SHARE
COPY LINK

OPINION AND ANALYSIS

OPINION: Germany is failing its Afghan helpers – out of fear of repeat of 2015 refugee crisis

Haunted by the spectre of a repeat of the 2015 refugee crisis, the German government is being disastrously slow in fulfilling its duty to Afghans who worked with it over the past 20 years, argues Jörg Luyken.

OPINION: Germany is failing its Afghan helpers - out of fear of repeat of 2015 refugee crisis
Soldiers controlling evacuees at Kabul airport. Photo: picture alliance/dpa/Bundeswehr | Stfw Schueller

Whatever your opinion is regarding the NATO mission in Afghanistan few people can doubt that the countries involved, of which Germany was one, have a moral obligation to the local staff who helped them in their attempts to build a democracy there over the past two decades.

It is no secret that the Taliban have targeted these people as “collaborators” and threatened to kill them for what they call their “betrayal of Islam”.

But Germany, a country that has built a reputation for itself in recent years as a bastion of humanitarianism, has for months put up bureaucratic roadblocks to make the process of escaping the country as difficult as possible.

Alone among the NATO members, Germany imposed a time limit on who it was prepared to help. Initially only Afghans who had worked with the German army, the development ministry, or foreign ministry over the past two years were entitled to receive a visa to travel to Germany.

Anyone who worked with the Bundeswehr as a translator or with the development ministry as a facilitator in 2018 or earlier was told that they didn’t qualify for protection. This cut-off date is absurdly arbitrary – it is clear that the Taliban would make no such distinction when deciding whether someone was a collaborator or not. They remember very well that they were removed from power in 2001 and not in 2018.

Only this Tuesday due to a public outcry did the foreign and development ministries confirm that people who’d worked for them from 2013 onwards would be flown out. (The defence ministry relaxed its rules a few weeks ago.)

But with the last airlift out of Taliban likely to take place on Friday, the race is now on for these people, who are hiding in terror from the Taliban, to make it to Kabul airport and escape.

‘Botched rescue’

According to Angela Merkel, some 4,600 people have so far been airlifted out of the country, although it is unclear how many of these are locals given that the evacuees come from 45 different countries. But the lucky few Afghans who have made it out have been put through far more trauma than was necessary.

When the Bundeswehr left its base at Mazar-a-Sharif in the north of Afghanistan ahead of schedule at the beginning of July it didn’t take its local staff with it. These people had to wait for their visas to be processed before arranging their own exit from the country.

Within weeks though Mazar-a-Sharif had fallen to the Taliban and local staff were forced to flee to Kabul were they were hidden in safe houses organized by a charity run by German soldiers called the Patenschaftsnetzwerk Afghanische Ortskräfte.

This Tuesday, the charity’s head, Marcus Grotian, complained that the German government had botched the rescue effort so badly that it was culpable of the crime of unterlassene Hilfeleistung (denial of assistance).

Gortian recounted how the Afghans whom his team were protecting were directed by German embassy to the UN run International Organization for Migration (IOM), which was supposed to sort out visas for them. The only problem: the IOM office in Kabul hadn’t been opened yet and would only reply by email.

Eventually the situation became so dangerous that the Patenschaftsnetzwerk Afghanische Ortskräfte had to tell the people at the safe houses to find cover elsewhere: the Taliban were getting too close.

Seething with anger, Grotian recounted how he had appealed to Chancellor Angela Merkel on four separate occasions to directly intervene, but was ignored each time.

“Many of us soldiers are experiencing trauma for a second time,” Grotian said. “But it is not the Taliban that is causing it, it is the actions of our own government.”

In another scandal, der Spiegel has reported that the Development Ministry has been offering local staff a “cash bonus” as an incentive for staying behind. One Afghan employee of the ministry described the offer as “devastating”, saying that “we don’t want money, we want security.”

Fearing a ‘pull effect’

Why, you might ask, is Germany, which is famous for its efforts to save Syrian refugees during the crisis of 2015, now so reluctant to help people whose lives are in direct danger because of their work supporting German diplomats and development workers?

