What If the Berlin Wall Had Not Fallen in 1989?

[lordroel]

What If the Berlin Wall Had Not Fallen in 1989?

Coming from All About History comes the article called What If the Berlin Wall Had Not Fallen in 1989?

On Nov. 9, 1989, the barrier between East and West Berlin — and the real concrete structure symbolising the "Iron Curtain" of the Cold War — was brought crashing down. The fall of the Berlin Wall came to symbolize the collapse of the Soviet Union, signaling the end of a tense and often perilous period in world history that had existed since the end of the Second World War.

But what if the wall had never fallen? Author and historian Frederick Taylor is an expert in modern German history and has written a history of how the wall was constructed, extended and how the border was enforced for nearly 30 years. Here he shares his thoughts on what might have transpired if the wall had remained standing.



Q: What would have happened if the Berlin Wall had never collapsed?

Basically, you would have had something not dissimilar to North Korea. The only way it would have worked is through massive repression. I think for the wall not to have fallen, it would have, first of all, meant that we would have experienced a different Eastern Bloc than the one we had in the 1980s. They would have had to stop the reforms, Gorbachev particularly, and if that had taken place it would mean that the Cold War would have continued.

Q: Can you envision a scenario where the Berlin Wall is still standing and East Germany still exists as a separate country?

It is very difficult to imagine this but, theoretically, I suppose they could have cracked down on dissent. There are a few reasons behind the fall of the Berlin Wall. The first, and most simple, is that the East German economy simply did not work. They had very few natural resources and terrible problems with inefficiency. Then, moving into the 1970s and 1980s, the Russians had stopped selling the East Germans cheap oil. This caused more economic problems.

There are pictures of East German shops from the 1960s and 1970s, and then the 1980s; they tried to make it look as if everything was wonderful, but there was not much to buy except a few turnips.

Another thing that needs to be established is that by the 1970s they were also being loaned a lot of money from the West Germans, which they became very dependent on. Then, of course, there is the Helsinki Accords, which the East cynically signed up to — but they could not really offer the freedoms that they had just promised.

Nevertheless, they wanted the kudos of seeming forward thinking and freedom loving, albeit without paying any of the costs for that. Inevitably, though, over time, there were some brave people in East Germany who demanded the freedoms of the Helsinki Accords and, unless the authorities started to crack down on them, returning them to a Stalinist regime, it is difficult to see how the communists could have stayed in power.

Q: If they did announce a state of emergency, how would the wall have evolved?

Well it is interesting because the East Germans were actually quite good at basic electronics. They were skilled at putting together cheaper versions of Western electronics and they had a plan to build a high-tech Berlin Wall. Moving into the 1990s and the millennium, it would have all kinds of alarms so that you wouldn’t need armed guards. You would basically have an electronic surveillance system. However, while that was the goal, I don’t think they had the financial or logistical ability to achieve that.

Q: If this high-tech version of the Berlin Wall had come into practice, for how much longer would East Germany have lasted?

No more than a few years after 1989. The huge sums they would need to spend in order to keep their new high-tech wall going would, I think, lead to the end in about 1995.

Q: How would West Germany have benefited, if at all, from the continuation of East Germany?

In some ways it might have benefited West Germany to keep the East in business, because it would result in more cheap labour. East Germany, from the 1960s onwards, was a place where Western manufacturers had their work done cheap. In West Germany, back when I lived there, you could get 24-hour film development done straight from your camera back in the days when you delivered it to a chemist. But they would actually ship it over the border to East Germany and ship it back again. That was true of textiles and other businesses.

So, if I can imagine an East Germany, with this high-tech Berlin Wall still intact, I think it would be one that had basically become an economic colony of West Germany. It would have reestablished a Stalinist regime to keep everybody quiet. The selling of political prisoners to the West was also an enormously profitable trade for the East, so that would probably have continued. In fact, there were rumours that they were arresting people just so they could make some income from selling them back.

Q: Let’s say the Berlin Wall falls, as it did in 1989, but the majority of East Germans want to remain part of a separate state. Is this imaginable?

