب في مواجهة‬ ‫للعنصّرية‪ ،‬ومراجعة الذات‪ ،‬وتطوير المنظمة‪ ،‬وبرامج التمكين‪،‬‬ ‫التي نحتاجها للوصول إلى هذا الهدف‪.‬‬ ‫رحيم درويشة‪ :‬أتخيل على سبيل المثال في "شتابل تور" وجود‬ ‫شبكة من صالت التواصل مع المجموعات األخرى المشابهة‬ ‫والمشاريع المنتظمة‪ .‬أستطيع القول إننا نقوم بمثل ما قمنا به في شارع‬ ‫مونتس‪ ،‬مع فارق أنّه أضخم شيئا ً ما‪ ،‬وأفضل تنظيما ً وتواصالً‪ .‬اآلن‬ ‫‪303‬‬ ‫سبيل المثال مفهوم "التباعد االجتماعي"‪ ،‬لماذا اجتماعي وليس‬ ‫فيزيائي؟ لدي شعور بأنّ العالقات عموما ً بين الناس ازدادت‬ ‫سوءاً‪ ،‬وكأنّني صرت أخشى من اآلخرين وهم بنفس الوقت‬ ‫يخشون مني‪ .‬نستطيع الحديث كثيراً عن الرأسمالّية‪ ،‬ولكن العيش‬ ‫بشكل طبيعي في هذا الوقت هو تحدي حقيقي‪ .‬ليس بوسعنا سوى‬ ‫االنتظار حتى ينتهي‪.‬‬ ‫‪Christian Wagemann, Rahim Darwisha‬‬ ‫رحيم درويشة‪ :‬نعم‪ ،‬على سبيل المثال كنت قد تحدثت مع العديد‬ ‫من معارفي أثناء انتخاب "استشارية االندماج" من أجل المساهمة‬ ‫باالنتخابات ولكن جميعهم لم يرغبوا بالمشاركة في االنتخابات‪.‬‬ ‫عندما سألتهم عن السبب أعطوا إجابات من قبيل‪" :‬ما الذي‬ ‫سيغيره ذلك؟ هذا مجرد هراء‪ .‬صوتي ليس له أي تأثير"‪ .‬هم‬ ‫مصابون اذا بالخذالن ويجب أن نعيد بناء الثقة معهم‪ .‬أفهم الناس‪،‬‬ ‫فهم مروا بالكثير من التجارب الصعبة‪ .‬عمري اآلن ‪ 33‬ولم‬ ‫يكن لي يوما ً فرصة االنتخاب‪ .‬هذا يعني أننا لم نتعلم ذلك‪ ،‬ليس‬ ‫لدينا تصور عن أهمية الموضوع‪ .‬لذلك نحتاج إلى تربية سياسّية‬ ‫جديدة‪.‬‬ ‫يوهنا‪-‬يسيرى كلوز‪ :‬نهاية ”بانغيا „‪ Pangaea Ultima‬هي‬ ‫افتراض من علوم الجيولوجيا يقول بأنّه ربما قد تعود القارات‬ ‫الخمسة لتكون واحدة وذلك بعد مائتين مليون عام‪ .‬نحن نقول بأنّ‬ ‫منطقة الرور هي بطريق ٍة ما "بانغيا" ويمكننا الحديث عن تحديات‬ ‫هذا الشيء‪ .‬مبادرتكم أصبحت اآلن واقعاً‪ .‬ما الذي تأملونه من‬ ‫المستقبل؟‬ ‫كريستيان فاجيمان‪ :‬آمل أن ينقرض الفاشيون والفاشيات وأن‬ ‫نصل إلى غالبية تريد نفس الحقوق للجميع‪ .‬وأتمنى ممن هم ليسوا‬ ‫فاشيين وفاشيات أن يتحققوا من كون فهمهم الديمقراطي ليس‬ ‫ه ّشاً‪ .‬فهم ال يالحظون حجب الحقوق الديمقراطية عمن ال يمتلك‬ ‫جواز سفر ألماني‪ .‬ربما كان من األهداف متوسطة المدى هو أن‬ ‫يكون لجميع من يعيش في ألمانيا حق االنتخاب‪ .‬وأال تتم المساومة‬ ‫على هذا األمر‪ .‬فيما يتعلق بصورة "بانغيا" أرى فيها أنّها شديدة‬ ‫ب واحد أبداً‪،‬‬ ‫اإلقليميّة وأنا أعتقد‪ ،‬منطقة الرور ليست على قل ٍ‬ ‫وإنما هناك الكثير من الحدود والجدران والعزل حتى و إن كان‬ ‫القطار يصل مدينة بأخرى‪ .‬المسألة والحل هي القيام بهدم هذه‬ ‫الجدران وإزالة الحواجز‪.‬‬ ‫رحيم درويشة‪ :‬أمل أن نكون بغني عن الحديث عن "االندماج"‬ ‫في المستقبل‪ .‬عندما أذهب على سبيل المثال إلى مدينة وأرى‬ ‫الجميع يتحدث ضد العنصّرية‪ ،‬فإنّ االنطباع األول إيجابي‪،‬‬ ‫غير أنّه دليل أيضا ً على أنّ هناك مشكلة عنصّرية كبيرة في هذه‬ ‫المدينة‪ .‬أمل أن ال نكون مضطرين في المستقبل للحديث عن هذا‬ ‫الموضوع‪ .‬يوجد في ألمانيا شعور وهاجس عنصّري‪ .‬البعض من‬ ‫األشخاص هنا يقف ضد العنصّرية‪ ،‬ولكن فقط نظرياً‪ ،‬في حين‬ ‫يتسّم سلوكهم وأقوالهم بالعنصّرية‪ .‬كيف أستطيع اذا أن أكون‬ ‫معاديا ً فعالً للعنصّرية؟ لو كانت المسألة على طبيعتها الخالية‬ ‫من العنصرية لكففنا مثال عن طرح السؤال المتكرر "من أين‬ ‫أنت؟"‪ .‬حقيقة هناك الكثير من العمل هنا يمكن العمل عليه‪ ،‬ولكن‬ ‫الخطوة األولى بسيطة‪ ،‬وهي َجمع الناس ليتعرفوا على بعضهم‪.‬‬ ‫وأنا متفائل‪.‬‬ ‫يوهنا‪-‬يسيرى كلوز‪ :‬أريد أن أتحدث عن الفيل في هذه الغرفة‪:‬‬ ‫ما الذي تعنيه كورونا لكم؟ بالنسبة للكثيرين هي لحظة مهمة‬ ‫يصفونها بالتاريخية‪.‬‬ ‫كريستيان فاجيمان‪ :‬اعتقدت بأنّ ما تعنيه بالفيل هي الرأسمالية!‬ ‫ولكن األمران يتناسبان‪ ،‬فما نعيشه اآلن هو توجيه كل مقدرات‬ ‫وطاقات الدولة إلنقاذ الرأسمالية وليس للتغلب على الوباء بحد‬ ‫ذاته‪ .‬ربما هي فرصة أخرى لكي نظهر للناس‪ :‬نعم‪ ،‬هذا ما كنا‬ ‫نعنيه طوال الوقت بقولنا أنّ الظروف تخدم الرأسمالّية‪ .‬لذلك ربما‬ ‫بمقدورنا بطريقة ما أن نكون متضامنين ضمن صف واحد ضد‬ ‫هذه السياسة‪.‬‬ ‫رحيم درويشة‪ :‬بالنسبة لي شخصيا ً سنة الكورونا هي أسوأ سنة‬ ‫في كل حياتي‪ .‬لم أنجز شيئاً‪ ،‬بسبب ذلك بالطبع‪ .‬ال أحب األساليب‬ ‫التي اجبرنا على االلتزام بها من أجل محاربة الوباء‪ .‬على‬ INDEX 304 Index Interkultur Ruhr 2016-2021 as of July 2021 2021 >>> pages 8 & 128 <<< Anatolpolitan & Freie Radikale, Mehmet Usta Hörerzählung (Mehmet Usta audio story), a project by the Anatolpolitan initiative and the theatre group Freie Radikale in cooperation with Interkultur Ruhr, sponsored by Stadt Bochum Kulturschirm and Stadt Duisburg. Duisburg/Bochum 2021. Tief im Westen (im Kleinformat) (Deep in the West (in small format), a journey in time and space through the Ruhr region with footage from the Ruhr Region Archive for Home Movies and Amateur Film, a series of events in various cities throughout the Ruhr region by Geremia Carrara in cooperation with Interkultur Ruhr. The archive was created within the framework of the Interkultur Ruhr project with the support of the Forum Geschichtskultur an Ruhr und Emscher e.V. The archive is sponsored by the Stiftung Ruhr Museum. Ruhr region 2021. Pangaea Studios, Pangaea wählt (Pangaea Votes), a performative series of events and poster campaign by the Transnationales Ensemble Labsa in cooperation with Interkultur Ruhr. Dortmund/Ruhr region 2021. >>> page 92 <<< Becoming Black, screening of the film by Ines Johnson-Spain as a safe space for BIPOC, a project by the Association for Black Art_ists e.V. in cooperation with the atelier automatique picnic cinema and Interkultur Ruhr. Bochum 2021. Interkultur Ruhr network meeting, Netzwerke und Sichtbarkeit interkultureller Arbeit im Ruhrgebiet (Networks and the Visibility of Intercultural Work in the Ruhr Region), within the framework of Ruhr International – das Fest der Kulturen (Ruhr International – the Festival of Cultures), organised by Stadt Bochum, Bahnhof Langendreer e.V. and Bochumer Veranstaltungs-GmbH in cooperation with Interkultur Ruhr and Teranga Bochum e.V. Bochum 3/7/2021. >>> page 192 <<< Ruhr International – das Fest der Kulturen (Ruhr International – the Festival of Cultures), organised by Stadt Bochum, Bahnhof Langendreer e.V. and