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| Photo: Mohsin4376 |
True story: Hans Massaquoi—the
son of a German mother and an African father—came of age in Germany in the
era when Adolph Hitler’s popularity surged, right through World War II (and the
ethnic cleansing of “non-Aryans”), and beyond. It's unbelievable that he survived, but he also never
saw the inside of any of the concentration camps or gas chambers in which
millions of European Jews perished. He, like most of his compatriots, didn’t even know of the existence of these death
chambers until after the war.
I was stunned when I first heard about Massaquoi’s truly unique life. It was on the radio during one of my morning commutes back in January and, sadly, the story was actually part of his obituary. He'd died that day, at the ripe old age of 87. His passing marks the end of an era, and yet what a legacy he leaves behind. A full, rich, exceptional life—one I’m surprised that I, and perhaps you as well, had not heard about until now.
I was stunned when I first heard about Massaquoi’s truly unique life. It was on the radio during one of my morning commutes back in January and, sadly, the story was actually part of his obituary. He'd died that day, at the ripe old age of 87. His passing marks the end of an era, and yet what a legacy he leaves behind. A full, rich, exceptional life—one I’m surprised that I, and perhaps you as well, had not heard about until now.
As soon as I heard about him, I looked Massaquoi up on the
Internet. Turns out he’d written his autobiography in 1999 (and still we hadn’t
heard of him?). I convinced my local library to order a copy, though it didn’t
take much convincing. Soon, I found myself spellbound as I flew through the book.
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| Hans's grandfather, Momolo Massaquoi, had been king of his Vai tribe in Liberia. Amidst political infighting, he abdicated, but continued to play an influential role in Liberian politics and society.
(Photo: Mohsin4376)
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Massaquoi was born in Hamburg, Germany, in 1926. His parents met when his grandfather, a member of African
royalty, served as the consul general of Liberia in Germany, bringing over part
of his large family. At the time, Hans's father, Al-Haj Massaquoi, was
studying in Dublin, occasionally visiting his own father in Hamburg as well as
wooing Bertha Baetz. Eventually, Bertha gave birth to Hans, or Hans-Jürgen, as he was named. When Hans was still a toddler, Al-Haj, reportedly quite the ladies’ man (whom Bertha
could never get to the altar), left Germany.
Massaquoi’s upbringing in Germany was anything but easy. His loving, devoted mother took up a job as a nurse to support them both, but she was dismissed when Massaquoi was still a child (and, as he found out many years later, because of his race). He grew up way too accustomed to the constant racial taunts from other children—the most common one, which followed him everywhere for years, was Neger, Neger, Schornsteinfeger (Negro, Negro, chimney sweep)!—as well as the institutionalized racism in Nazi Germany at school and, later, at work. He became accustomed to stares and hearing that he was ugly, often from total strangers. Massaquoi’s stories about the savage cruelty he endured from teachers amd principals, with no recourse, as well as not being allowed to legally date or attend university (despite his ambition, thirst for learning, and impeccable academic record) is at times difficult to read. He learned to hate the way he looked as well as suppress his angst, even with his mother, whom he adored but did not want to hurt.
Massaquoi’s upbringing in Germany was anything but easy. His loving, devoted mother took up a job as a nurse to support them both, but she was dismissed when Massaquoi was still a child (and, as he found out many years later, because of his race). He grew up way too accustomed to the constant racial taunts from other children—the most common one, which followed him everywhere for years, was Neger, Neger, Schornsteinfeger (Negro, Negro, chimney sweep)!—as well as the institutionalized racism in Nazi Germany at school and, later, at work. He became accustomed to stares and hearing that he was ugly, often from total strangers. Massaquoi’s stories about the savage cruelty he endured from teachers amd principals, with no recourse, as well as not being allowed to legally date or attend university (despite his ambition, thirst for learning, and impeccable academic record) is at times difficult to read. He learned to hate the way he looked as well as suppress his angst, even with his mother, whom he adored but did not want to hurt.
Still, in his innocence and naivete, the young Massaquoi proudly wore the swastika on his school uniform. He desperately longed to join the Hitler Youth movement along with his classmates and neighborhood friends. He was turned down for being a non-Aryan, of course, but he felt shame rather than anger at not garnering that very overt symbol of acceptance. He had also learned to revere the Führer, love his country, and fear and hate the Jews, right up until adolescence when he realized he was considered one of the "enemy.”