A few idealists at the time did actually want to try a third way — a liberal socialist state of sorts. But honestly, the only reason that East Germany could have, and perhaps should have, survived for a few more years was for the economy. When unification did happen, it was a bit of an economic car crash.

All of these totally uncompetitive East German businesses were faced with the full force of competition from the West, as well as these carpet-bagging yuppies that went straight into East Berlin, in particular, and looked for profit.

So, I think a few years of adjustment, with some economic advantages and privileges and a loose political confederation, before total reunification, would have been a softer landing for most people. It was pretty bad for a lot of East Germans when the wall came down. East Germany was horribly uncompetitive. But the West Germans were already bailing them out before the border fell, and I suppose when you are paying somebody else’s bills you demand power over them.

So reunification, in light of that, had to come from the most practical economic solution. But had there been some way to have a two-tier system, so that the East could adjust to the new economics, I think it would certainly have helped.

[stevep]

   Lordroel

   Very interesting although I notice he is only talking about E Germany and the assorted social and political problems will also be occurring in the other nations in the eastern bloc, being worse in a number of cases I suspect. If the wall doesn't come down because of greater repression things are going to be bloody and possibly very bloody, especially at the end in the USSR itself.  Think we were all very lucky the Soviet empire fell in the way it did.

  Steve

[lordroel]

Nov 11, 2019 20:58:46 GMT stevep said:

   Lordroel

   Very interesting although I notice he is only talking about E Germany and the assorted social and political problems will also be occurring in the other nations in the eastern bloc, being worse in a number of cases I suspect. If the wall doesn't come down because of greater repression things are going to be bloody and possibly very bloody, especially at the end in the USSR itself.  Think we were all very lucky the Soviet empire fell in the way it did.

  Steve

Second that stevep, we are all to be lucky that David Haselhoff brought down the wall.

[dayton3]

IIRC the U.S.News & World Report 50th anniversary issue in 1982 had predictions for the next 50 years and they predicted the "Soviet East European Empire would be gone by 2030.

I've no reason to disagree with that assessment.

[lordroel]

Related to this topic, another article i made called What if: The Berlin Wall did not fall in 1989 with full article posted below as the one mentioned in the link is over 3 years old and this thread is newer.

What if: The Berlin Wall did not fall in 1989

It was the Leipzig massacre, on the evening of Monday October 9, 1989, that decided the future of Europe.

No Westerners witnessed it because the East Berlin regime had efficiently expelled almost every foreign journalist from the country by noon that day, and closed all its borders. Travel to Leipzig itself was impossible for some hours before and for weeks afterwards.

On the previous Saturday night, October 7, the East German government began to shut the country to foreign media, furious at what it said were 'provocations' by Westerners during violent clashes between demonstrators and police in Berlin.

These had followed the appearance in the city of Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev to make what turned out to be his last public speech at a parade marking the 40th anniversary of East Germany's foundation.

Young people taking part in an official march-past had called out 'Help us, Gorby!', and later that evening there had been several outbreaks of noisy protest, some close to the Berlin Wall itself.

The following day thousands of people gathered for a peaceful demonstration at the vast redbrick Gethsemane Church on Schoenhauser Allee, a few miles north of the centre. Police surrounded the church, using armoured cars and dogs, then staged a mass arrest of those leaving, eventually bursting in to the building and rounding up everyone in sight.

It later emerged that many known dissidents, especially Protestant pastors, had been interned at the same time and placed in rudimentary camps in remote areas. Units of the ultra-loyal Felix Dzerzhinsky Regiment, the regime's palace guard, were seen at several key points in Berlin.

Westerners, including West Germans, were quickly identified, escorted to the Wall and ejected. Even the normally easy access via Checkpoint Charlie in Berlin was stopped 'for technical reasons'.

Telephone lines to the East 'failed' during Monday afternoon. Two Western reporters, trying to sneak on to a Leipzig-bound train at East Berlin's cavernous Hauptbahnhof station, were arrested, taken to the Friedrichstrasse crossing point and literally thrown out of the country.

