Political Prisoners for Sale:
Jacob Young with Zofia Smardz in Bonn

Newsweek
August 29, 1983, p. 32

The ritual is always the same. East German police round up a group of political prisoners at the State Security prison in Karl-Marx-Stadt and march them into a bus. They drive to a deserted crossing along the border with West Germany. There, the guards leave, a new driver puts on West German license plates and the bus rolls on to Western soil. Within a short time, the passengers have been transformed from prisoners of conscience to free citizens -- ransomed by the government in Bonn. Every year, West Germany spends an average of $5 million to buy the freedom of some 1,000 East German political prisoners. The practice continued for two decades, though officials have been unwilling to talk about it. But now, with the Bonn government anxious to demonstrate the benefits of improved relations, prominent West German politicians are beginning to speak up. Two weeks ago Gerhard Reddemann, chairman of the Inter-German Relations Committee in the Bundestag, confirmed reports that through "special humanitarian efforts," Bonn recently bought as many as 350 East German political prisoners who will be arriving through September.

Each side has its reasons for carrying on the exchanges. West Germany's interest is humanitarian. East Germany's is economic. Payment for prisoners varies, but the East Germans are said to demand fees ranging from $11,500 to as much as $400,000. At Bonn's insistence, the payments are made in goods, in the hope that East German citizens will benefit from the transactions as well as the government. But the materials traded are still those that require hard currency to purchase, such as crude oil, medicines and chemical products. The haggling over goods and delivery dates is hard-bitten and pragmatic, says one West German official, "just like a normal deal between businessmen."

Incentive: That sort of businesslike attitude prompts human-rights activists to accuse Bonn of trafficking in human lives. "In principle, we are against the idea that any kind of conditions should be set for the release of political prisoners," says an Amnesty International spokesman in Bonn. But, explains Reddemann, "we have no other choice. When you're dealing with a dictatorship you can't pick your preferred methods of operation." Bonn also refutes charges that its payment for prisoners encourages the East Germans to lock up people. "We have no indications that the East Germans are imprisoning any more people because of the buyouts," says one Bonn official.

For those in prison in the East, the exchanges are often the only chance for freedom. That was certainly the case with Karl Winkler, a former East German antinuclear activist who was released from prison when Bonn bought him two years ago; he recently published a book about his early experiences titled "Made in GDR." Some recently ransomed prisoners report that young East German detainees have begun tattooing swastikas on their backs and chests hoping that flamboyant troublemakers will have a better chance of being added to the list of buyout candidates. Camp surgeons are evidently under orders to remove the tattoos, but the scars remain -- as does the hope of making a new life in the West.