The Berlin Wall and the Iron Curtain seemed to be permanent    fixtures of the political landscape of Europe after 1961. But    to everyones surprise, the Berlin Wall opened on November 9,    1989. This stunning event triggered a chain reaction throughout    Eastern Europe, accelerating a process that had begun a decade    earlier. Using a little poetic license, one could claim that    what took ten years in Poland took ten months in Hungary, ten    weeks in East Germany, ten days in Czechoslovakia, and ten    hours in Romania. A peaceful revolution of unprecedented    magnitude rippled across the continent throughout 1989 in a    political, moral, and spiritual earthquake that changed the    course of history. The rest of the Soviet Union would tumble    two years later in the aftershocks. Nearly 400 million people    were freed and scarcely a shot was fired. But why?  
    As it turns out, I was an eyewitness to much of this chapter of    history. I experienced East Germany when it was under grim,    deadly communist domination in the 1980s. I was an    international television correspondent in Europe reporting on    Germany and Russia, and stood at the Berlin Wall on the spot    where the first victim was killed trying to flee to freedom in    the West. I was there in Germany when the Berlin Wall opened up    in November 1989 to great jubilation, and I helped people who    fled communism start a new life in the West. After the    communist regime imploded in Moscow in 1991, I went to Russia    to join western efforts to build order in the ashes of the    collapsed empire.  
    Why did communism collapse in the peaceful revolution of    1989-91? If Herodotus were writing the history, he would give    several different reports from a variety of sources. In    1989-1991, most people reporting the events gave the accounts    listed below. I know these arguments well because I also made    them before doing my own research:  
    1) The economic system of the Soviet Union was breaking down,    leading to an implosion.  
    2) The military buildup of the United States and NATO countries    during the Cold War effectively backed down the Soviets,    bankrupting them.  
    3) The extended empire of the Soviets became too large to    govern effectively, and it collapsed from its excessive weight    and dysfunctionality.  
    4) It was the triumph of free markets over the command economy:    people in Eastern Europe rebelled because they wanted a Western    standard of living.  
    Some people subscribe to the great man theory of history,    claiming:  
    5) Mikhail Gorbachev did it, by allowing new freedoms, which    whetted the appetite for more freedoms, which got out of hand.  
    6) Ronald Reagan did it, by combining forces with Margaret    Thatcher.  
    7) Pope John Paul II did it.  
    Or there is the explanation that it was all a mistake:  
    8) The opening of the Berlin Wall was the result of a bungled    press conference Gnther Schabowski gave on Nov. 9, as he    attempted to explain the new travel policy of the very new East    German regime.  
    Or for those who contend great historic events are seldom, if    ever, monocausal, we have the answer:  
    9) All of the above.  
    The best answer is 9) because all of these factors played a    part. But none of these answers explain why tens of thousands    of ordinary people suddenly took to their streets in the fall    of 1989 to face down armed troops under orders to shoot them.    The economic argument falls short because people do not    typically risk their lives for a bigger refrigerator or a    vacation visa. Nor do any of these theories explain why this    revolution, unlike almost all others in history, remained    peaceful. Nearly 400 million people were freed, and scarcely a    shot was fired. That is definitely not normal. People    rose up in rebellion in East Germany in 1953, in Hungary and    Poland in 1956, and in Czechoslovakia in 1968. Each time, the    uprising was met with Soviet tanks and bullets, as the people    seeking freedom were beaten, imprisoned, or killed. These    quashed rebellions that ended in bloodshed make the success of    the peaceful revolution of 1989 even more astonishing.  
    I missed the most important part of the story when I was    reporting from Europe for American television throughout the    mid-80s. But I got a second chance after I got to know people    from communist countries by serving them. When the first wave    of 300,000 political refugees escaped from the Soviet Union in    the late summer of 1989, they surged into West Germany, where I    was living at the time. With the opening of the Berlin Wall in    November, people from all the East bloc countries flooded into    West Germany, far exceeding the capacity of the government or    the Red Cross to care for all of them.  