East German TV abruptly went off the air and was replaced by a powerful jamming signal, employing previously unused technology to black out West German broadcasts.

It was only in the days afterwards, as phone lines and postal services gradually reopened and Leipzig citizens ingeniously managed to get coded or disguised messages through to relatives in the West, that it became clear something truly terrible had taken place, probably on the scale of the Tiananmen Square massacre in Peking a few months earlier.

It would be weeks before the famous short snatch of grainy, soundless cine-film, miraculously made by a brave unknown citizen, was smuggled to Hamburg in the lavatory of a cross-border train. The footage showed tanks and armoured cars opening fire on crowds carrying home-made banners proclaiming: 'We Are The People!'

Careful examination of the footage revealed dozens, including many women, mown down by what seemed to be heavy machine-gun fire, but the light was poor and details unclear. Many could also have been killed or injured in the crush as terrified marchers tried to flee.

By the time the film emerged, the dead had been secretly cremated and their relatives efficiently scared into silence. Human rights groups estimated that as many as 1,000 people died that night, but the nature of the East German state meant that an accurate figure will never be known.

The crisis had moved elsewhere, and the world was not as interested as it should have been. This was exactly what the East German rulers - and their allies in other Soviet bloc countries - had counted on.

Until Leipzig, many had thought a major revolution was about to happen, one that might even have ended with the Berlin Wall coming down. For weeks, protesters against East Germany's miserable regime had been parading each Monday night round the city centre.

They had good reason to do so. The city lived under a permanent cloud of brownish filth and its water fizzed with dangerous chemicals. Life was sad, hopeless and regimented, the people spied on.

Inspired by word of liberalisation in the USSR itself, the East German people were hoping it would be their turn soon.

But their leaders thought otherwise. The ancient communist despot Erich Honecker knew that everything he lived for depended on Germany staying divided, and on the communist Warsaw Pact alliance that kept things as they were.

Like every Eastern European leader, and especially the Romanian despot Nicolae Ceausescu, he feared his own people.

He remembered the savage lynchings of Hungarian secret police by the Budapest mob during the brief uprising in 1956. And he was nervous that, if he ever lost power, he would face revenge for his vicious policy of shooting refugees who tried to escape his rule.

Honecker maintained the biggest and most sophisticated repressive machine ever to exist. About 250,000 of East Germany's 16 million people worked full or part-time for the Stasi security police. Thanks to this, plus the quiet expulsion of anyone who caused too much trouble, there was no organised resistance to the regime, apart from a few courageous pastors.

The sudden rush of refugees to the West after the protests, although it resulted in the loss of many valued professionals, also meant that the most active and potentially dangerous opponents of communism were gone for good.

Increasingly frightened by the threat of revolution, Honecker and his secret police chief Erich Mielke used KGB channels to contact other hardliners in Moscow, Prague, Budapest, Bucharest and Sofia. It was clear that without intervention, Poland and Hungary were on the verge of having openly anti-communist governments.

The dangerous mood had spread to Russia, which had been hit by long strikes in the Siberian coalfields.

Independence movements were under way in the three Baltic republics, where the USSR's main radar defences against nuclear attack on Moscow and Leningrad were sited. The normally liberal Gorbachev had made it plain that they must stay under Moscow rule. There were also angry stirrings in the Caucasus, especially in Georgia.

Intelligence sources claim a meeting had been held in late August, almost certainly in the former Prague monastery used as headquarters by the Czech StB secret police, at which a plot against the reformer Gorbachev was conceived.

The conclave of Stalinist communists, secret policemen and military veterans agreed co-ordinated action was needed to halt and reverse what they viewed as a Western conspiracy to overthrow the Soviet state and establish American control over Eastern Europe.

Here is the little we think we know, pieced together from official accounts and persistent rumours circulating among Moscow dissidents.

Gorbachev's official plane left Berlin's Schoenefeld airport, after a notably chilly farewell from Honecker, late on Saturday, October 7. The official version says the aircraft 'developed engine trouble' soon after crossing into Soviet airspace and landed at a military base outside Minsk around midnight.