Bochumer Veranstaltungs-GmbH in cooperation with Interkultur Ruhr and Teranga Bochum e.V. Bochum 2021. On Black Archives, presentation of the outcomes of the Fasia Jansen artist residency, a project by the Association for Black Art_ists e.V. in cooperation with the Internationales Frauen* Film Fest Dortmund+Köln 2021 and Interkultur Ruhr. Oberhausen/Dortmund/Cologne 2021. Standbeine. Spielbeine. Perspektiven für Kultureinrichtungen der freien Szene (Footholds. Wriggle Room. Perspectives for Cultural Institutions in the Independent Scene), contribution to Zukunft.KULTUR.NRW, digital conference on new perspectives on cultural politics, an event by the Kulturrat NRW in collaboration with Deutscher Städtetag NRW, NRW Kultursekretariat Wuppertal, Kultursekretariat NRW Gütersloh and Stadt Dortmund. Dortmund 2021. All We’ll Ever Need, music video by Fehler Kuti using cine film from the Ruhr Region Archive for Home Movies and Amateur Film. The archive was created within the framework of the Interkultur Ruhr project with the support of the Forum Geschichtskultur an Ruhr und Emscher e.V. The archive is sponsored by the Stiftung Ruhr Museum. Munich 2021. >>> page 192 <<< Kalakuta Soul Radio, radio station for diasporic club and pop culture and solidary BIPOC space for the production and publication of music, art and knowledge, a project by Amalopa Communities in cooperation with Interkultur Ruhr. Bochum 2021. Pangaea Studios, Podcast zum interkulturellen Arbeiten im Ruhrgebiet (Podcast on intercultural work in the Ruhr region), a INDEX 305 project by Olga Felker and Interkultur Ruhr in cooperation with Kalakuta Soul Radio. Ruhr region 2021. Podcast Faţadă / Fassade: Wie sich Rom*nja Wohnraum zurückerobern (Faţadă/ Façade: How Rom*nja Reclaim Living Space), second season of the podcast as part of Faţadă / Fassade – Ausstellung, Werkstatt, Diskursort (Faţadă/Façade – Exhibition, Workshop, Discussion Venue), a project by HMKV Hartware MedienKunstVerein, Interkultur Ruhr and Werkstatt Mallinckrodtstraße. Dortmund 2021. for Happiness – 200 Years of Emigration to America) in cooperation with the Förderverein Henrichshütte Hattingen. The Ruhr Region Archive for Home Movies and Amateur Film was created within the framework of the Interkultur Ruhr project with the support of the Forum Geschichtskultur an Ruhr und Emscher e.V. The archive is sponsored by the Stiftung Ruhr Museum. Hattingen 2020. more than IMAGES 2010–2020, participation in a panel discussion on the ten-year anniversary of the European Capital of Culture RUHR.2010 within the framework of Salon 2030. Essen 2020. 2020 >>> page 192 <<< Der Interkulturelle Kalender des Ruhrgebiets (The Ruhr Region Intercultural Calendar), a project by Mehmet Bingöllü and Interkultur Ruhr in cooperation with the Alevitische Gemeinde Essen e.V., the Iranisches Informations- und Kulturzentrum Essen, the Bahá’í-Gemeinde Essen, Teranga Bochum e.V., the Hinduistische Gemeinde Hamm, the Buddhistisches Zentrum Essen, the Yeni Camii Essen, Fest der Toten in Dortmund, and the Landesverband der Jüdischen Gemeinden von Nordrhein K.d.ö.R., among others, podcast by Olga Felker. Oberhausen/Essen/Gelsenkirchen/Dortmund/Hamm etc. 2020. Pangaea Studios present: Leuchtende Überraschung (Vivid Surprise), a project by the Transnationales Ensemble Labsa and Interkultur Ruhr, by and with Abdullah Moradi, Ahmad Reza Ashury, Alexis Rodríguez Suárez, Anna Hauke, Betty Schiel, Cecil Arndt, Emilia Hagelganz, Fabian Saavedra-Lara, Guido Meincke, Hbret Brhane, Henriette Gunkel, Johanna-Yasirra Kluhs, Jola Kozok, Leonie Arnold, Lisa Domin, Marco Cucuiu, Naomi Cosma Rüttgers, Piotr Zapasnik, Ralf Tibor Stemmer, Sabitha Saul, Seb Holl-Trieu, Seratu Bah, Vité Joksaité, Wolfgang Kienast and Yacouba Coulibaly. Dortmund 2020. Familienfilme des Ruhrgebiets auf Tour (Ruhr Region Home Movies on Tour), film screenings within the framework of the exhibition Vom Streben nach Glück – 200 Jahre Auswanderung nach Amerika (Striving Kulturkonferenz Duisburg (Conference on Culture Duisburg), participation in a panel discussion on the theme of “Art and culture for everyone?!” with Thomas Krützberg (Stadt Duisburg Department of Culture), Heike Herold (LAG Soziokultur), Halil Özet (Medienbunker Marxloh) and Peter Grabowski (Der Kulturpolitische Reporter), as well as the co-organisation of the workshop Interkultur in Duisburg – Wie geht’s? (Interculture in Duisburg – How Are You?) with Nesrin Tanç (Anatolpolitan), Mizgin Bilmen (Agentur Ausländerrauş), Yilmaz Holtz-Ersahin (Interkulturelle Bibliothek) and Cem Organ (Stadt Duisburg International Centre). Duisburg 2020. >>> page 24 <<< Workshops zur Anti-Rassismus- Klausel (Workshops on the Anti-Racism Clause), co-organisation of a two-day public workshop within the framework of DIE VIELEN NRW. Mülheim an der Ruhr 2020. Familienfilme des Ruhrgebiets auf Tour (Ruhr Region Home Movies on Tour), film screening on the occasion of International Women’s Day in the Henrichshütte Hattingen, in cooperation with the LWL Industriemuseum Henrichshütte Hattingen. The Ruhr Region Archive for Home Movies and Amateur Film was created within the framework of the Interkultur Ruhr project with the support of the Forum Geschichtskultur an Ruhr und Emscher e.V. The archive is sponsored by Stiftung Ruhr Museum. Hattingen 2020. Nesrin Tanç, Irem Kurt, Lütfiye Güzel, Emine Sevgi Özdamar, Adriana Kocijan, Hicran Demir, Gürsoy Tanç/NumaQaM Studios and INDEX Agentur Ausländerrauş, among others, Akkordarbeit im halb verbrannten Wald (Piecework in a Half Burned-Out Forest), research, exhibition, lecture performance and radio play in cooperation with the Akademie der Künste der Welt Köln. Duisburg 2020. >>> page 192 <<< Off the Record, series