The fall of the Berlin Wall marked endings in so many interlinked narratives that its meaning seems too over-determined. At a basic level it ended the division of Germany, restoring to it a unity that seemed all but inevitable. But that a unified Germany could be contemplated without inciting fear was a testament to how much Europe, and Germany, had moved beyond the abominable histories of the 20th century. In a wider canvas, the fall restored the project of a European identity. As much as the EU is a politically hobbled entity, the fall of the Berlin Wall gave the idea of European unity a new momentum. Eastern Europe with alacrity jumped to participating in the European project.

Moving eastward still, the fall represented the collapse of the Soviet Empire. It marked the end of a recurrent Russian ambition: to be a major European power. And

Russia has been struggling to find its strategic identity ever since. But most importantly, the fall marked the symbolic collapse of that most astonishing of 20th century utopian projects: communism. The character of communism as an ideology and reality can be debated. But there is little doubt that its collapse was seen, rightly, as a form of emancipation. The fall of the Berlin Wall was an episode in the history of freedom. But with the collapse of communism the central axis around which world conflicts were organised also disappeared. The Cold War, a singular fact that impinged upon every nation, ended. Even more radically after the fall of the Berlin wall, Francis Fukumaya pronounced the end of history itself. There appeared to be finality to the ideological triumph of liberal democracy.

... contd.