There, Gorbachev was surprised to be met by Vladimir Kryuchkov, chairman of the KGB, and General Valentin Varennikov, commander of Soviet land forces.

They informed him that a special meeting of the Politburo had that afternoon removed him from all his official posts, replacing him with a new joint leadership: the former KGB chief Viktor Chebrikov and the Ukrainian Communist Party boss Vladimir Shcherbitsky.

Gorbachev was said to have protested angrily, but to have sunk into despair when told that his wife, Raisa, had suffered a stroke at the couple's dacha in the forest outside Moscow.

He has made no public appearances since, and is believed to have been confined to the dacha, in some comfort but forbidden contact with the outside world.

His foreign minister and close ally, Eduard Shevardnadze, was believed to have suffered the same fate. Western journalists and diplomats who tried to reach both men were arrested and expelled. A document purporting to be Gorbachev's 'testament', which circulated for some years, is generally considered to be a fake.

In the general suppression of dissent in politics and the media, a number of prominent figures disappeared from view and were also thought to be under some form of house arrest.

The closure of almost all Western newspaper offices in Moscow, and the increasingly tight restrictions under which foreign reporters and diplomats had to work, made it hard to establish the facts.

Those missing included Boris Yeltsin, the rebellious former Moscow communist boss. Russia's most prominent dissenter, the nuclear scientist Andrei Sakharov, was said to have died of a heart attack soon after KGB men arrived at his Moscow apartment. His wife, the outspoken Yelena Bonner, was sent back to the closed industrial city of Gorky, the couple's former place of exile.

The invasion of Poland at the end of October took the world by surprise. Neither the Poles, nor Nato, nor any experts had thought the Kremlin was still capable of such ruthlessness.

Several units of the Third Shock Army, normally stationed in East Germany, crossed into Poland by night and moved swiftly into position to back up paratroops, hardened and clearly trigger-happy thanks to recent service in Afghanistan.

The surprise was highly effective, the Polish army hardly had time to fire a shot, and the leadership of Solidarity was swiftly rounded up. A ferocious martial law was imposed in Warsaw and Gdansk.

There was surprisingly little fighting. The Pope appealed for calm, saying nothing could justify further carnage, and that the great struggle for human liberty would continue regardless.

Margaret Thatcher and President George Bush, backed by the other Nato leaders, angrily denounced the measures as 'a return to the coldest phase of the Cold War'. Mutterings against Mrs Thatcher in the Tory party died away as Conservative MPs agreed that the Iron Lady was needed to see the country through this dangerous time.

Mr Bush quite deliberately revived Ronald Reagan's phrase 'an Evil Empire' in his January 1990 State of the Union message. The same phrase would be echoed in Germany in 2009, when President Barack Obama spoke in front of the Berlin Wall at Brandenburg Gate.

A special Nato summit was held in Brussels, at which the alliance members pledged their unity in support of freedom and democracy. Tanks were moved up to the American side of Checkpoint Charlie in Berlin, and major manoeuvres were held in West Germany.

But, as had happened over the Soviet repressions of freedom in Berlin in 1953, in Budapest in 1956 and in Prague in 1968, the Western nations did not actually do anything. And the new Soviet government responded to the protests by saying stonily that it 'would act according to its interests in its own sphere of influence'.

A miserable, silent peace descended across the entire Soviet bloc. Prominent-dissidents were offered the choice of imprisonment or exile, and mostly chose imprisonment.

The events caused turmoil in the Labour Party, after Neil Kinnock's dramatic 'Which side are we on?' speech, in which he gave his full backing to a strengthening of Britain's nuclear deterrent and Nato forces. The party's pro-CND Left, together with many communist-influenced trade unionists, refused to support him.

The quarrel continued to divide Labour and the unions right up to the General Election of May 1991, in which Mrs Thatcher scored an unprecedented fourth term.

The Labour Party then split into several factions, and was eventually replaced as the main Opposition by David Owen's Social and Liberal Democrats. Dr Owen's convincing Cold Warrior stance helped him score a substantial victory in the 1996 Election - in which Labour was reduced to a small rump concentrated in Scotland and Wales.

