- Oct 3, 2018
- 2,945
The pulse of Berlin, a city at the crossroads of history and contemporary dynamism, quickened with the anticipation of an election which may prove to be the most consequential in Germany's history. The memories of division, foreign occupation, and a destroyed Germany rang across the city in a symphony of paradoxes. Perhaps no more contrasted than in Berlin. The city had seen near continuous anti-government protests which began to wean. In the political scene it seemed that the far-right had found the perfect foreign crisis to propel themselves into a supra majority.
The snap elections were first feared by the opposition. Using all legal tools available to them Posters adorned with the faces of candidates plastered on lamp posts and billboards adorned the streets, standing as silent heralds of the electoral fervor gripping the city. As the clock continued to chime, and the lines thinning around elections signaling the time for voting closing soon. Yet in the suburbs of Berlin the hum of activity intensified around polling stations as citizens tried their hardest to vote.
It was in this suburb, a stronghold for the Social Democrats, that votes were being made by workers just finishing their late shifts. Many of the polls across the country had already withered quietly and laid to rest. Amidst the conducting of votes in the polling station, the rumors were quickly spreading across Germany that the National Democrats had lost...and lost badly. Most of the rumors were spread by online bots on social media sites which began spreading news that the deep state was using the illegal immigrants to steal the election.
The warmth of the city skyline could not fool anyone that a cold storm was brewing around Germany. In the quiet solitude of her official residence, lit dimly by the warm yellow lights casting on the burgundy walls, the weight of the election results bore down on Chancellor Schreiber like an insurmountable burden. As her electoral staff were actively watching the elections in the NdKP headquarters, Schreiber left knowing the reality of the situation she faced. As she roamed the offices of the chancellory in circles, adorned with symbols of Germany's struggle for self-governance, now seemed to close in on her, its walls echoing the hushed tones of despair. It's rich burgundy wood seemly coming closer and closer as the clack from the clock ticked and ticked.
Returning to the rocking chair that overlooked the window which gazed into Berlin, Schreiber took another look outside, the feelings of defeat gripped her body like a plague slowly eating her soul. Arrogance, Ego...what was it...she thought...what made her call these elections...what made her do all this. Overlooking the city which was adorned with lights, the glow which radiated off the city was no sign of consolation. The election had not unfolded as she had envisioned; the once jubilant victory speeches replaced by a deafening silence that enveloped the room.
This was not just a defeat she thought, it was the end of Germany's true self-governance, she had no doubt that her successors would like prostitutes sell out the fatherland. Like leeches they would eat it from within as it withered away. She had worked hard for this...she had slaved away for years...the party had grown...its vision enticing...and now...now it was all gone. Her political aspirations fading away just as the sun had over the Berlin skies. The weight of responsibility settled on her shoulders realizing her political future was over...she could be an opposition leader...hell...she could never be an anything after this. The office, normally buzzing with the urgency of state affairs, remained silent, amplifying the hollowness of the room. The realization that her party had not only lost the election but also its majority, only increased the anguish for Schreiber.
In this private moment of despair, Schreiber stood alone, her silhouette flickered behind her, in the dimly lit study of the chancellor's official residence. The air was thick in her office. Amidst the silence, broken only by the distant hum as Schreiber hummed the tunes of her favorite song. Schreiber reached into the drawer of her ornate desk. As she pulled out a rustled paper, the paper's edges were worn. As she took out her black ink pen, she wrote onto the paper. The chancellor's hands trembled imperceptibly as she folded the paper and placed it back into the drawer.
As the city embraced the cool embrace of the night, the well lit ambiance of the outside of the poll station began to shudder. The door swung open with a creak, allowing a group of men to step inside. Their entrance sent a subtle shiver through the air, as the atmosphere within the establishment suddenly shifted. Their black clothes, bald heads...and goatee only spelt trouble.
Dark, brooding eyes surveyed the room, calculating and vigilant. Each step resonated with a quiet confidence, echoing in the hushed murmurs of as the poll staff helped voters get their votes in. The staff looked at these new arrivals and felt a short shudder. As one lady spoke in Turkish to a man, helping to explain the process to him one of the men shouted profusely. "Speak German! This is Germany not Shitistan." The sudden and thunderous shouting pierced the hall, shattering the peace of the electoral process casted a hush in the room as all eyes turned towards the source of the eruption.
"The voting should end soon...why are you letting these people vote. Where are there IDs!" The men shouted. One of them moving rapidly to the voter and grabbing him. "Are you even German you Mutt?!" He said, causing one of the electoral staffers to rush and push him away. "That is not your right. Out of here now! This is illegal what you are doing. Go. Now!" He shouted as he separated the two men. "What we are doing? No. It is you that is conducting a sham election here. You are the traitors."
Outside, clad in nationalist insignias and waving party flags, protests came and voiced their grievances with increasing intensity as the poll station remained open close to 6 pm. As the atmosphere thickened the men who had just caused the ruckus looked at the others. "Hear that." One of them said. "That is the sound of the people." Quickly some of those who had come to vote would try to leave. But as they left outside they were beat by the crowd, accused of being illegal migrants and voting for the SDP. Others inside defiantly voted, not wishing to allow this nazism to ever grab hold of Germany ever again. Inside, one woman would quickly call the police and notify them. Things were quickly getting out of hand.
[Police Operator]: "This is 110, what is your emergency?"
[Ayse Killiç]: "This is Polling Station 78 we have an active situation send help please." Chanting heard in the background.
[Police Operator]: "Polling Station 78, what is the situation please advise."
[Ayse Killiç]: "Please just com..." In the background. "Turn off that phone you whore!" The line went silent.