"Ab Sofort"

...
Earlier that evening, just before 7 p.m., another man had shrugged. Gunter Schabowski, the portly spokesman for the ruling Politburo, installed just weeks earlier, stopped by the offices of the Communist Party boss, Egon Krenz, en route to his daily press briefing. "Anything to announce?" he asked casually. Krenz shuffled through the papers on his desk, then passed Schabowski a two-page memo. "Take this," he said with a grin. "It will do us a power of good." Schabowski scanned the memo while being driven from party headquarters. It was a short press release having to do with passports. From now on, every East German would have the right to have one—and to travel freely.

For a nation locked so long behind the Iron Curtain, this was tremendous news. At the press conference, there was a sudden hush as Schabowski read from the memo, then a hubbub of shouting reporters. From the back of the room, as the cameras rolled, broadcasting live to the nation, the fatal question rang out: "When does it take effect?"

Schabowski paused, looked up. "What?" he said, confused. The chorus of questions rang out again, seeking clarification. Schabowski scratched his head, mumbled to aides on either side, perched his glasses on the end of his nose, and scanned his notes, then once again he looked up … and shrugged. "Ab Sofort," he read aloud from what he saw written on the press release. Immediately. Without delay.

At this, the room—and the world—erupted. Schabowski, we now know, didn't appreciate the full significance of his announcement. On vacation when the decision was made, he was not aware that the plans were to take effect the next day, Nov. 10, subject to all sorts of fine print. Neither were East Germans. They knew only what they had heard on radio and television. They thought they were free to go. Sofort. Right now. By the hundreds of thousands they descended on the crossings to West Berlin. Overwhelmed, receiving no instructions, East German police acted on their own. Like Schabowski, like the border guard at Checkpoint Charlie, they shrugged.

Michael Meyer, Slate

Feliz día para todos.