Faced with a growing crisis in education, both Norman Tebbit's Tories and David Owen's SLD agreed on the gradual reintroduction of academic selection in secondary schools, and for far more rigorous qualifications for teachers.

The rise in crime also prompted a consensus that police officers should return to regular foot patrol, and the Police and Criminal Evidence Act 1984, judged to have tied officers' hands, was repealed.

A proposal to privatise the railways was laughed out of Parliament by MPs of all parties.

The other significant development of the time was the collapse of the Provisional IRA, which lost much of its former support in the United States in the new atmosphere, and which was also accused of receiving Soviet backing. After Provisional Sinn Fein's leaders went into exile in Dublin, direct rule was made permanent and a wide-ranging programme aimed at permanently abolishing anti-Catholic discrimination set in motion.

One side effect of the new Cold War confrontation was the abrupt end of reforms in South Africa. The Communist Party dominated the African National Congress, and the Nato powers feared that an ANC government would provide bases and valuable raw materials to the USSR. So they continued to give grudging support to the minority white regime, while pressing for change.

Nelson Mandela was released from prison in the spring of 1990, but pro-communist ANC figures were not allowed to return to the country and, despite the 'liberalising' rule begun by F.W. de Klerk, the country was still plagued by violent unrest.

The new Cold War also diverted Europe's attention away from schemes for a 'European Union' and a 'Single Market' as statesmen concentratedon strengthening Nato. A grandiose scheme for a European single currency was shelved indefinitely.

The 1987 Intermediate Nuclear Forces Treaty, which would have led to the destruction of cruise missiles based in Britain, was suspended by President Bush, and the twin bases, at Greenham Common and Molesworth, were retained. A small group of 'peace women', many in their 70s, is still camped outside Greenham Common to this day.

Published on the website Daily Mail.co. with a article called: What if the Berlin Wall didn't fall

[stevep]

Nov 13, 2019 15:52:38 GMT dayton3 said:

IIRC the U.S.News & World Report 50th anniversary issue in 1982 had predictions for the next 50 years and they predicted the "Soviet East European Empire would be gone by 2030.

I've no reason to disagree with that assessment.

  I remember reading something where a social statistician - forget the exact role but something like that - predicted the fall of the USSR from data on the declining life expectancy and other parameters. So there were definitely people suggesting it would fall, from a number of sources.  Of course the big issue was always would it be a soft or an hard landing when things fell apart.

[stevep]

Nov 13, 2019 16:06:22 GMT lordroel said:

Related to this topic, another article i made called What if: The Berlin Wall did not fall in 1989 with full article posted below as the one mentioned in the link is over 3 years old and this thread is newer.

What if: The Berlin Wall did not fall in 1989

It was the Leipzig massacre, on the evening of Monday October 9, 1989, that decided the future of Europe.

No Westerners witnessed it because the East Berlin regime had efficiently expelled almost every foreign journalist from the country by noon that day, and closed all its borders. Travel to Leipzig itself was impossible for some hours before and for weeks afterwards.

On the previous Saturday night, October 7, the East German government began to shut the country to foreign media, furious at what it said were 'provocations' by Westerners during violent clashes between demonstrators and police in Berlin.

These had followed the appearance in the city of Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev to make what turned out to be his last public speech at a parade marking the 40th anniversary of East Germany's foundation.

Young people taking part in an official march-past had called out 'Help us, Gorby!', and later that evening there had been several outbreaks of noisy protest, some close to the Berlin Wall itself.

The following day thousands of people gathered for a peaceful demonstration at the vast redbrick Gethsemane Church on Schoenhauser Allee, a few miles north of the centre. Police surrounded the church, using armoured cars and dogs, then staged a mass arrest of those leaving, eventually bursting in to the building and rounding up everyone in sight.

It later emerged that many known dissidents, especially Protestant pastors, had been interned at the same time and placed in rudimentary camps in remote areas. Units of the ultra-loyal Felix Dzerzhinsky Regiment, the regime's palace guard, were seen at several key points in Berlin.