One
of the most astounding stories comes early in his autobiography, when
a school-age Massaquoi and his mother visit a new “zoo” in Hamburg. To their utter shock,
one of the exhibits displays African people, tribals who had
been captured, caged, and displayed like dangerous, wild animals. Massaquoi
describes not only his shock and his mother’s outrage, but also their utter
discomfort when the crowd, both inside and outside the cage,
all begin staring at Massaquoi, filling him with bitter shame and contributing to the low self-esteem he continues to feel throughout his early life in Germany.
Later, when Allied bombs rain down on Hamburg during the
war years, he and his mother make nightly runs to their nearest bomb shelter, as does everyone else in the city. One of the country’s largest industrial cities,
Hamburg was considered crucial to supplying the German military with weapons
and other essentials. Eventually, more than 40,000 of its citizens die from these war-time bombings, and Massaquoi constantly wonders how he, of all people, manages to
survive.
After the war, Massaquoi works a few grueling years as a factory
machinist, then as a jazz musician (at a time when jazz was considered the music of
undesirable non-Aryans and thus banned), and finally as a black market
smuggler. Obtaining a
Liberian passport, he is finally able to leave Germany in the early 1950s. He makes the long journey by ship to Liberia, where he’s
reunited with his long-estranged father and begins a new life.
No spoilers here; you’ll have to read the book to find
out about his interesting reunion with Al-Haj as well as the many other members
of Hans’s royal family, including a brother he hadn’t known existed and a
grandmother who summons him to Lagos, Nigeria. His adventures in Africa are
fascinating, including his perceptions about race, ethnicity, family, and his
place among it all. His adventures around Liberia range from rubbing elbows
with the country’s elite, living for a time in squalor, and visiting rural tribal areas. (Regarding the latter, monkey stew, anyone?)
Somewhere along the way, Massaquoi, along
with many young German men he knew, decides he wants to make his way to the United States,
where he envisions a promising new life in the land of the free. When he
finally arrives in the late 1950s, living on a third continent and the most diverse country of all, he’s stunned to discover not only
segregation but another form of institutionalized racism, the hypocritical
kind. Again, reunions with his German friends and family, American
immigrants like him, prove surprising.
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| (Photo: Mohsin4376) |
Because the numerous pictures in the book make no secret of it, it’s no spoiler to tell you that despite all the hurdles he has to cross, Massaquoi eventually
achieves the American dream. He becomes the editor of African-American
magazine, Ebony, marries, buys a house in a Chicago suburb, raises two
high-achieving kids (one a doctor, another a lawyer), and regularly travels all
over the world, interviewing the likes of world leaders and celebrities. (Photos in the book include one of Massaquoi pretend sparring with boxing champ Muhammad Ali and another in which he and his good friend, author Alex Haley, are poring over important-looking papers.)
Though Massaquoi had always assumed he'd been the only black German during the Nazi era, he later learns there had been at least a few others, all of whom had perished in the concentration camps. On his return to Germany in 1966, two decades after he'd left, he's surprised to discover the country had been rebuilt as though it had never been through the war, was thriving, and had seemingly become as diverse as the United States. There was even a large subculture of mixed-race Germans, the result of American soldiers based in Germany after the war. He also pieces together the fate of friends, family, and nemeses in Germany and Africa from across the years.
Massaquoi’s book, Destined to Witness, is not particularly prosaic, but it’s spellbinding nonetheless. If you can, get your hands on a copy. And RIP, Hans. You were a truly remarkable man.
Though Massaquoi had always assumed he'd been the only black German during the Nazi era, he later learns there had been at least a few others, all of whom had perished in the concentration camps. On his return to Germany in 1966, two decades after he'd left, he's surprised to discover the country had been rebuilt as though it had never been through the war, was thriving, and had seemingly become as diverse as the United States. There was even a large subculture of mixed-race Germans, the result of American soldiers based in Germany after the war. He also pieces together the fate of friends, family, and nemeses in Germany and Africa from across the years.
Massaquoi’s book, Destined to Witness, is not particularly prosaic, but it’s spellbinding nonetheless. If you can, get your hands on a copy. And RIP, Hans. You were a truly remarkable man.
