Beyond the döner kebab: Germany’s history with migration
Swathi Manivannan
CW: racism, xenophobia
Kebabs are an essential part of Turkish cuisine, and the döner in particular has been popularized since the 19th century. The döner was first introduced to Germany only in the late 60s by Turkish immigrants Kadir Nurman and Mehmet Aygun. Yet today, it is consumed even more than the more traditionally German Bratwurst and Currywurst, and Berlin is said to have even more shops selling döner than Istanbul. The döner has been truly integrated into German society, becoming an almost essential part of it.
A döner kebab in Berlin
Image: Swathi Manivannan
One could say that migrants are expected to be like the döner kebab: filling up essential roles (typically low wage work that is “undesired” by the local population), whilst also not standing out too much, adapting to the characteristics of the society they have entered. Migrants who fit this narrative are highlighted as exemplars to follow, and migrants who don’t fit this narrative are cast as scapegoats for any societal problems that arise.
Migrants are clearly essential for revitalising the ageing workforce in Germany, and migrant policies in post-war Germany have only reflected that. Today, Germany is the second most sought-after migration destination in the world and a fifth of the German population consists of those with immigrant backgrounds. Germans with migrant backgrounds who have integrated into German society have been highlighted as success stories, with the most recent example being the Turkish-German couple who developed the Pfizer/BioNTech COVID-19 vaccine.
Immigration to Germany was first encouraged through the Gastarbeiter (“guest worker”) scheme in light of the Wirtschaftswunder or “economic miracle” of the 50s and 60s. During this era, West Germany experienced rapid economic growth but at the same time, was facing a shortage of workers, resulting in the need for migrant workers from other countries. The Gastarbeiter policy in the 60s was thus implemented to recruit migrant workers only temporarily; in other words, these workers were expected to go back to their home countries after a period of time.
A Gastarbeiter working in the 1980s
Image: Wikimedia Commons
However, after the scheme formally ended, many of the former Gastarbeiter ended up settling in Germany with their families instead of going back to their home countries. Because of the intended nature of the scheme, this posed a problem for political leaders, who had not anticipated this outcome and therefore taken very few measures before this to integrate Gastarbeiter and their families into German society. Both Gastarbeiter and their East German counterparts, Vertragsarbeiter, had been assigned low-wage jobs and housed such that their interactions with the local Germans were restricted. This meant that when these migrant workers decided to settle instead, they faced great challenges integrating and fitting into German society. The Vertragsarbeiter were in an even more precarious situation, particularly after German reunification. Under reunified Germany, which had mostly adopted the system followed in West Germany, most Vertragsarbeiter faced a greater risk of repatriation because, unlike the Gastarbeiter, they were no longer recognised as legal immigrants. Several Vertragsarbeiter also faced more xenophobia in the aftermath of the fall of the Berlin Wall, as East Germany was already in decline and had lost its identity through the process of reunification.
It is also telling that it took Germany until 2005 to finally consider itself ein Einwanderungsland (country of immigration), decades after migrants had arrived through Gastarbeiter scheme and settled with their families in Germany. Since Angela Merkel’s announcement at the peak of the European migrant crisis in 2015 that Germany would take in one million refugees, far-right anti-immigration movements like Patriotische Europäer gegen die Islamisierung des Abendlandes (“Patriotic Europeans against the Islamisation of the Occident”, or PEGIDA for short) have been on the rise. And in the 2017 federal elections, the far-right party Alternative für Deutschland won the third-highest number of seats in the Bundestag, a sign that Germans were increasingly feeling resentment towards migrants. In light of all this, it is clear that on paper, Germany’s post-war history with migrants is painted as a rosy picture, but the reality is not as positive.
A PEGIDA demonstration
Image: Wikimedia Commons
The need for integration has, however, been emphasized in recent years. In particular, after the peak of the European migrant crisis, a lot more courses and resources have been implemented to enable refugees and migrants to learn German and adapt to German society more quickly. Nevertheless, integration into German society still remains a huge challenge, with people of certain migration backgrounds struggling more to feel a sense of belonging to Germany. Most Germans expect immigrants to integrate by assimilating into deutsche Leitkultur, (mainstream German culture) often at the cost of losing their traditions. For white immigrants of (western) European backgrounds, assimilating into German society is generally easier due to similarities in practices and traditions, and the ability to “pass” as a “native German”. On the other hand, assimilation is a lot harder for immigrants of colour, particularly those from Middle Eastern and Asian countries, who want to integrate into German society but not at the cost of losing their traditions. For migrants — refugees in particular — practicing their traditions is one of the only few ways they can hold on to their roots and their homeland. That they are expected to no longer follow, or even abandon, these traditions can be a point of frustration, and this need for assimilation only makes it even harder for migrants to feel welcomed and accepted as part of German society. This has led to a general rise in racial discrimination and Islamophobia. In cities like Berlin, where there is a larger migrant population, ethnic enclaves have formed; migrants feel more accepted in these safe spaces within a foreign land, but it is hard for one to move out of these enclaves and climb up the socioeconomic ladder. Oftentimes, ethnic enclaves tend to be less well-funded and considered “undesirable”, and the fact that such enclaves still exist has clearly gone against the direction of integration.
As the population of Germans from migrant backgrounds has increased, said Germans have also been opening up more about their experiences growing up as ethnic minorities and struggling to integrate into German society. In her memoir, I was told to come alone, the German-Arab journalist Souad Mekhennet shares her experiences documenting how Islamophobia has contributed to the rise of Islamic extremism in the West. Mekhennet also sheds light on the discrimination she faced growing up in West Germany as the daughter of Gastarbeiter as well as when she herself began working. Last year, Tagesschau journalist Alice Hasters published her best-selling autobiography, Was weiße Menschen nicht über Rassismus hören wollen aber wissen sollten (“What white people don’t want to hear, but should still know, about racism”), shedding light on the racism she faced as a Black person in Germany. Political geographer Sinthujan Varatharajah, who was born to Eelam Tamil refugees in a refugee camp in Bavaria, has written essays documenting the struggles of Eelam Tamils who fled to East Berlin and made the perilous journey into West Germany during the Sri Lankan Civil War in the 80s. And in recent months, the killing of George Floyd as a result of police brutality has also led to a stronger Black Lives Matter movement in Germany, where police brutality and disproportionate incarceration of people of colour have been scrutinised.
The truth is, Germany’s relationship with migrants and refugees is complicated. Yes, post-war Germany has had a history of pro-immigration policies, and in recent years, it has probably been one of the most welcoming countries in Europe and the West. But the lack of acceptance migrants have felt — due to the temporariness of these policies and the insistence on assimilation, rather than integration — has instead led to increased tensions and distrust between local Germans and migrant communities.
In a time where far-right movements have seen a surge in popularity, particularly in Europe, it is time for Germans to start wholeheartedly accepting migrants for who they are and to willingly accommodate diverse traditions and customs instead of stifling them in the name of assimilation, so that history does not repeat itself. The döner kebab has become so integral to German society not only because of its portability and deliciousness, but also because Germans have embraced it for what it is. This is how Germany should view and accept migrants as well.