Well, the shadow of 2015 still looms large over German politics.

In the autumn of that year Merkel’s government had only intended to offer refuge to a few thousand Syrians who were stranded in Hungary, where the far-right government wanted to have nothing to do with them.

But taking in those refugees set off a chain of events that the German government felt helpless to put a stop to. As word spread back through refugee routes from Syria, through Turkey and into Greece that Germany was taking in refugees, one of the largest movements of people in recent European history took place, with thousands more people arriving at the southern border every day.

READ MORE:

While most of these people were war refugees, economic migrants also saw an opportunity to make use of the open border. Meanwhile Islamist groups saw a chance to move their fighters into western Europe.

The German government stopped imposing European rules on refugee intake – the so-called Dublin regulations – and in practise it stopped evaluating the individual cases of asylum seekers coming from Syria.

In hindsight, this loss of control of the country’s borders and the decision to weaken rules on asylum recognition were the main catalyst for one the the most regrettable developments in post-war history: the fact that a far-right party now sits in the Bundestag.

Before the last federal election in 2017 the far-right Alternative for Germany (AfD) painted doom-laden scenarios of up to 8 million Syrians migrating to Germany. That this would ever come true was highly improbable, but the often chaotic events of the previous two years had made it seem at least plausible to many Germans.

Senior members of the German government are clearly terrified of a repeat of that scenario. Development Minister Gerd Müller warned Defence Minister Annegret Kramp-Karrenbauer in June against any attempts to widen Germany’s strict rules on which Afghans are to be given visas. 

“It should also be borne in mind that such a decision could have an enormous pull effect beyond the defined group,” he wrote, in clear reference to the events of 2015.

This stance is one of moral cowardice though. The Geneva Convention on Refugees specifically protects people who face persecution due to their political opinions. Surely there is no more clear cut case of this than the local staff who helped Germany in Afghanistan?

What happens next for Afghan employees of the German government is far from certain. Those who don’t make it onto planes will likely have to make a much more dangerous journey across land to the northern borders with Uzbekistan.

Individual soldiers whose lives they protected will try and help them. How much effort the German government puts into saving them remains to be seen.

Jörg Luyken is the creator of The German Review. You can sign up to his bi-weekly newsletter on German current affairs here.

Member comments

Log in here to leave a comment.
Become a Member to leave a comment.
For members

OPINION AND ANALYSIS

OPINION: Why Germans’ famed efficiency makes the country less efficient

Germans are famous for their love of efficiency - and impatience that comes with it. But this desire for getting things done as quickly as possible can backfire, whether at the supermarket or in national politics, writes Brian Melican.

OPINION: Why Germans' famed efficiency makes the country less efficient

A story about a new wave of “check-outs for chatting” caught my eye recently. In a country whose no-nonsense, “Move it or lose it, lady!” approach to supermarket till-staffing can reduce the uninitiated to tears, the idea of introducing a slow lane with a cashier who won’t sigh aggressively or bark at you for trying to strike up conversation is somewhere between quietly subversive and positively revolutionary – and got me thinking.

Why is it that German supermarket check-outs are so hectic in the first place?

READ ALSO: German supermarkets fight loneliness with slower check outs for chatting

If you talk to people here about it – other Germans, long-term foreign residents, and keen observers on shorter visits – you’ll hear a few theories.

One is that Germans tend to shop daily on the way home from work, and so place a higher premium on brisk service than countries where a weekly shop is more common; and it is indeed a well-researched fact that German supermarket shopping patterns are higher-frequency than in many comparable countries.

Bavarian supermarket

A sign at a now-famous supermarket in Bavaria advertises a special counter saying “Here you can have a chat”. Photo: picture alliance/dpa | Karl-Josef Hildenbrand

Another theory is that, in many parts of the country (such as Bavaria), supermarket opening hours are so short that there is no other way for everyone to get their shopping done than to keep things ticking along at a good old clip.

