I'm a Profiteer in Cold War Germany

Chapter 293: Chapter 76: Ublis Steps Down

Werner watched Brandt kneel on the cold stone steps, his face devoid of expression.

He wasn’t moved by this gesture, nor did he care to consider if it was political grandstanding. He was calculating the political costs and benefits of this single act.

’What did Brandt gain from this one kneel?’

First, a complete reversal in the moral dimension.

Before 1970, the Soviet Union and East Germany had always occupied the moral high ground in their propaganda.

They claimed East Germany was the heir to the "anti-fascist" cause, while West Germany was a hotbed of "Nazi remnants," revanchists wanting to reclaim territory lost after the war.

Every Warsaw Pact military exercise, every time Soviet tanks rolled into an Eastern European country, Moscow would use "guarding against West German revanchism" as an excuse.

But Brandt’s kneeling shattered this logic.

When the Chancellor of West Germany—a man who had personally participated in the anti-Nazi underground resistance—knelt before the victims in Poland, he proved to the world that West Germany had completed a deep, spiritual repentance.

This made it impossible for the Soviet Union to continue using "guarding against a Nazi resurgence in West Germany" as a pretext for its long-term military presence and oppressive rule in Eastern Europe.

From that moment on, the moral high ground had changed hands.

On the same day as the genuflection, West Germany and Poland signed the Treaty of Warsaw, formally recognizing the Oder-Neisse River line.

Before this, West Germany had officially claimed it was "occupied German territory," which made Poland and the Soviet Union deeply uneasy, fearing the outbreak of a third world war.

But afterward, West Germany acknowledged the post-World War II territorial borders.

It was as if West Germany had voluntarily disarmed itself as the "avenger." The powder keg of the Cold War had been moved from the heart of Europe.

Werner took out his cigarette case and lit a cigarette.

’That old fox Brandt understands the essence of the Cold War better than any East German politician. It’s not about who has more tanks, but who is better at winning hearts and minds.’

This act of kneeling also paved the way for détente.

Détente wasn’t achieved with missiles, but with this kind of subtle moral offensive and economic penetration.

Brandt’s kneel earned the initial trust of the Soviet Union and Eastern Europe toward West Germany, laying the groundwork for the later Helsinki Accords and the Basic Treaty between the two Germanys.

Finally, and most fatally—this act would slowly hollow out the legitimacy of East Germany’s existence.

’If West Germany becomes the "good guy," on what grounds can East Germany claim to be the "legitimate Germany"?’

’If West Germany wins over Eastern Europe with Marks and technology, what will East Germany have left to prove its own necessity?’

Werner flicked the ash from his cigarette, his gaze growing profound.

’East Germany’s reaction is going to be interesting.’

Werner remembered that, historically, East Germany had subsequently introduced a "demarcation" policy, taking a harsher stance against Western ideological infiltration.

Business is business, but politically, they had to be tougher.

This was East Germany’s paradox—on one hand, reaching out for West Germany’s money, and on the other, desperately trying to prove they were not on the same path.

"Let’s go," Jan said, walking over and patting his shoulder. "The ceremony is over."

Werner nodded and followed Jan back.

After a few steps, he suddenly turned to look back at the monument.

"Jan," Werner asked, "what do you think Brandt’s kneel is worth?"

Jan froze for a moment, then gave a wry smile. "At least a reduction in interest on one billion US Dollars of foreign debt."

Werner smiled. "I think it’s worth more than that."

He knew that Brandt’s kneel had earned not just Poland’s forgiveness, but a license for the entire Western bloc to economically penetrate Eastern Europe.

In the coming years, West German Marks would flood into Eastern Europe like a tidal wave, submerging these teetering socialist regimes.

And East Germany, the country caught in the middle, would be slowly eroded by this tide.

**********

「Late that night」

Werner returned to his hotel and made an encrypted call.

"It’s me."

Anna’s voice came from the other end. "How’s Warsaw?"