    It became clear in prayer that I was to go and serve these    refugees who had escaped from communism. So one friend and I    launched a small private initiative to try to help people    arriving near Cologne, who were in thirteen emergency shelters    throughout the city. We brought them blankets, coats, and food,    tutored their children, and helped parents find a job and a    place to live. And we listened. We heard hundreds of stories    from people who fled Poland, Hungary, Kazakhstan, East Germany,    and Czechoslovakia. Many of them had dodged bullets, while    carrying their children on their shoulders through the forests,    as they fled.  
    Several months later, with the same spiritual clarity, it    became clear to me in prayer that I was to go to the countries    the refugees had fled, to find men and women who had resisted    communism, and that I should write about their experiences. So    in blind obedience, and I do mean utterly blind, I went to    Poland, East Germany, Hungary, and later Russia. Eventually I    interviewed 150 people from throughout all the nations of the    former Soviet Union, to ask them why they had resisted    communism. I listened to people who had been imprisoned,    beaten, and tortured, because their convictions did not align    with communist ideology. I met the widow and children of    Alexander Men, the great Russian Orthodox priest called the    C.S. Lewis of Russia, who was murdered in 1990. These    remarkable people explained to me why they had resisted    communism with every fiber of their being.  
    Many of the political prisoners and leaders of the peaceful    revolution throughout the former Soviet Union told me that at    its core, the resistance to communism went beyond political,    economic, and military confrontation to its roots in a moral    and spiritual dimension. While certainly not all, or even very    many, people who resisted communism were religiously motivated,    Christians in significant positions of leadership throughout    the entire East Bloc were crucial in keeping this revolution    peaceful. Their moral authority had a disproportionate    influence on people around them.  
    The people I interviewed told me that the events of 1989 began    a decade earlier in Poland, when the newly elected Pope John    Paul II visited his homeland in the sunny summer of 1979. His    message was not a political one. Instead, he reminded his    countrymen that they were children of God with dignity, rights,    and duties that transcended the state. John Paul II reminded    the Polish people that their identity was not primarily    political, but spiritual. He rose above the political realm to    address the Permanent Things. Again and again, Pope John Paul    repeated a phrase that was to echo throughout his papacy: Be    not afraid! Millions of people who crowded the streets grew    stronger as they listened. He ignited their courage in such a    powerful way that it sent seismic shocks throughout not only    Poland, but all the neighboring countries as well. Through the    words of Pope John Paul II, people under the communist yoke    began to rediscover the source of Truth, reclaiming their    courage to give witness to it in their lives.  
    A handful of moral leaders emerged in Poland, Czechoslovakia,    Hungary, and East Germany who, over the coming years, would    develop small cells of civil society and a second culture.    Karol Wojtyla (before he became Pope John Paul II) was certain    that the culture was the most important realm to change, and    that a healthy culture was the fruit of human souls rooted in    faith. He spent his young years as an actor, playwright, and    poet, performing Polands traditional works to keep the culture    alive. As a young priest, he took kayak trips with young    couples to talk candidly with them about living their faith    vibrantly in a marriage and family. These couples were to    become lifelong friends of the future pontiff, while providing    him with authentic lifelong friendships with lay people whose    spirituality he understood and admired.  
    To live out the second culture, sometimes it was necessary to    keep it hidden below the surface. Its members in Poland founded    underground newspapers, wrote and performed plays, just as    Intellectuals organized a flying university to teach in    peoples homes, and launched new organizations to focus on    about civil liberties. Similar movements sprang up in    Czechoslovakia, Hungary, and East Germany, as well as the    Baltic countries. Artists painted and exhibited works of art in    traveling shows in private homes, while playwrights like Vaclav    Havel talked for hours over littered ashtrays and endless cups    of coffee. The goal shared by all of these various people was    life free of the communist constraints, free from the culture    of the lie, a life devoted to Truth, Beauty, and Goodness. The    work of the peaceful revolution was not primarily political in    its intention. Instead, the focus was on the pre-political    realm, the culture, the human soul and mind. The character that    was formed in these cells of civic order began a process of    transformation from the inside out in each person, and from the    bottom up in the culture in which they lived. They sought Truth    in a culture where everyone said something other than what they    meant as a matter of survival. Aleksander Solzhenitsyn and    Vaclav Havel said communism fostered the culture of the lie.    These two men spoke the truth, even if the cost was    incarceration. Their no was a response to a higher and more    compelling yes.  