of discussions and listening sessions in podcast form with international artists, musicians and DJs, an event by Kalakuta Soul Records, atelier automatique and the Why Not? collective. Bochum 2020. >>> page 92 <<< Ikonen des Ruhrgebiets (AT) (Icons of the Ruhr Region [working title]), Fasia Jansen 306 rary Witness Film & Image – Super8), video, talk and seminar by the Freie Universität Oberhausen, a project by kitev (Kultur im Turm e.V.). The Ruhr Region Archive for Home Movies and Amateur Film was created within the framework of the Interkultur Ruhr project with the support of the Forum Geschichtskultur an Ruhr und Emscher e.V. The archive is sponsored by the Stiftung Ruhr Museum. Hattingen 2020. >>> page 54 <<< Salon der Perspektiven, KulturbetReiben (Yallah, make culture), in cooperation with Interkultur Ruhr, sponsored by Fonds Soziokultur. Ruhr region 2020. working residency within the framework of the Ruhr Region Archive for Home Movies and Amateur Film, in cooperation with the Internationales Frauen* Film Fest Dortmund+Köln 2020. Oberhausen/Dortmund 2020/21. Geschichte, Arbeit, Wert (History, Work, Worth), lecture and panel discussion within the framework of the exhibition Le Surplus by Ève Chabanon in Westfälischen Kunstverein. Münster 2020. Curating (In)visibilities – Curating Resistance, >>> page 102 <<< Satır family/Initiative Duisburg 1984, Gegen das Vergessen, für die Aufklärung! (Against Forgetting, for Clarification!), in cooperation with Interkultur Ruhr. Duisburg 2020. invitation from an action group to an intervention at Ruhr International in cooperation with Bahnhof Langendreer e.V., Stadt Bochum and Bochumer Veranstaltungs-GmbH/Jahrhunderthalle Bochum, supported by Sparkasse Bochum, Stiftung der Sparkasse Bochum and WDR Radio Cosmo. Bochum 2020. Faţadă / Fassade (Faţadă/Façade), exhibition in Dortmunder U and accompanying programme at various venues, a project by HMKV Hartware MedienKunstVerein, Interkultur Ruhr and Werkstatt Mallinckrodtstraße, sponsored by Stadt Dortmund, Ministerium für Kultur und Wissenschaft des Landes NRW, Kunststiftung NRW, Fonds Soziokultur and Bundeszentrale für politische Bildung. Project partner: Djelem Djelem – Dortmund Festival for Roma Cultures, among others. Dortmund 2020. >>> page 148 <<< Favoriten Festival 2020, Maşallah Dortmund, programme series conceived by Tunay Önder, in cooperation with Interkultur Ruhr, sponsored by LWL-Kulturstiftung, Kunststiftung NRW, Interkultur Ruhr as well as Soziokultur NRW. Dortmund 2020. Rebecca Gottschick and Geremia Carrara, Zeitzeuge Film & Bild – Super8 (Contempo- Potentiale und Bedarfe interkultureller Arbeit im Ruhrgebiet (Potentials and Requirements of Intercultural Work in the Ruhr Region), start of year meeting of the Interkultur Ruhr network, kitev (Kultur im Turm e.V.)/VHS. Oberhausen 22/1/2020. Interkultur Ruhr network meeting, Zukunft in- terkultureller Förderung & Infrastrukturen einer pluralistischen Erinnerungskultur (Future of Intercultural Funding & Infrastructures of a Pluralistic Culture of Remembrance). Online/ Duisburg 27/11/2020. Active, regular participation in meetings and events of the initiative DIE VIELEN NRW. 2020. Active, regular participation in Diversität (Diversity) round table. Bochum 2020. 2019 Post-Heimat (Post-Home), national working meeting of intercultural theatre initiatives on INDEX the themes of flight, migration and diversity. Theater an der Ruhr, Mülheim an der Ruhr 2019. Transkulturelle Gesellschaft – What’s Art Got To Do With It? (Transcultural Society – What’s Art Got To Do With It?), moderation of a panel discussion with Maria Milisavljevic (author, Munich), Bernhard Studlar (author, Vienna) and Max Czollek (author, Berlin) within the framework of the Burg Hülshoff – Center for Literature’s think tank To belong or not to belong? Münster 2019. Café Kosmos (Cosmos Cafe), two cine film evenings with commentary from the Ruhr Region Archive for Home Movies and Amateur Film within the framework of the Internationales Frauen* Film Fest Dortmund+Köln 2019, in cooperation with IFFF Dortmund+Köln, Stiftung Ruhr Museum and Akademie der Künste der Welt Köln, with the support of the Forum Geschichtskultur an Ruhr und Emscher e.V., LWL-Medienzentrum für Westfalen, LVR-Zentrum für Medien und Bildung and Ruhr Tourismus GmbH. Dortmund/Cologne 2019. Strategien der Aneignung (Strategies of Appropriation), participation in a panel discussion at HELLERAU – Europäisches Zentrum der Künste with Julian Warner (cultural researcher, performer, Munich), Oliver Zahn (theatre director, Munich), Dr. Ira Spieker (ISGV/TU Dresden) and Scarlet Yu (dancer, choreographer, Berlin/Hong Kong). Dresden 2019. In Arbeit (In Progress), film evening within the framework of the Überleben in Zeiten des Kapitalismus (Surviving in the Era of Capitalism) programme with supporting film from the Ruhr Region Archive for Home Movies and Amateur Film, in cooperation with Niehler Freiheit e.V., with the support of the Forum Geschichtskultur an Ruhr und Emscher e.V., Stiftung Ruhr Museum, LWL-Medienzentrum für Westfalen, LVR-Zentrum für Medien und Bildung and Ruhr Tourismus GmbH. Cologne 2019. WES BROT ICH ESS, DES LIED ICH SING? – Kunstfreiheit zwischen antidemokratischen Tendenzen und internationaler Kulturpolitik (HE WHO PAYS THE PIPER CALLS THE TUNE?