The most simple (and immediately plausible) explanation, of course, is that supermarkets like to keep both staffing and queuing to a minimum: short-staffing means lower costs, while shorter queues make for fewer abandoned trolleys.

German love of efficiency

Those in the know say that most store chains do indeed set average numbers of articles per minute which their cashiers are required to scan – and that this number is higher at certain discounters notorious for their hard-nosed attitude.

Beyond businesses’ penny-pinching, fast-lane tills are a demonstration of the broader German love of efficiency: after all, customers wouldn’t put up with being given the bum’s rush if there weren’t a cultural premium placed on smooth and speedy operations.

Then again, as many observers not yet blind to the oddness of Germany’s daily ‘Supermarket Sweep’ immediately notice, the race to get purchases over the till at the highest possible rate is wholly counter-productive: once scanned, the items pile up faster than even the best-organised couple can stow away, leaving an embarrassing, sweat-inducing lull – and then, while people in the queue roll their eyes and huff, a race to pay (usually in cash, natch’).

In a way, it’s similar to Germany’s famed autobahns, on which there is theoretically no speed limit and on which some drivers do indeed race ahead – into traffic jams often caused by excessive velocity.

Yes, it is a classic case of more haste, less speed. We think we’re doing something faster, but actually our impatience is proving counterproductive.

German impatience

This is, in my view, the crux of the issue: Germans are a hasty bunch. Indeed, research shows that we have less patience than comparable European populations – especially in retail situations. Yes, impatience is one of our defining national characteristics – and, as I pointed out during last summer’s rail meltdown, it is one of our enduring national tragedies that we are at once impatient and badly organised.

As well as at the tills and on the roads, you can observe German impatience in any queue (which we try to jump) and generally any other situation in which we are expected to wait.

Think back to early 2021, for instance, when the three-month UK-EU vaccine gap caused something approaching a national breakdown here, and the Health Minister was pressured into buying extra doses outside of the European framework.

This infuriated our neighbours and deprived developing countries of much-needed jabs – which, predictably, ended up arriving after the scheduled ones, leaving us with a glut of vaccines which, that very autumn, had to be destroyed.

A health worker prepares a syringe with the Comirnaty Covid-19 vaccine by Biontech-Pfizer. Photo: John MACDOUGALL / AFP

Now, you can see the same phenomenon with heating legislation: frustrated by the slow pace of change, Minister for Energy and the Economy Robert Habeck intended to force property owners to switch their heating systems to low-carbon alternatives within the next few years.

The fact that the supply of said alternatives is nowhere near sufficient – and that there are too few heating engineers to fit them – got lost in the haste…

The positive side of impatience

This example does, however, reveal one strongly positive side of our national impatience: if well- directed, it can create a sense of urgency about tackling thorny issues. Habeck is wrong to force the switch on an arbitrary timescale – but he is right to try and get things moving.

In most advanced economies, buildings are responsible for anything up to 40 percent of carbon emissions and, while major industrials have actually been cutting their CO2 output for decades now, the built environment has hardly seen any real improvements.

Ideally, a sensible compromise will be reached which sets out an ambitious direction of travel – and gets companies to start expanding capacity accordingly, upping output and increasing the number of systems which can be replaced later down the line. Less haste now, more speed later.

The same is true of our defence policy, which – after several directionless decades – is now being remodelled with impressive single-mindedness by a visibly impatient Boris Pistorius.

As for the check-outs for chatting, I’m not sure they’ll catch on. However counterproductive speed at the till may be, I just don’t see a large number of us being happy to sacrifice the illusion of rapidity so that a lonely old biddy can have a chinwag. Not that we are the heartless automatons that makes us sound like: Germany is actually a very chatty country.

It’s just that there’s a time and a place for it: at the weekly farmer’s markets, for instance, or at the bus stop. The latter is the ideal place to get Germans talking, by the way: just start with “About bloody time the bus got here, eh?” So langsam könnte der Bus ja kommen, wie ich finde…

READ ALSO: 7 places where you can actually make small talk with Germans

SHOW COMMENTS