    The Polish theologian Josef Tischner described    Solidarnocz as a huge forest of awakened    consciences. It was an apt metaphor for the entire peaceful    revolution that would awaken consciences and summon forth    courage across Eastern Europe over the next decade, building    cells of civil society and strengthening the character of    people with a willingness to stand erect, despite threats and    opposition. The leaders who emerged shared the conviction that    God exists, that the culture of the lie must end, and that    there are some things worth dying for.  
    The rise of communism came in the Soviet Union because, as    Alexander Solzhenitsyn said, men forgot God. The central    promise of communism was to build an earthly paradise through    human efforts, while denying the existence of God. Communism    was rooted in Rousseaus proposition that mans nature can be    changed by his material circumstances to bring about his    perfected state. Marx and Engels inhaled the Hegelian vapors of    three ascending ages, which were to bring about the perfected    state of man. Lenin and Stalin put steel behind the    intoxicating vision. If violence was necessary to bring down    the upper classes and abolish private property, so be it. The    gulag silenced voices of dissent, as did psychiatric prisons    and firing squads. In the end, the Soviets killed at least 62    million of their own citizens to quash all resistance. Stalin    alone is responsible for at least 40 million of those deaths.  
    As a former communist who disavowed his earlier convictions,    Whittaker Chambers explained: There were two faiths on trial    in the twentieth century: faith in God and faith in man. The    communist vision is the vision of man without God. Many of the    people whose faith was in God were exterminated, including the    40,000 priests in Russia who were killed between 1918 and    1940.[1] On a single night in October 1929, three hundred    political prisoners were executed in the Solovky camp, many of    them bishops who had contributed to the Solovky Memorandum,    which articulated their beliefs:  
      The Church recognizes spiritual principles of existence;      communism rejects them. The Church believes in the living      God, the Creator of the world, the leader of its life and      destinies; communism denies his existence. . . . Such a deep      contradiction in the very basis of their      Weltanshauungen precludes any intrinsic      approximation of reconciliation between the Church and state,      as there cannot be any between affirmation and negation      . . . because the very soul of the Church, the      condition of her existence and the sense of her being, is      that which is categorically denied by communism.[2]    
    While the first phase of the Russian Revolution killed the    countrys aristocracy, the next phase attempted to eradicate    the spiritual nobility. The Cheka, the predecessor of    the KGB, in a 1921 document spelled out its intentions to    corrupt the church from within, because the communists knew    that resistance fed by religious faith posed a genuine threat    to them.[3]  
    Citizens were imprisoned for owning books such as Alexander    Solzhenitsyns Gulag Archipelago, the possession of    which merited a one-year in prison sentence in East Germany. In    Russia, writing poetry that mentioned God, as in the poems of    Irina Ratushinskaya, resulted in seven years of imprisonment    that nearly killed her before she was released in a prisoner    exchange before the Reykjavik arms talks between President    Ronald Reagan and Mikhail Gorbachev. Nikolai Saburov cheerfully    went to prison in Russia for smuggling Bibles from the West and    printing copies on homemade samizdat (self-made)    presses made from parts of washing machines and bicycles. Each    time he was released from his three-year prison term, he    printed more Bibles, only to be arrested and imprisoned again.  