– Artistic Freedom between An- 307 ti-Democratic Tendencies and International Cultural Politics), moderation of a panel discussion with Agata Adamiecka-Sitek (Zbigniew Raszewski Theatre Institute, Warsaw), Melis Tezkan and Oman Urun (biriken, Istanbul), Diya Naidu (independent artist, Bangalore), Henrique Saidel (theatre director, performance artist, curator, toy collector, lecturer and researcher at the Drama Institute of Universidade Federal do Rio Grande do Sul in Porto Alegre), Nelisiwe Xaba (artist, Johannesburg) and Salam Yousry (theatre director, author and visual artist, Cairo) within the framework of Impulse Theater Festival’s Akademie #1 Kunst unter Druck (Academy #1 Art under Pressure). Mülheim an der Ruhr 2019. Round table on intercultural work in Flanders, North Rhine-Westphalia and the Netherlands, participation with network partners within the framework of the Flämische Woche NRW in cooperation with the Flanders Arts Institute, Zukunftsakademie NRW and the Cultural Participation Fund. Düsseldorf 2019. >>> page 14 <<< Afro Ruhr Festival, Mohamed Altoum, photo and video exhibition and discussion in cooperation with Africa Positive e.V. Dortmund 2019. IDENTITÄT (IDENTITY), participation in a panel discussion with Jasmin Maghames (dramaturge, Ringlokschuppen) and Yacouba Coulibaly (performer, Ensemble LABSA) within the framework of Europefiction, a project by Theater Rotterdam, Junges Schauspielhaus (Bochum), 20 Stories High (Liverpool), Consol Theater (Gelsenkirchen), La Baracca (Bologna), Theater Kohlenpott (Herne), Kolibri Theatre (Budapest), Helios Theater (Hamm), Transplanisphère (Paris) and KJT Dortmund. Gelsenkirchen 2019. Familienfilme des Ruhrgebiets auf Tour (Ruhr Region Home Movies on Tour), film screenings from the Ruhr Region Archive for Home Movies and Amateur Film in Zentrum Altenberg, on the Museumsbahnsteig and in Rathaus Oberhausen, a project by Geremia Carrara in cooperation with the Freien Universität Oberhausen, kitev and Kino im Walzenlager, sponsored by VG Bild-Kunst, with the support of the Forum Geschichtskultur an Ruhr und Emscher e.V., Stiftung Ruhr Museum, INDEX LWL-Medienzentrum für Westfalen, LVR-Zentrum für Medien und Bildung and Ruhr Tourismus GmbH. Oberhausen 2019. Faţadă / Fassade – Von Repressionen und Repräsentationen im Stadtraum (Faţadă/ Façade – Repression and Representation in Urban Space), façade design, exhibition, discussion and workshop party in cooperation with Stadt Dortmund, Grünbau gGmbH and the Roma culture festival Djelem Djelem, initiated and realised with Mathias Jud and Christoph Wachter. Dortmund 2019. >>> pages 168 & 138 <<< Design for a visitor programme for an international group of artists from the Goethe-Institut with intercultural actors in Mülheim an der Ruhr, Makroscope, Silent University, Ruhrorter, Theater an der Ruhr and Ringlokschuppen Ruhr. Mülheim an der Ruhr 2019. Rebetiko Ruhr, series of concerts by regional rebetiko ensembles in dialogue with the work Αλληλεγγύη (Solidarity) by Barbara Ehnes and team, supported by Ruhrtriennale and Wostspitze e.V. Bochum 2019. >>> page 192 <<< Off the Record, series of discussions and listening sessions with international artists, musicians and DJs, an event by Kalakuta Soul Records, atelier automatique and the Why Not? collective. Bochum 2019. >>> page 102 <<< Interkultur Ruhr network meeting: »Von Rassismus wurde nicht gesprochen« (“No One Talks about Racism”), panel discussion with Initiative DU 1984 about racism, right-wing violence and self-organised clarification, Blue Square. Bochum 14/6/2019. Interkultur Ruhr network meeting, Postkoloniale Perspektiven im Ruhrgebiet (Postcolonial Perspectives in the Ruhr Region), discussion evening with Natasha A. Kelly, atelier automatique. Bochum 29/1/2019. Active, regular participation in meetings and events by DIE VIELEN NRW initiative. 2019. Active, regular participation in the Diversität (Diversity) round table. Bochum 2019. 308 2018 Schmelztiegel Ruhrgebiet – Alltag schreibt Geschichte (Ruhr Region Melting Pot – Everyday Life Writes History), development of the Ruhr Region Archive for Home Movies and Amateur Film in cooperation with Ruhr-Tourismus GmbH, Forum Geschichtskultur an Ruhr und Emscher e.V. and Stiftung Ruhr Museum, with thanks to LWL Medienzentrum für Westfalen and LVR-Zentrum für Medien und Bildung for their essential support. 2018. Thomas Lehmen: Brauchse Jobb? Wir machen Kunst! (Need a Job? We Make Art!), part two, a project by Thomas Lehmen in cooperation with Interkultur Ruhr, sponsored by the Kunststiftung NRW, Stadt Oberhausen and Verfügungsfonds Oberhausen, with the support of Oberhausener Gebäudemanagement, the Inner City District Office and the Bürger*inneninitiative zur Erhaltung der Arbeiter*innensiedlung Gustavstraße. Oberhausen 2018. >>> page 246 & 192 <<< Ruhr International 2018 (contributions by Rangarang family/c.t.201, Transnationales Ensemble Labsa, Pottporus e.V., Machbarschaft Borsig11 e.V., Kalakuta Soul Records) in cooperation with Bahnhof Langendreer e.V., Stadt Bochum and Bochumer Veranstaltungs-GmbH/ Jahrhunderthalle Bochum, with the support of Sparkasse Bochum and Cosmo. Bochum 2018. Pizza Pangaea, workshops, actions and video project in cooperation with The Laboratory of Manuel Bürger, Youngsters Akademie, Anne-Frank-Gesamtschule Dortmund and five pizzerias in the Ruhr region. Dortmund/Bochum/Essen/Hattingen/Duisburg 2018. The Devil’s Garden, film screening, workshop and discussion with the artist Heba Y. Amin within the framework of the endstation.club, funded by Akademie der Künste der Welt Köln. Bochum 2018. Filmbuden on Tag der Trinkhallen (Film Kiosks on the Day of Drinking Halls), film screenings from the Ruhr Region Archive for Home Movies and Amateur Film in cooperation with Ruhr-Tourismus GmbH, Forum Geschichtskultur an Ruhr und Emscher e.V. and Stiftung Ruhr Museum, with thanks to LWL Medien- INDEX zentrum für Westfalen and LVR-Zentrum für Medien und Bildung for their essential support. Castrop-Rauxel/Bottrop/Recklinghausen/Dortmund/Dinslaken 2018. >>> page 192 <<< Off the Record: Ladies On Records, discussion