Chapter 388: An Afternoon Call from Bonn

Chapter 388 -33: An Afternoon Call from Bonn

Harviman looked at Werner, silent for a few seconds.

“I can’t say he’s a hero,” he said slowly. “Because he did work within the system, and he did profit from it. He’s not a pure idealist.”

“But I can’t call him a villain, either,” Harviman’s tone grew firm. “Because he did what he could to help us. He took risks to give us what we needed.”

“He’s a complex man,” Harviman said, looking at the judge. “A man who lived in the gray areas. In an era where black was white and white was black, perhaps gray was the color closest to the light.”

The words echoed through the courtroom.

Many people lowered their heads, lost in thought.

Rosenblum said, “Thank you. I have a second witness.”

The person who entered was a woman with short hair, dressed in a plain suit. She looked sharp and competent.

“Bettina Wegner,” she introduced herself. “Environmental activist.”

She was also a well-known figure in the East German dissident movement, having organized many environmental protests against the government’s pollution policies.

“Ms. Wegner,” Rosenblum asked, “do you know my client?”

“I do.” Bettina nodded. “He funded our environmental organization.”

“Can you elaborate?”

“In 1986, we wanted to organize an environmental exhibition in East Berlin to show the dangers of industrial pollution,” Bettina said. “But we lacked funds and had no contacts with environmental organizations in the West.”

“Mr. Betelich gave us ten thousand West German Marks and helped us get in touch with the Green Party and several environmental groups in West Germany.”

“The exhibition was a great success; over a thousand people attended. Although the government later shut it down by force, the impact had already spread.”

“Why did he help you?”

“I asked him,” Bettina said. “He said it was because he was also tired of the gray skies and polluted rivers.”

She looked at Werner, her eyes filled with complex emotions. “I don’t know if he genuinely meant it, or if it was just something to say. But at the very least, he did help us.”

Rosenblum then called two more dissidents to testify—the editor of an underground publication and the organizer of a peace movement. They both confirmed that Werner had helped them.

Then, Rosenblum said, “Your Honor, I have one more special witness. He is not an East German, but his testimony is crucial to this case.”

“Call the witness,” the judge said.

The door opened, and a man in his forties walked in. He wore a dark suit and had a serious expression.

“Please state your name,” the judge asked.

“Adam Michnik.”

Gasps of surprise erupted from the gallery.

Adam Michnik—a core member of Poland’s Solidarity Union and now an adviser to the new Polish Government. His appearance changed the entire atmosphere in the courtroom.

“Mr. Michnik,” Rosenblum said, walking up to him, “please tell the court what your relationship is with my client.”

Adam glanced at Werner, then turned to the judge.

“In 1986, the democratic movement in Poland was going through its most difficult period.” His German had a heavy Polish accent. “General Jaruzelski imposed martial law, and the Solidarity Union was forced underground. We were short on money, short on equipment, and lacked contact with the West.”

“It was right at that moment that someone came to me.”

“That person was Mr. Betelich.” Adam looked at Werner. “He said he could help us.”

The gallery fell silent.

“At first, I didn’t believe him,” Adam continued. “I thought he was a spy from East Germany or the Soviet Union. But he gave us something tangible—money.”

“How much?” Rosenblum asked.

“Fifty thousand US dollars the first time,” Adam said. “There were several more payments after that, totaling about two hundred thousand US dollars.”

Another stir went through the gallery. Two hundred thousand US dollars was a fortune in the 1980s.

“What did we use that money for?” Adam said. “To buy printing presses and print flyers; to buy radio equipment and broadcast across all of Poland; and to support the families of arrested workers.”

“He helped us with more than just money.” Adam looked at Werner, his eyes filled with complex emotions. “In 1987, several core members of the Solidarity Union were wanted by Jaruzelski’s government and were in grave danger. Mr. Betelich used his channels to get them to West Germany under the guise of a ‘political prisoner exchange.'”

“At that time, the East German Government was still supporting the Polish Government’s suppression of the Solidarity Union,” Adam’s voice rose. “Mr. Betelich risked being executed as a traitor to help us.”

Rosenblum turned to the judge. “Your Honor, my client’s support for Poland’s democracy movement was, in effect, helping the liberalization of all of Eastern Europe. Your Honor, I request that the court fully consider the defendant’s contributions to the Polish democracy movement when delivering its verdict. According to the Radbruch formula, when a person’s actions—while technically violating the laws of a particular regime—substantively promote human rights and justice, we should recognize those actions as having a supralegal justification.”

The judge was lost in thought.

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

The judge announced a ten-minute recess.

Stein walked out of the courtroom and lit a cigarette. His hands were shaking slightly.

He was going to lose this case. He knew it.

But he couldn’t accept it.

The phone rang.

“Attorney Stein?” It was an unfamiliar voice on the other end. “This is Hans Miller from the Federal Ministry of Justice.”

Stein’s heart clenched. “Mr. Miller.”

“Regarding the Betelich case you’re trying in Berlin,” Miller’s voice was calm, “the Ministry is paying close attention.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.” Miller paused. “Attorney Stein, you’re a very talented prosecutor. We all admire your sense of justice.”

Stein said nothing, waiting for him to continue.

“But,” Miller’s tone changed, “this case is very complicated. It’s not a simple matter of black and white.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Miller sighed, “if you dig too deep into this case, it could involve some… rather inconvenient matters.”

Stein’s heart sank.

“Before unification, West Germany and East Germany had many gray-area dealings,” Miller continued. “Trade, ransoming political prisoners, intelligence exchanges. If all of this were to be made public, it would be detrimental to the West German Government’s image.”

“Are you telling me to drop the charges?” There was anger in Stein’s voice.

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Miller’s tone was cautious. “I’m merely advising you to handle this case with discretion. Don’t blow it out of proportion.”

“What do you mean, ‘blow it out of proportion’?”

“For example, don’t look too deeply into Betelich’s Western bank accounts,” said Miller. “Those accounts might involve certain West German companies and officials. If you insist on digging further, you’ll cause a lot of trouble for a lot of people.”

Stein’s grip on the phone tightened.

“Mr. Miller, I’m a prosecutor. My duty is to uphold the law, not to clean up after politicians.”

“I understand your position.” Miller’s voice grew lower. “But Stein, you also need to consider the reality. The unification negotiations are still ongoing. At a time like this, we can’t create a scandal.”

“Besides,” Miller paused, “I hear the United States is also watching this case.”