    Merely declining to swear allegiance to the communist party was    dangerous. A brilliant student of economics, Anatoly Rudenko,    was sent to a psychiatric prison after he refused to join    Komsomol, the communist youth organization, at two    universities. Anatoly would not swear allegiance to the    communist party because it was atheistic, and he had become a    Christian. By Soviet logic, he must have been insane because    he did not believe the communist ideology he had been taught in    their schools. Anatoly was arrested and put into a psychiatric    prison where perfectly sane people entered and were filled with    drugs that made them drool, roll imaginary balls with their    fingers, and hallucinate. Some were injected with a solution    that would instantly and painfully raise the body temperature    to 105 degrees, damaging brain tissue irrevocably. It was only    because the Baptist Union of the USA insisted on the release of    a fellow Baptist that Anatoly was spared the fate of the other    prisoners unraveling all around him.  
    In Leipzig, East Germany, in October, 1989, armed with nothing    but small candles and prayer, courageous people faced down    armed troops under orders to shoot them. Beginning seven years    earlier, Lutheran Pastor Christian Fhrer had invited people to    the Nikolaikirche for the Friedensgebete Monday    afternoon at five to pray for peaceful change in East Germany.    What began with a handful of people sometimes dwindled to one    or two, but Pastor Fhrer continued undeterred for the next    seven years. In 1989, the group began to swell, gaining    strength of hundreds in the spring, then thousands in the    summer, until the communist officials were apoplectic in    September. They asked each other How many people can we shoot    at once?  
    On October 9, 1989, tanks rolled into Leipzig, along with water    cannons, attack dogs, and several thousand soldiers and    military police in riot gear. The Leipzig newspaper had warned    the day before that any insurrection would be put down if    necessary, with a weapon in hand. Thousands of pints of blood    were flown into Leipzigs hospitals and surgeons were put on    alert to treat the expected shooting victims. Parents were    urged to pick up their young children from school early, to    avoid a bloodbath in the city. Despite these ominous    preparations, 70,000 ashen-faced people took to the streets on    that Monday. Leipzig threatened to erupt into civil war.    Hundreds of members of the communist party squeezed into the    pews to prevent legitimate protesters from being seated in the    Nikolaikirche. Outside the walls of the church, ashen-faced    people filled the streets for blocks in all directions. Despite    panicked warnings, Pastor Christian Fhrer began the service at    the stroke of five with the church packed to overflowing and    opened with the Beatitudes, Blessed are the peacemakers.  
    As the final benediction was given, Christian Fhrer says that    a palpable presence of the Holy Spirit descended on this    fearful mass of people, most of whom were not practicing    Christians. The pastor described it this way: The spirit of    Christ, the spirit of non-violence and renewal fell on the    masses, moved the people deeply and became a tangible force of    peace. It was like the Book of Acts when the Holy Spirit fell    on Cornelius and his household. This is something quite    remarkable because these people were mostly not Christians. And    yet the people behaved then as if they had grown up with the    Sermon on the Mount.[4]  
    In this spirit of peace and courage, the people grabbed each    others elbows and held small candles as they walked out of the    church. The power was contagious and what had been an amorphous    mass of frightened people became a purposeful phalanx walking    out of the church into the city. The young military draftees    outside nervously held their weapons, hoping they would not be    ordered to fire into the crowd, knowing that if they refused,    they themselves would be shot from behind. The demonstrators    looked the soldiers in the eye and began the march on the wide    street that ringed the center of Leipzig.  
    Nineteen-year-old Raphaela Russ remembers, With amazing    composure the mass began to move, past the curious onlookers    who hemmed the edges of the streets, past the mobilized    security forces, past the barking dogs in the narrow streets    and alleyways.[5] As they marched past tanks and water    cannons, some chanted keine Gewalt (no violence)    while others thwarted provocateurs planted by the    Stasi, encircling them to remove stones from their    hands. A human chain protected the Stasi building and    no one smashed even one window of their headquarters. Despite    justified frustration at forty years of repression, no one so    much as knocked the hat off a soldier. Although the troops had    live ammunition, not one of the 70,000 people demonstrating    provided provocation for the soldiers to open fire. At the end    of this very tense evening, the forces for peaceful change had    won. Christian Fhrer said, The soldiers were prepared for    everything except candles and prayer. He was astonished at the    outcome, saying We were just grateful for the role God let us    play in this amazing drama. It certainly was not the few    Christians among us. God wrote history that night.  