Westerners, including West Germans, were quickly identified, escorted to the Wall and ejected. Even the normally easy access via Checkpoint Charlie in Berlin was stopped 'for technical reasons'.

Telephone lines to the East 'failed' during Monday afternoon. Two Western reporters, trying to sneak on to a Leipzig-bound train at East Berlin's cavernous Hauptbahnhof station, were arrested, taken to the Friedrichstrasse crossing point and literally thrown out of the country.

East German TV abruptly went off the air and was replaced by a powerful jamming signal, employing previously unused technology to black out West German broadcasts.

It was only in the days afterwards, as phone lines and postal services gradually reopened and Leipzig citizens ingeniously managed to get coded or disguised messages through to relatives in the West, that it became clear something truly terrible had taken place, probably on the scale of the Tiananmen Square massacre in Peking a few months earlier.

It would be weeks before the famous short snatch of grainy, soundless cine-film, miraculously made by a brave unknown citizen, was smuggled to Hamburg in the lavatory of a cross-border train. The footage showed tanks and armoured cars opening fire on crowds carrying home-made banners proclaiming: 'We Are The People!'

Careful examination of the footage revealed dozens, including many women, mown down by what seemed to be heavy machine-gun fire, but the light was poor and details unclear. Many could also have been killed or injured in the crush as terrified marchers tried to flee.

By the time the film emerged, the dead had been secretly cremated and their relatives efficiently scared into silence. Human rights groups estimated that as many as 1,000 people died that night, but the nature of the East German state meant that an accurate figure will never be known.

The crisis had moved elsewhere, and the world was not as interested as it should have been. This was exactly what the East German rulers - and their allies in other Soviet bloc countries - had counted on.

Until Leipzig, many had thought a major revolution was about to happen, one that might even have ended with the Berlin Wall coming down. For weeks, protesters against East Germany's miserable regime had been parading each Monday night round the city centre.

They had good reason to do so. The city lived under a permanent cloud of brownish filth and its water fizzed with dangerous chemicals. Life was sad, hopeless and regimented, the people spied on.

Inspired by word of liberalisation in the USSR itself, the East German people were hoping it would be their turn soon.

But their leaders thought otherwise. The ancient communist despot Erich Honecker knew that everything he lived for depended on Germany staying divided, and on the communist Warsaw Pact alliance that kept things as they were.

Like every Eastern European leader, and especially the Romanian despot Nicolae Ceausescu, he feared his own people.

He remembered the savage lynchings of Hungarian secret police by the Budapest mob during the brief uprising in 1956. And he was nervous that, if he ever lost power, he would face revenge for his vicious policy of shooting refugees who tried to escape his rule.

Honecker maintained the biggest and most sophisticated repressive machine ever to exist. About 250,000 of East Germany's 16 million people worked full or part-time for the Stasi security police. Thanks to this, plus the quiet expulsion of anyone who caused too much trouble, there was no organised resistance to the regime, apart from a few courageous pastors.

The sudden rush of refugees to the West after the protests, although it resulted in the loss of many valued professionals, also meant that the most active and potentially dangerous opponents of communism were gone for good.

Increasingly frightened by the threat of revolution, Honecker and his secret police chief Erich Mielke used KGB channels to contact other hardliners in Moscow, Prague, Budapest, Bucharest and Sofia. It was clear that without intervention, Poland and Hungary were on the verge of having openly anti-communist governments.

The dangerous mood had spread to Russia, which had been hit by long strikes in the Siberian coalfields.

Independence movements were under way in the three Baltic republics, where the USSR's main radar defences against nuclear attack on Moscow and Leningrad were sited. The normally liberal Gorbachev had made it plain that they must stay under Moscow rule. There were also angry stirrings in the Caucasus, especially in Georgia.

Intelligence sources claim a meeting had been held in late August, almost certainly in the former Prague monastery used as headquarters by the Czech StB secret police, at which a plot against the reformer Gorbachev was conceived.

