Essay by Ai Weiwei: German Humor
The artist publishes his essay titled "German Humor" in the current issue of Weltbühne. In it, Ai Weiwei takes a stand against his former Germany. The text had previously been rejected by Die Zeit.
When I received a request from ZEITmagazin on July 11, 2025, to contribute 15 to 20 short thoughts on the topic "What I wish I had known about Germany earlier," I was honestly quite surprised. It had been a long time since I had received any attention from the German media.
When I walk down the street, people stop me—like this morning—and ask, "Oh, you're still in Berlin?" I say, "Yes, unless you think we're in Paris." Then they reply, "No, we all know you're gone." That shows how powerful the media is. When the media says I'm gone, everyone who sees me thinks I don't exist anymore. This question of existence or non-existence is still a problem for someone like me, an exile—but I've gotten used to it. So when the magazine asked me about my impressions of Germany, I simply told the truth. Of course, my view may be biased, perhaps neither particularly specific nor comprehensive—but it is my view.
On July 23, ZEITmagazin asked me for further contributions in a more personal and lighter tone, whereupon I submitted additional reflections. Two days later, editor Elisa Pfleger initially showed me an abridged and edited version. Immediately afterward, she informed me that the editor-in-chief, Johannes Dudziak, had reviewed the column, canceled its publication, and commissioned new contributions from other authors.
Read the full interview with Ai Weiwei here:Here is the column I wrote on the topic “What I wish I had known about Germany earlier” – including the additional reflections the magazine later requested:
• A society governed by rules but lacking an individual moral compass is more dangerous than one without any rules at all. • A society that values obedience without questioning authority is destined to become corrupt. • A society that admits mistakes but does not reflect on their origins possesses a mind as rigid and dull as granite. • On a deserted road, people obediently stop at a red light. Not a car in sight. I once thought: That is the sign of a highly developed society. • At the heart of bureaucracy lies a collective consent to the legitimacy of power – that is why individuals abandon their moral judgment, or have never developed it. They renounce dissent. They give up arguing.
• When conversation becomes avoidance, when topics are not allowed to be addressed, we are already living under the silent logic of authoritarianism.
• When the majority believes they live in a free society, it is often a sign that the society is not free. Freedom is not a gift—it must be wrested from banality and silent complicity with power. • When people sense that power is unassailable, they channel their energy into petty disputes. And these petty disputes are collective enough to undermine the foundations of justice in a society. • When high-profile public events—like the Nord Stream pipeline explosion—are met with silence from government and the media, that silence itself becomes more frightening than any nuclear bomb. • Facts are partially acknowledged, deliberately forgotten, or swallowed up by collective silence. Thus, the catastrophe repeats itself—over and over again, in cycles. • When the media subordinates itself to public opinion or avoids conflict in order to stay in favor with those in power, it becomes accomplices of power. • What we call "lying" is not always a distortion of facts. • Political leaders make decisions based on errors and failures. This reflects the general political condition of a society in which most people have abandoned their consciousness and even their basic agency—enabling these leaders to implement their mistakes on their behalf. • When a society uses language differences or cultural misunderstandings as an excuse for exclusion, it has achieved an insidious form of racism. This is not a political opinion—it is an attitude, a taint in the blood, inherited like genes.
• Bureaucracy is not just inert. It is cultural contempt. It rejects dialogue. It insists that ignorance, couched in rules—however false and inhumane—is the best resistance to social advancement and moral movement. In such a society, hope is not misplaced—it is extinguished.
• In the atmosphere around you, one detects not culture, but self-congratulation; not art, but demarcation and collective reverence for power. What is missing is sincerity—emotional and intentional honesty. In such an environment, it is almost impossible to create art that engages with genuine human feeling or moral debate. • A place that regularly rejects self-reflection and obliterates individual agency already lives beneath the iron walls of authoritarianism. • I have no family, no homeland, never known what it is like to belong. I belong only to myself. At best, this self should belong to everyone. • I still don't know what art is. I only hope that what I make touches its edges, even if it seemingly has nothing to do with them. And indeed: at best, it has nothing to do with me, because the "I" is already dissolving into everything. • The things displayed in galleries, museums, and collectors' living rooms—are they works of art? Who decided that? On what basis? Why do I always feel distrustful in their presence?• Works that evade reality, that shy away from argument, controversy, or debate—whether text, painting, or performance—are worthless. And strangely enough, it is precisely this worthless art that society most likes to celebrate.• I understand now: people crave power and tyranny like they crave sunshine and rain—because the weight of self-consciousness feels like pain. Sometimes even like catastrophe.
• In most cases, society chooses the most selfish, least idealistic among us to do what we call “art” – because this choice makes everyone feel safe.
Additional reflections• In Berlin, I encounter pork knuckle and schnitzel everywhere – and I can hardly believe that such a highly developed country offers such a monotonous selection of ingredients. Even more baffling is the sudden proliferation of Chinese restaurants – most of them specializing in noodles and at a culinary level that any Chinese person could easily achieve at home. The variety of dishes and preparation methods is so limited here that people from all over the world are forced to open restaurants: Vietnamese, Thai, Turkish – it's all represented.• But the truly frightening thing? The sheer number of Chinese restaurants. I can only assume that they believe Germans will eat whatever is put on their plates. Long lines even form outside some of these restaurants – even though what is served there bears little resemblance to authentic Chinese cuisine.• My favorite food in Germany: bread and sausage – you won't find anything with such character anywhere else.• It baffles me why so many people voluntarily squeeze into a cramped bar just to have a long conversation. Since I don't speak the language, I can only assume that young people in Berlin are talking about club life. Such topics were popular in the US in the 1970s and 1980s.
• The Germans may be the people furthest removed from humor. Perhaps this is due to their deep respect for rationality. Just look at Berlin Airport or the Mercedes-Benz commercials—you get the feeling that their lack of humor is itself a kind of gigantic humor.
Berliner-zeitung