    After the television coverage of this extraordinary event,    demonstrations like the one in Leipzig spread to cities all    across East Germany. The East German communist party    unceremoniously dumped Erich Honecker as its standard bearer,    replacing him with Egon Krenz. Committees scrambled to meet the    demands of hundreds of thousands on the streets, who spoke    through the banners they carried. They wanted the freedom to    refuse military service with a weapon aimed at fellow Germans.    They wanted the freedom to travel, to speak freely, and to buy    goods from the West. And hundreds of thousands of them took to    the streets all over East Germany throughout October and early    November. The evening of November 9, Gnther Schabowski came    out of a meeting and read a statement about new policies for    granting visas to cross the wall, which journalists pounced on.    When does that take effect? one asked. Schabowski fumbled and    said he guessed it meant immediately. The journalists went into    a frenzy and immediately began broadcasting.  
    Anyone who heard the radio reports that any East German could    get a travel visa the same day ran out of their house in their    pajamas and headed for the Berlin Wall. Wild lines of Trabis,    the little unreliable cars made in East Germany, snaked up to    the border honking in a chaotic chorus. Hordes of people on    foot mobbed the cross-points, where the border guards were    overwhelmed and uncertain what to do. Their superiors didnt    believe what they were being told on the phone. More people    swarmed the gates. Finally the border guards just shoved their    caps back and lifted the barriers to let the tidal wave of    people pass through. Families that had been separated for forty    years ran to embrace each other, showered in champagne,    flowers, and tears. Young people scaled the wall and danced on    it. No one, I repeat no one, knew or even suspected that the    Berlin Wall would open then. The East German regime didnt even    intend to open it.  
    That is the natural explanation. Here is the supernatural one.    That same night, November 9th, people gathered at    the Nikolaikirche in Leipzig once again. This time it was a    silent march through the city to commemorate the    51st anniversary of Kristallnacht, the    night of violence against the Jews before World War II began.    As these Germans walked through Leipzig, they asked Gods    forgiveness for the violence the Nazis had committed against    the Jewish people. As they prayed and walked around the city of    Leipzig for the seventh time, the Berlin Wall opened    unexpectedly and the communist regime fell with a crash as    resounding as that of the walls of Jericho.  
    Throughout 1989, the people once dominated by the Soviets were    throwing off their shackles, daring to live as if they were    free. Poland had already held its first free elections in June,    while Hungary had literally snipped the barbed wire on the    border in May, asserting its independence from Moscow.    Czechoslovakia staged its fantastic Velvet Revolution later in    November, ejecting communist leaders with swift dispatch in    merely two weeks. Romanians toppled Ceausescu in December, in a    swift revolt that lasted only hours. Theirs was the only    violent chapter of the otherwise peaceful revolution of 1989.    In October, 1990, East and West Germany were reunited,    cementing the new relationship of sovereignty free from the    Russians. All the former Soviet satellites were exploring    alliances with the West.  