"The deal is done," Werner said, leaning against the headboard and lighting a cigarette. "Poland has agreed to act as a transit point, so we can use them to break the Baltic Union’s blockade. And there’s an unexpected bonus—we can use the internal trade agreement between the Two Germanys to reverse-ship goods and profit from the tariff differences."

"Sounds good," Anna said. "Anything else?"

"I saw Brandt kneel today," Werner said, exhaling a cloud of smoke.

The other end of the line was silent for a few seconds. "What’s your take on it?"

"I think it’s a turning point," Werner said. "Brandt’s kneel has earned West Germany a license to enter Eastern Europe. The moral high ground has changed hands. In the next few years, West Germany will use the Mark and its technology to slowly infiltrate Eastern Europe, including East Germany."

"You’re right. The Stasi are already discussing countermeasures internally. Ublis’s people are in a panic, thinking this is West Germany’s ’sugar-coated bullet.’ They’re preparing to implement a stricter ’demarcation’ policy—economically, they’ll continue doing business with West Germany, but ideologically, they’ll tighten controls to prevent the infiltration of Western thought."

"Business is business, but we have to prove we’re not on the same path as West Germany." Werner sneered, "Isn’t that just deluding ourselves?"

"But that’s the choice East Germany has made," Anna said. "They have no other way. If they don’t do business with West Germany, the economy won’t hold up. But if they do, they’re afraid of being infiltrated. So they have to take the money with one hand and tighten controls with the other."

"Werner, be careful," Anna continued. "Von Brown has been watching you recently. He thinks you have too much power in Koko and is looking for a chance to knock you down a peg."

Werner frowned. "How does he plan to do that?"

"I don’t know, but you’d better be prepared," Anna said. "I’ll keep an eye on his movements and let you know as soon as I have news."

"Alright." Werner stubbed out his cigarette. "I’m coming back to Berlin tomorrow."

"Stay safe," Anna said. "I’ll be waiting for you."

After hanging up, Werner walked to the window and looked out at the street scene of a Warsaw winter night. In the distance, the sound of church bells rang out, muffled and prolonged.

He knew that what he had witnessed today was not just a political event, but a turning point in the landscape of the Cold War in Europe.

And he, Werner Betelich, a Transmigrator, the second-in-command of East Germany’s Koko, a king of the Black Market, was standing at this very turning point, ready to seize the opportunity history had given him.

The lines for the triangular trade between Poland, East Germany, and West Germany had been drawn. The channels for smuggling technology had been opened. The path for tax evasion through reverse operations had been designed. Now, it was time to lay the groundwork for the future.

He lit his last cigarette and gazed out at the Warsaw night.

This city had been razed to the ground in World War II, painstakingly rebuilt after the war, and was now suffocating under the weight of foreign debt.

History was just that ironic.

The Poles thought they had escaped the Nazis, only to be ruled by the Soviet Union. They thought they could grow strong and prosperous with the Soviet Union’s help, only to end up drowning in debt. They thought they could get back on their feet with loans from West Germany, but it was just jumping from one trap into another.

*************

「May 3, 1971. East Berlin. The State Council Building of the German Democratic Republic.」

Werner stood in the parking lot outside the building, watching as one black Volga sedan after another drove in.

Today was the plenary session of the Central Committee of the United Socialist Party, and all the important figures would be present.

"Nervous?" Gunter asked, getting out of the car next to them and offering Werner a cigarette.

"Not at all." Werner took the cigarette and lit it. "Everything that needed to be done has been done."

Gunter smiled and said no more, simply patting Werner’s shoulder. "Let’s go. Time for the show."

The two of them walked into the building.

The conference hall was already full, the air thick with the smell of tobacco and tension.

Werner found a seat near the back and looked around.

The front rows were occupied by the party’s top brass—Anger, Mitke, Axel, Stoff. Their expressions were grave, and they occasionally spoke to each other in low voices. Further back were the heads of various departments and regional secretaries, each with a look of extreme caution on their face.

Ublis sat on the dais, his face ashen.

This seventy-eight-year-old man had ruled East Germany for over twenty years. Now, he was finally about to step down.

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