and listening session with Kornelia Binicewicz in cooperation with atelier automatique and Kalakuta Soul Records. Bochum 2018. Kalakuta Soul Picnic, a project by Kalakuta Soul Records, sponsored as part of the special programme Hilfen im Städtebau für Kommunen zur Integration von Flüchtlingen (Help in Urban Development for Municipalities for the Integration of Refugees) by the state of North Rhine-Westphalia and Stadt Bochum. Bochum 2018. Faţadă / Fassade – Von Repressionen und Repräsentationen im Stadtraum (Faţadă/ Façade – Repression and Representation in Urban Space), research, workshop/work in progress, protagonists from the Rom*nja community and neighbours develop models for the design of a house in Dortmund Nordstadt, initiated with Mathias Jud and Christoph Wachter, in cooperation with Stadt Dortmund, Grünbau gGmbH and the Roma cultural festival Djelem Djelem. Dortmund 2018. Gustav Deutsch: so leben wir (How We Live), film screening from the Ruhr Region Archive for Home Movies and Amateur Film and discussion in cooperation with endstation.kino, with the support of the Forum Geschichtskultur an Ruhr und Emscher e.V., Stiftung Ruhr Museum, LWL-Medienzentrum für Westfalen, LVRZentrum für Medien und Bildung and Ruhr Tourismus GmbH. Bochum 2018. Wandersalon: Nur noch Rand, keine Mitte? (Nomadic Salon: Only Margins, No Centre?), co-organisation of a panel discussion about extremism in Germany in cooperation with Urbane Künste Ruhr and Duisburg Central Library. Duisburg 2018. knowbotiq, Amazonian Flesh – Neue Imaginationen des Arbeitskampfes (New Imaginations of Industrial Disputes), site exploration, installation and discussion, a project by knowbotiq, sponsored by Pro Helvetia, Stadt 309 Dortmund Culture Office and the Bundeskanzleramt Österreich/Kunst und Kultur, supported by Schauspiel Dortmund, the black frame Dortmund and the research project Re-Configuring Anonymity. Dortmund 2018. Aloha 103 Jahresschau (Annual Showcase), project presentation in cooperation with Machbarschaft Borsig11 e.V., with the support of DO-BO Villa and Stadt Dortmund Culture Office. Dortmund 2018. >>> Pages 8, 32, 192, 168, 220 <<< 7th Ruhr Culture Conference, Kulturorte für eine Metropole der Vielfalt? Zur Zukunft kultureller Räume und Institutionen (Cultural Sites for a Metropole of Diversity? On the Future of Cultural Spaces and Institutions). Landschaftspark Duisburg-Nord 14/9/2018. Interkultur Ruhr network meeting, Do it yourself! Digitale Kultur und Diversität (Digital Culture and Diversity), workshops, exchange and music [...] space. Witten 15/6/2018. 2017 Insel des guten Lebens (Island of the Good Life) – festival for migration and well-being, a collaboration by the Global Young Faculty with the artists Kerem Halbrecht, Anna Hentschel, Sebastian Quack and HUkultur, sponsored by Mercator Research Center Ruhr and co-produced by Urbane Künste Ruhr. Bochum Querenburg 2017. Gigo Propaganda, Ruhrgebiet JETZT! (Ruhr Region NOW!), research and performative traveling exhibition of the portrait series Ruhrgebiet JETZT by Gigo Propaganda in cooperation with max Frituur, Lokalfieber e.V., Consol Theater, sponsored by NRW Landesbüro Freie Darstellende Künste. The Ruhrgebiet JETZT portrait series is sponsored by Individuelle KünstlerInnen Förderung IKF/ the European Centre for Creative Economy. Bochum/Essen/Gelsenkirchen 2017. Heba Y. Amin: The Devil’s Garden, artistic research on a connection between the industrial history of the Ruhr region and current geopolitical conflicts and flight routes along the coast of North Africa, sponsored by the Akademie der Künste der Welt Köln. Ruhr region 2017/18. INDEX >>> page 138 <<< Ruhrorter, Das andere Zimmer (The Other Room) and Ich hielt in meinen Armen das Unmögliche (I Held the Impossible in My Arms), installation and play, sponsors and cooperation partners: the Ministerium für Kultur und Wissenschaft NRW, Kulturbetrieb Mülheim an der Ruhr, Koordinierungsstelle Kulturelle Bildung Mülheim an der Ruhr, Stiftung Mülheimer Wohnungsbau, SWB. Mülheim an der Ruhr 2017. Die autoritäre Wende in der Türkei: Wann fing alles an? (The Shift to Authoritarianism in Turkey: When Did It All Start?), panel discussion within the framework of the 63rd International Short Film Festival Oberhausen, in cooperation with the International Short Film Festival Oberhausen and Akademie der Künste der Welt Köln. Oberhausen 2017. Stan’s Cafe: Of All The People In All The World, installation in co-production with the Impulse Theater Festival and Ringlokschuppen Ruhr in cooperation with the Silent University Ruhr, funded by the Bundeszentrale für politischen Bildung and Mülheimer Stadtmarketing und Tourismus GmbH. Mülheim an der Ruhr 2017. cobratheater.cobra, Odysseen (Odysseys), research in cooperation with various schools in the Ruhr region. Oberhausen 2017/18. Brauchse Jobb? Wir machen Kunst! (Need a Job? We Make Art!), research, part one, a project by Thomas Lehmen, sponsored by Regionalverband Ruhr, Kunststiftung NRW, Individuelle Künstlerinnen- und Künstlerförderung IKF/the European Centre for Creative Economy, with support from Verein zur Erhaltung der Arbeitersiedlung Gustavstraße e.V., Stadt Oberhausen, OGM, the first station of the project im Unterhaus im Oberhaus was supported by kitev (Kultur im Turm e.V.). Oberhausen 2017. Off the Record: Cómeme & Kalakuta Soul Records, research, discussion series and listening sessions organised by Avril Ceballos and Guy Dermosessian in cooperation with Goldkante, Afro Ruhr Festival, Ruhrtriennale. Dortmund/Bochum 2017. 