    Disappointed Soviet hardliners concluded Mr. Gorbachev had been    too soft, and they attempted a coup in Moscow in August of    1991. The natural explanation is that they failed to convince    enough others. The supernatural explanation is more    complicated. Here is what several people who were participants    in the resistance told me. Three Christians took a shipment of    Bibles they had received the previous night from America.    Leading them was Fr. Alexander Borisov, who had recently been    elected to the Moscow City Council, a man of proven character    who had been blocked from ordination for fifteen years because    he refused to share information about his congregation with the    KGB. Anatoly Rudenko, who had been released from the    psychiatric prison, was passing out Bibles to the tank drivers    sent to put down the demonstrations. He was joined by Shirinai    Dossova, a Muslim convert to Christianity, who went right up to    the tanks and pounded on the sides of them until a baffled    driver popped open the top of the tank in exasperation to say    What? She handed the tank driver a Bible and said, It says    here not to kill. Are you going to kill me? And she put    herself squarely in front of the tank and looked him in the    eye. Her courage overcame the tank drivers willingness to    fire. Another Christian dissident met them there. Alexander    Ogorodnikov, a Christian dissident who had been incarcerated    for eight and a half years in Soviet prisons, formed a human    chain around the Russian White House, where the beleaguered    parliament was locked in, expecting to be crushed by tanks and    bullets any moment. Alexander, Anatoly, Shirinai, and Fr.    Borisov mustered the courage to stand and resist the tanks and    military forces, inspiring others to join them. They stood    vigil, praying through the night. People were being baptized,    kneeling to pray. The members of the newly elected Russian    Parliament, the Duma, waited tensely inside the Russian White    House, defended only with a handful of pistols among them.    Those I interviewed told me they were certain that they would    be crushed by the military any moment. But as the night wore    on, a strangely opaque fog settled in, shrouding the    Parliaments building from visibility. The helicopters    intending to attack could not see to land. And at the same    time, the military personnel on the ground refused orders to    roll their tanks over the bodies of the human chain of private    citizens defending the Russian parliament. When the morning    finally dawned, much to everyones surprise, the forces of    peace had won this battle, too. Four people had been killed.    The choir from Fr. Boriss church sang to mourn their deaths    and celebrate the victory. He preached from a balcony above the    square.  
    After the failure of the attempted coup in Russia, the    aftershocks of the political and moral earthquake shattered the    remaining shell of the communist hierarchy. The desire for    freedom had been swelling in Ukraine and the Baltic countries    as well, drawing people to the streets of Estonia to sing    traditional songs from their pre-communist past in what came to    be called the Singing Revolution. Citizens of Latvia,    Lithuania, and Ukraine had all staged demonstrations by this    time, and there were no consequences for protesters. By    December, the remaining hull of the Soviet empire heaved,    groaned, and crashed. Aside from a few fossilized hardliners,    it seemed there were no more true believers in the utopia    communism had promised. Of course, the old communists just got    new business cards and started doing business with the West.    The difficulties in Russia since indicate that its people may    have entered their wilderness years, just as the Israelites    were forced to wander forty years in the desert to unlearn the    traits of slavery from Egypt.  
    The college students I teach now were all born after the Berlin    Wall fell. The collapse of communism in the Soviet Union was so    recent that most students have not covered that era in world    history. They do not know that the threat of nuclear war with    the Soviet Union was real. But considering the magnitude of the    communist menace, which dominated US and European foreign    policy for half a century, it is a dangerous blind spot when    students conclude today that communism is a good idea, as a    concept, as two blithely remarked to me not long ago. Many of    the people who lived under communist regimes would vehemently    disagree with them.  
    The bloodiest century ever proved that modern totalitarian    governments are utterly deadly killing machines. But big    numbers tend to wash over us with little impactmillions,    billions, whatever. Perhaps this will put the numbers in    perspective. Starting as far back as humans have kept records,    in 4000 BC, and tallying up to 1987, some 133 million people    were killed worldwide. But in one century, the 20th    century alone, 207.5 million people were killed, well beyond    all the people killed in all previous centuries together.[6]    But the truly stunning number is this: 169 million people    were killed by their own governments.[7] Let that sink in    for a moment. These people who died were ordinary citizens, not    soldiers fighting other soldiers in wars, but 169 million    victims of totalitarian regimes that systematically killed    their own people.[8]  
    Stalin alone was responsible for 42 million of those deaths,    making him the biggest killer of all time.  