The conclave of Stalinist communists, secret policemen and military veterans agreed co-ordinated action was needed to halt and reverse what they viewed as a Western conspiracy to overthrow the Soviet state and establish American control over Eastern Europe.

Here is the little we think we know, pieced together from official accounts and persistent rumours circulating among Moscow dissidents.

Gorbachev's official plane left Berlin's Schoenefeld airport, after a notably chilly farewell from Honecker, late on Saturday, October 7. The official version says the aircraft 'developed engine trouble' soon after crossing into Soviet airspace and landed at a military base outside Minsk around midnight.

There, Gorbachev was surprised to be met by Vladimir Kryuchkov, chairman of the KGB, and General Valentin Varennikov, commander of Soviet land forces.

They informed him that a special meeting of the Politburo had that afternoon removed him from all his official posts, replacing him with a new joint leadership: the former KGB chief Viktor Chebrikov and the Ukrainian Communist Party boss Vladimir Shcherbitsky.

Gorbachev was said to have protested angrily, but to have sunk into despair when told that his wife, Raisa, had suffered a stroke at the couple's dacha in the forest outside Moscow.

He has made no public appearances since, and is believed to have been confined to the dacha, in some comfort but forbidden contact with the outside world.

His foreign minister and close ally, Eduard Shevardnadze, was believed to have suffered the same fate. Western journalists and diplomats who tried to reach both men were arrested and expelled. A document purporting to be Gorbachev's 'testament', which circulated for some years, is generally considered to be a fake.

In the general suppression of dissent in politics and the media, a number of prominent figures disappeared from view and were also thought to be under some form of house arrest.

The closure of almost all Western newspaper offices in Moscow, and the increasingly tight restrictions under which foreign reporters and diplomats had to work, made it hard to establish the facts.

Those missing included Boris Yeltsin, the rebellious former Moscow communist boss. Russia's most prominent dissenter, the nuclear scientist Andrei Sakharov, was said to have died of a heart attack soon after KGB men arrived at his Moscow apartment. His wife, the outspoken Yelena Bonner, was sent back to the closed industrial city of Gorky, the couple's former place of exile.

The invasion of Poland at the end of October took the world by surprise. Neither the Poles, nor Nato, nor any experts had thought the Kremlin was still capable of such ruthlessness.

Several units of the Third Shock Army, normally stationed in East Germany, crossed into Poland by night and moved swiftly into position to back up paratroops, hardened and clearly trigger-happy thanks to recent service in Afghanistan.

The surprise was highly effective, the Polish army hardly had time to fire a shot, and the leadership of Solidarity was swiftly rounded up. A ferocious martial law was imposed in Warsaw and Gdansk.

There was surprisingly little fighting. The Pope appealed for calm, saying nothing could justify further carnage, and that the great struggle for human liberty would continue regardless.

Margaret Thatcher and President George Bush, backed by the other Nato leaders, angrily denounced the measures as 'a return to the coldest phase of the Cold War'. Mutterings against Mrs Thatcher in the Tory party died away as Conservative MPs agreed that the Iron Lady was needed to see the country through this dangerous time.

Mr Bush quite deliberately revived Ronald Reagan's phrase 'an Evil Empire' in his January 1990 State of the Union message. The same phrase would be echoed in Germany in 2009, when President Barack Obama spoke in front of the Berlin Wall at Brandenburg Gate.

A special Nato summit was held in Brussels, at which the alliance members pledged their unity in support of freedom and democracy. Tanks were moved up to the American side of Checkpoint Charlie in Berlin, and major manoeuvres were held in West Germany.

But, as had happened over the Soviet repressions of freedom in Berlin in 1953, in Budapest in 1956 and in Prague in 1968, the Western nations did not actually do anything. And the new Soviet government responded to the protests by saying stonily that it 'would act according to its interests in its own sphere of influence'.

A miserable, silent peace descended across the entire Soviet bloc. Prominent-dissidents were offered the choice of imprisonment or exile, and mostly chose imprisonment.