310 Afro-Tech & The Future of Re-Invention, exhibition about Afrofuturism and technological innovations in Dortmunder U with week-long festival (organised by the medienwerk.nrw office), an exhibition by HMKV Hartware MedienKunstVerein in cooperation with Interkultur Ruhr and Africa Positive e.V., supported by TURN funding from the Kulturstiftung des Bundes and the Ministerium für Kultur und Wissenschaft des Landes NRW. The festival week was sponsored by the Bundeszentrale für politische Bildung, Ministerium für Kultur und Wissenschaft des Landes NRW, NRW KULTUR-sekretariat International and Stadt Dortmund Culture Office. Dortmund 2017/18. Amazonian Flesh – Wir sind mehr als nur Daten (We Are More than Just Data), research and discussion evening on new forms of resistance and fabulation in logistics and migratory processes, a project by knowbotiq in cooperation with Machbarschaft Borsig11 e.V., sponsored by Pro Helvetia and Stadt Dortmund Culture Office. Dortmund 2017. Interkultur Ruhr network meeting, Weltmusik 2.0 (World Music 2.0), concerts and discussion on folklore and global pop. Katakomben-Theater, Essen 23/11/2017. Interkultur Ruhr network meeting: Übersetzen – Zusammenarbeit in einer multilingualen Gesellschaft (Translation – Collaboration in a Multilingual Society). Ringlokschuppen Ruhr, Mülheim an der Ruhr 3/7/2017. 2016 Oberhaus, co-creative intervention in cooperation with kitev (Kultur im Turm e.V.). Oberhausen 2016. Mit! (With!), conference on the themes of new ideas for old buildings and refugees for co-creative cities, in cooperation with kitev (Kultur im Turm e.V.). Oberhausen 2016. Interkultur Ruhr network meeting, Miteinander arbeiten – aber wie? Partizipation, Entlohnung, Ziele und Aufgaben (Working Together – But How? Participation, Remuneration, Aims and Duties.) Bahnhof Langendreer Bochum 21/11/2016. 311 This book is published at the conclusion of the first programme phase of Interkultur Ruhr. From 2016 to 2021, numerous cooperative projects, event and discussion formats as well as culturalpolitical processes were produced in partnership with independent initiatives, associations, selforganisations and institutions in the Ruhr region under the curatorial leadership of JohannaYasirra Kluhs and Fabian Saavedra-Lara. The index brings together all of these projects. Interkultur Ruhr is a follow-on project from the European Capital of Culture RUHR.2010’s programme area “City of Cultures” and part of the sustainability agreement between Regionalverband Ruhr (RVR) and the Ministry for Culture and Science of the State of North RhineWestphalia. The adoption of this programme area was initiated by RVR and by the various culture secretaries of the communes of the Ruhr region. An interdisciplinary board advised on the selection and work of the curatorial team. In conversation: Karola Geiß-Netthöfel 312 Diverse, sustainable, cosmopolitan Johanna-Yasirra Kluhs and Fabian Saavedra-Lara in conversation with Karola Geiß-Netthöfel, regional director of Regionalverband Ruhr Interkultur Ruhr is based in Essen and operates across the whole region. Karola Geiß-Netthöfel has accompanied the project from the beginning. In a short interview she highlights some of the aspects of cultural politics that are important for Interkultur Ruhr and the scene in the Ruhr region. What role does the theme of interculturalism play in your work? Interculturalism plays an important role in my work, as it embraces all areas of life. The Ruhr as a whole is characterised by its migration history, so interculturalism is the lived reality in the region. The protection and promotion of cultural diversity, participation and equal opportunities, as well as reinforcing an active culture of hospitality, is firmly embedded in the core of the Regionalverband Ruhr’s concept in terms of both aims and strategy. However, I wish we would make more use of the potential that comes from the inter- and transcultural reality of our region. Regionalverband Ruhr is involved in this through its Interkultur Ruhr programme and associated funding pots. In addition, at the beginning of this legislative period, the first directly elected Ruhr Parliament decided to rename the Culture and Sport Committee, making it the Committee for Culture, Sport and Diversity. This is a clear signal that a variety of voices and diversity – not only in terms of the cultural background of those active in the Ruhr region – is very close to our hearts. What has to change in order to better support diverse cultural work in the region? From my point of view, networking between those active in culture is an important aspect, so that there is dialogue with politics and administration, so that projects are developed collectively and so that the Ruhr cultural Diverse, sustainable, cosmopolitan 313 metropole is made visible in general. We have already achieved a lot in this area through our programme and Interkultur Ruhr’s regular network meetings. However, there is still much to be done. We have developed a concept, together with the curatorial team, as to what Interkultur Ruhr’s future project structure could look like. The recommended cultural political measures, which were developed with members of the region’s intercultural scene, also fed into this concept. A regional coordination site for the Interkultur Ruhr network, a residency programme to link the independent scene and state institutions as well as the creation of a platform for cultural-political dialogue in cooperation with regional stakeholders are all possible approaches. Which voices interest you in particular in the development of a visionary Ruhr culture? I’m particularly interested in the diversity of voices in the region. The more diverse the Ruhr region is, the more varied the cultural scene. We as RVR try to connect and network creators of culture or certain areas of culture. Together they