    Solzhenitsyns Gulag Archipelago gives some of the    best inside reporting on Soviet prisons. There were executions    by firing squads, freezing isolated prison cells, beatings with    truncheons, water hoses, rapes, and mass graves. And to flesh    out the story, anyone can now check the massive records    compiled by the Stasi, Securitate, KGB, and the secret    police in every communist country. Nothing worked very well    under communism, except the secret police, who amassed detailed    information from neighbors, relatives, co-workers, and    informants in every neighborhood and organization. Just because    youre paranoid doesnt mean that someone isnt out to get you.  
    The bloodbath in Chinas Tiananmen Square in the summer of    1989, where tanks rolled and bullets hailed down on protesters,    was a grim reminder that there was nothing inevitable about    success in resisting communism. It almost always ends in    massive bloodshed. The uprisings in the Arab Spring toppled    leaders but failed to produce lasting order. Why was 1989 in    Eastern Europe different? I think the answer lies in the    response of the Solidarnoscpriest, Jerzy    Popieuszko, who was murdered in 1984 by Polish security    officials. They beat him to death, bound his body with chains,    and dragged his body to dump it into the Vistula River. Before    he died, this priest and martyr preached to his countrymen, We    must overcome evil with good.  
    No other response to the evil of communism could be sufficient.    But if we take this hard-won legacy so lightly that we do not    teach our own young people about these events that took place    in 1989, we are not worthy of the sacrifice of 169 million    innocent lives taken by totalitarianism. We in the West should    not be too self-congratulatory, Solzhenitsyn warned us, because    we are none too healthy ourselves. To the extent that the West    has lost the moral core necessary for self-governance, we are    at risk of losing everything. As one astute young East German    woman put it shortly after the Berlin Wall fell, We knew that    Marx was a false god. But we dont want to worship the golden    calf of the West, either. The danger we face in America is the    golden calf we have made for ourselves, which we worship in our    modern temples of consumerism. We, too, must overcome evil with    good. No other response will be adequate.  
    I only hope in moments of trial to remember the remarkable    courage and integrity of the unsung heroes whose faith    shattered communism. Their souls were luminous and as    uncompromising as diamonds.  
    This essaywas first published here in July    2019.  
    The Imaginative Conservativeapplies the principle of    appreciation to the discussion of culture and politics as we    approach dialogue with magnanimity rather than with mere    civility. Will you help us remain a refreshing oasis in the    increasingly contentious arena of modern discourse? Please    considerdonating    now.  
    Notes:  
    [1] Hill, KentThe Soviet Union on the Brink: An    Inside Look at Christianity and Glasnost, Multnomah    Press, 1991, 84.  
    [2] Quoted in The Soviet Union on the Brink, 76-77.  
    [3] Vyacheslav Polosin, The Eternal Slave of the Cheka,    Izvestiia, Jan. 22, 1992.  
    [4] Authors interview with Christian Fhrer in Leipzig Feb.    28, 1991.  
    [5] Raphaela Russ wenn es sein muss, mit der Waffe in der    Hand! Die Revolution der Kerzen: Christen in den    Umwlzungen der DDR, ed. Jrg Swoboda (Wuppertal: Oncken    Verlag, 1990) 144.  
    [6] These numbers are drawn from The Black Book of Communism,    Anne Applebaums Gulag, Alexander Solzhenitsyns    Gulag Archipelago,    and R.J. Rummels Freedom, Democracy, Peace; Power,    Democide, and War http://www.hawaii.edu/powerkills/20TH, which    aggregates all of these sources.  
    [7] Some estimates put this total at 262 million.  
    [8] These numbers are drawn from The Black Book of    Communism, Anne Applebaums Gulag, and Alexander    Solzhenitsyns Gulag Archipelago. R.J. Rummel at    Freedom, Democracy, Peace; Power, Democide, and War    http://www.hawaii.edu/powerkills/20TH    puts the number of killings by the Chinese in the    20th century at 76 million.  
    The featured image is a photograph of East and West Germans    converging at the newly created opening in the Berlin Wall    beside the Brandenburg Gate, taken on December 21, 1989,    courtesy of Wikimedia    Commons.  
Original post:
Why Did the Berlin Wall Fall? - The Imaginative Conservative