Last year I was eflirting with a guy who dropped Der Baader Meinhof Komplex into conversation so many times that I realised that he wasn't cool and was, in fact, a tryhard. I went off him before we went on our date. Then we went on a date and he also went off me. He was one of those petite boys and very intellectual. Took life very seriously while thinking he was very laid back. I then relentlessly took the piss out of him. Lethal combo. Anyway, all that's irrelevant. The only reason I thought of him is that I recently, finally, got around to seeing Der Baader Meinhof Komplex the other night, having had a Last of the Mohicans about it since it came out in cinemas.
And I can confirm that the film was really good - well directed, not too long, well acted, plausible and compelling. I learned a lot from watching it - 1970s Germany isn't a time:place ratio I know much about [NB the clever way that phrase suggests that there are other time periods in German history about which I am a PhD-level expert?] - and what really struck me was how much things have changed, seemingly for the worse. These young people had grown up in the shadow of WWII. Prominent Nazis were still in power in their country. And they were ashamed at the role their government was playing in Vietnam. So, like the Parisians, they protested. I absolutely categorically do not condone any sort of violence. I am not interested in any movement that uses terrorism to promote its message. But I was profoundly ashamed of the complete lack of comparable vehemence among young people today.
Perhaps the film was unrepresentative. Perhaps there weren't really thousands of young Germans earnestly discussing world politics and then risking their lives and their criminal records by getting involved in street protests and underground movements. But, in comparison, I can't think of a single person I know who has ever really put themselves out for the state of the world. I mean, I know people who've done voluntary work. And people who've done paid work for good organisations such as charities, organisations that can make a difference. But really, no one I know (as far as I know) genuinely puts themselves out, Big Time, for the poor, the weak, the oppressed, just because it Has To Be Done. They'll do it because it's rewarding to volunteer for the Samaritans, or because helping set up a newspaper in Ghana is interesting and good for their CV, or because being a teaching assistant in a state school makes them feel better about themselves than it would to be a far-better-paid teacher in a private school. All these things are fine - they're even, in fact, Fantastic, given the comparative level of commitment shown by many of their peers. Certainly, something is a darn sight better than nothing.
But back there, in the Seventies, it seemed to be the norm to make serious, fundamental compromises to help those in need. Is that an accurate impression? I have no idea. I was a foetus. But I can speak about the now. And today, it is as though the towering majority spend the majority of their time engaged in an endless struggle to get their own shit sorted to a quasi-fictional, certainly rarely-attained point when they are finally happy to start giving up their free time or their salary potential to help others. A reflection on the perfectionism and self-obsession of our society, I'm sure. And I am certainly not any different. It's just a shame, is all. There is still no shortage of absolutely horrific things going on around the world and the only thing we ever manage to do is go on the occasional march around London or sign online petitions, the singularly least useful thing on the planet after Gordon Brown's 2010 election acceptance speech. Just wish we were all a bit less selfish. Starting with other people, of course. Like the whole not-flying trip. I'll join in when it seems to be making a difference.
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