form this lively and diverse cultural metropole. By the way, we don’t see interculturalism as a specific branch of art, but rather as a cross-sectional objective that is relevant to all areas of cultural creation. What would an ideal day in the cultural life of the Ruhr region in 2030 look like for you? I won’t be the regional director of Regionalverband Ruhr anymore in 2030. But what we are planning and initiating today will pay off in the future. For example, we have established the project Kunstcamp to support young artistic talent from the region, with and without migration backgrounds, at the interface between classic and new forms of art. I would love, after Kunstcamp has been running for around ten years, to be invited to a meeting of all the previous participants and to find out that many of these young artists still live and work in the Ruhr region, pursuing their artistic work. Education, participation and equal opportunities are the prerequisites for the Ruhr being and remaining a diverse, sustainable and cosmopolitan region. Apostolos Tsalastras, Jörg Stüdemann 314 New potentials for action Welcoming remarks from Jörg Stüdemann, Head of Finance, Properties and Culture of the City of Dortmund, and Apostolos Tsalastras, 1st Councillor, Treasurer and Councillor for Culture of the City of Oberhausen Interkultur Ruhr has fulfilled its mandate with a success rarely seen in other projects, and at the same time demonstrated how necessary its aims continue to be for cultural work and politics in the Ruhr region. It took a great collective effort by RVR and councillors for culture in the first place to convince the state government that a sustainable structure around the theme of interculturalism would also have to be established in order to fulfil the European Capital of Culture RUHR.2010 sustainability agreement. It was therefore not until very late on, in 2016, that the Interkultur Ruhr project finally got going, with the curators Johanna-Yasirra Kluhs and Fabian Saavedra-Lara at the helm. Those two and their whole team managed to create thrilling and innovative events with diverse cooperations that reflected the diversity of the Ruhr region on the one hand, but also provided new inspiration through exciting and new art productions. The promotional funds lent support to the Ruhr region’s intercultural scene in the form of numerous small projects, raising its profile within cultural politics and among the general public, and shining a light on protagonists in the Ruhr metropolis. The 40-plus projects each year were of unparalleled heterogeneity and their links to social and cultural structures in urban society were particularly impressive. Networking is of fundamental importance, especially in intercultural, diversity-advancing and anti-racist work. For those involved, the interaction and assurance that they are not alone with their experiences create a special New potentials for action 315 feeling of community. Exchanging positive examples and successes in cultural work in particular contributes to the motivation of all involved and leads to new perspectives for action in one’s own work. Recommendations for cultural-political action, which we as culture politicians must pay special attention to, arose from the numerous network meetings. In conclusion, we can only congratulate the whole team on these important and successful six years and give our thanks for the work they have done. It has made clear how essential intercultural work is and that it must be continued. Sineb El Masrar & Dietmar Osses 316 Make, show and network [or: Clear the stage, spotlight on, eyes and ears open!] On the counsel of Sineb El Masrar and Dietmar Osses, members of the Interkultur Ruhr advisory board Interkultur Ruhr. What appeared cumbersome, unclear and in need of explanation when it began in 2016 can now be looked back on as dazzling, diverse and lively. It was a real honour to support Interkultur Ruhr from the beginning as its advisory board. The dynamic, personable and creative demeanour of the curatorial team and their presentation floored us from the start. And the tempo! Amazing! What Johanna-Yasirra Kluhs and Fabian Saavedra-Lara managed to put together within often very limiting conditions remains impressive to this day. Both have dived deep into the cultural and social life of the Ruhr region using their experience, curiosity and ideas, and watched and listened attentively. They have dug up real treasures, networking them with each other and putting them centre stage. The composition of different cultural formats – simply brilliant! Interkultur Ruhr has made the region shine from the inside A new term must be found for this team’s work. Johanna and Fabian have operated as outstanding curators in the composition of the artistic programme. As explorers they unearthed many cultural treasures and rightly put the key players in the spotlight: on small and on large stages, on squares, in streets and parks – simply in the middle of where life happens. Make, show and network (…) 317 And as facilitators they promoted many smaller projects and initiatives that make big things happen with limited means. The Interkultur support funding is a blessing for the region. The projects that surprised us and which we see as great treasures for the Ruhr region: the Faţadă/Fassade exhibition, workshop and site of discourse; Schwätzken an der Ladentheke. Im Oberhausener Ossilädchen trifft sich Ost und West (Chat at the shop counter. East meets West in an Ossilädchen [shop selling East German goods] in Oberhausen); and the OFF THE RECORD listening sessions. A great mix, which finally made the complexity and creative potential of the city visible. And then