The events caused turmoil in the Labour Party, after Neil Kinnock's dramatic 'Which side are we on?' speech, in which he gave his full backing to a strengthening of Britain's nuclear deterrent and Nato forces. The party's pro-CND Left, together with many communist-influenced trade unionists, refused to support him.

The quarrel continued to divide Labour and the unions right up to the General Election of May 1991, in which Mrs Thatcher scored an unprecedented fourth term.

The Labour Party then split into several factions, and was eventually replaced as the main Opposition by David Owen's Social and Liberal Democrats. Dr Owen's convincing Cold Warrior stance helped him score a substantial victory in the 1996 Election - in which Labour was reduced to a small rump concentrated in Scotland and Wales.

Faced with a growing crisis in education, both Norman Tebbit's Tories and David Owen's SLD agreed on the gradual reintroduction of academic selection in secondary schools, and for far more rigorous qualifications for teachers.

The rise in crime also prompted a consensus that police officers should return to regular foot patrol, and the Police and Criminal Evidence Act 1984, judged to have tied officers' hands, was repealed.

A proposal to privatise the railways was laughed out of Parliament by MPs of all parties.

The other significant development of the time was the collapse of the Provisional IRA, which lost much of its former support in the United States in the new atmosphere, and which was also accused of receiving Soviet backing. After Provisional Sinn Fein's leaders went into exile in Dublin, direct rule was made permanent and a wide-ranging programme aimed at permanently abolishing anti-Catholic discrimination set in motion.

One side effect of the new Cold War confrontation was the abrupt end of reforms in South Africa. The Communist Party dominated the African National Congress, and the Nato powers feared that an ANC government would provide bases and valuable raw materials to the USSR. So they continued to give grudging support to the minority white regime, while pressing for change.

Nelson Mandela was released from prison in the spring of 1990, but pro-communist ANC figures were not allowed to return to the country and, despite the 'liberalising' rule begun by F.W. de Klerk, the country was still plagued by violent unrest.

The new Cold War also diverted Europe's attention away from schemes for a 'European Union' and a 'Single Market' as statesmen concentratedon strengthening Nato. A grandiose scheme for a European single currency was shelved indefinitely.

The 1987 Intermediate Nuclear Forces Treaty, which would have led to the destruction of cruise missiles based in Britain, was suspended by President Bush, and the twin bases, at Greenham Common and Molesworth, were retained. A small group of 'peace women', many in their 70s, is still camped outside Greenham Common to this day.

Published on the website Daily Mail.co. with a article called: What if the Berlin Wall didn't fall

  I could see another round of repression and removal of reformers or even moderates.  However that's simply going to stoke up the pressure even higher.  Sooner or later somethings going to give, whether its going to be an internal explosion of unrest at a much greater level or a desperate lash out at the west to try and divert attention from internal problems.

  In the situation mentioned in the scenario E Germany, Poland and probably also Hungary and Czechoslovakia are going to be weakened and destablised.  The WP as a whole can commit more forces to tying down those regions but its already struggling under the burden of its bloated military.  It can try doing what other empires have done in the past, deploying units to countries other than their own to reduce the chance that they would support demonstrators but that's going to further reduce efficiency and what do you do with the soldiers from inside Russia itself?  I very much doubt that the Soviet empire would last much longer but how bloody that fall might be and how widespread the resulting chaos would be would be the big issue.

  Another factor is that such a drastic shift in the WP would pretty much kill off detente and result in a cut in interaction between the east and west, which is likely to have bad results for the former as their increasingly dependent on western exports, especially electronic stuff they can't effectively supply themselves and food from N America.

  While the Mail might see Thatcher lasting longer I doubt it as she had seriously lost the plot by then with the pool tax.  It was a step too far in the Tory parties social engineering to shift wealth from the ordinary people to the very rich so I can't see her surviving.  Quite probably with a clear cooling of the cold war the Tories would win another election as OTL I doubt it would with Thatcher in charge.  It might however prompt another round of division in the Labour party so that its the alliance that becomes the primary opposition and eventually takes over the government when the system no longer enables the Tories to hang on to power.