there was the collection of family films from the “Ruhr melting pot” – both an archive and a showcase, which brought us closer to what is human from so many different perspectives. No taboos & topical discussions It was also important that minorities became visible and taboo themes found a space, for example, in the discussion Homosexualität – (k)ein Thema im Judentum, Christentum und im Islam? (Homosexuality – [not] an issue in Judaism, Christianity and Islam?) or in conversations about postcolonial perspectives in the Ruhr region. Artists always remained the focus, even those who may not always be the most obvious to a curatorial team. But this is precisely the skill that sets Johanna and Fabian apart. Many thanks! We are very thankful to them for this. Culture presented like this is a joy. Culture and joy multiply when shared with others. Interkultur created spaces and opportunities for this to happen. We wish and hope that this energetic, creative and critical spirit, the sense of discovery and invigoration, as well as the networking and facilitation, live on and remain part of Interkultur Ruhr well into the future. Imprint & Acknowledgements 318 Worauf wir uns beziehen können. What we can relate to. Ce à quoi nous pouvons nous rapporter. İlişkilendirebildiklerimiz üzerine. Aquilo a que podemos nos referir. A que nos podemos referir. So shaj te ljipara. Na što se možemo odnositi. Na što se možemo pozvati. ‫على ما يمكننا الرجوع إليه‬ Έχουμε σημεία αναφοράς Interkultur Ruhr 2016-2021 Edited by Johanna-Yasirra Kluhs, Aurora Rodonò, Fabian Saavedra-Lara, Nesrin Tanç for Interkultur Ruhr. With: Tareq Alaows, Marisa Álvarez, Tijen Atkaya, Princela Biyaa, Sandy Brede, Eva Busch, Fatima Çalışkan, Yasemin Çölgeçen, Rahim Darwisha, Guy Dermosessian, Abdou Diamé, Madhusree Dutta, Zekai Fenerci, Bridget Fonkeu, Lajos Gabor, Marny Garcia Mommertz, Ayşe Güleç, Amela Halilovic, Ina Holev, Ayşe Kalmaz, Georg Kentrup, Bengü Kocatürk-Schuster, Adem Köstereli, Aylin Kreckel, Fatih Kurçeren, Virginia Novarin, Tunay Önder, Yemi Ojo, Prasanna Oommen, Nedjo Osman, Miltiadis Oulios, Josué Partida, Erwin Rosenfelder, Ana Maria Sales Prado, Ella Steinmann, Veye Tatah, Alican Tazegül, Emmanuel Thethika, Ceren Türkmen, Wanja van Suntum, Christian Wagemann, Julia Wissert, Miriam Yosef, Milena Yolova Imprint & Acknowledgements 319 Head curators of Interkultur Ruhr and editors-in-chief: Johanna-Yasirra Kluhs, Fabian Saavedra-Lara Design: The Laboratory of Manuel Bürger Cover, titles: Manuel Bürger, Fatih Kurçeren, Parkwerk e.V. Print: Kerschoffset, Zagreb General editing & proofreading: Laura Strack Copy-editors: Jabbar Abdullah (Arabic), Mustafa Alendar (Bosnian), Raquel Alves (Portuguese), Beata Burakowska (Romani), Hakan Dogan (Turkish), Çiler Fırtına (Turkish), Good & Cheap Art Translators (English), Jess Oliveira (Portuguese), Richard Rubin (Spanish), Miltiadis Oulios (Greek) Translators: Tom Ashforth (English), Alida Bremer (Bosnian), Beata Burakowska (Romani), Hakan Doğan (Turkish), Çiler Fırtına (Turkish), Good & Cheap Art Translators (German), Yousef Hasan (Arabic), Jess Oliveira and Raquel Alves (Portuguese), Panajiotis Petropoulos (Greek), Fabian Saavedra-Lara (Spanish), Laura Strack (French), Mirjana and Klaus Wittmann (Serbo-Croat) Transcription: Maria Akingunsade, Johanna-Yasirra Kluhs, Emelyn Yábar Tito Photo credits (if not otherwise indicated): Afrodiasporic engagement in Hamm: Yes Afrika e.V. Other terms, but similar feelings: Eva Busch Finding other languages: Gigo Propaganda Taking home outside: Olga Felker, Fatih Kurçeren You set the tempo: Oliver Look Whenever we touch on the future, the past comes up: Parkwerk e.V. Can you imagine how much work it involves?: Thomas Eickholt Enduring the uncertainty: Roxana Rios Inverting the invisible: Franziska Götzen Fighting on: Romano Drom Hagen e.V. We saw ourselves as part of the solution: Patrick Ritter The goal was clear: Christian Wagemann Imprint & Acknowledgements 320 Danke. ‫شكرا‬. Merci. Thanks. Obrigado*a. Eυχαριστώ. Gracias. Teşekkürler. Hvala. Ov sasti*o: Leonie Arnold, Kai Behrens, Eva Busch, Sevgi Çıkrıkçı, Patric Daas, Hasiba Dzemajlji, Günfer Çölgeçen & Nilüfer Kemper, Eleftherios Efthimiadis, Stefanie Görtz, Evşen Hatam, Thomas Hensolt, Marija Karaklaijc, Jola Kozok, Nurten Kum, Golnar Mehboubi Nejati, Guido Meincke, Omar Mohamad, Miltiadis Oulios, Efthimios Paltoglu, Niko Petrakis, Stefanie Reichart, Maria Elena Saavedra Lara & Gustavo Toro Romero, Betty Schiel, Gürsoy & Yohan Tanç, Bergüzar & Nizamettin Taşkıran, Mustafa Zekirov A special thank you to all of the authors, interview partners, translators and photographers! Special thanks also to Regionalverband Ruhr as Interkultur Ruhr’s project sponsors and the Ministry for Culture and Science of the State of North Rhine-Westphalia. Legal notice: the articles contained in this book exclusively reflect the opinions and views of the respective authors and interview partners and are based on their own perceptions and experiences. The editors, project sponsor and publisher state expressly that they do not take ownership of published content that has not been created by them and cannot be responsible for the legitimacy of opinions or the accuracy of factual claims in texts written by third parties. Published by StrzeleckiBooks, Cologne Weißenburgstrasse 46 D-50670 Cologne www.strzelecki-books.com © 2021 StrzeleckiBooks, Cologne ISBN: 978-3-946770-89-3, 1st edition 2021 The German National Library lists this publication in the Deutsche Nationalbibliografie; detailed bibliographic data are available in the Internet at http://dnb.dnb.de σημεία αναφοράς İlişkilendirebildiklerimiz üzerine What we can relate to. Interkultur Ruhr 2016-2021