Integration is not a one-sided process of adaptation. True integration becomes possible when people stop talking about one another and start talking with one another. We can only break the shell together
The history of migration from Turkey to Germany is also a history of deferred decisions, mutual misconceptions, and a lingering sense of impermanence.
Workers from Turkey who arrived in Germany during the 1960s and 1970s were viewed as “guest workers” (Gastarbeiter): the expectation was that they would come, work, and eventually return home. A significant number of these workers also regarded Germany merely as a temporary place of employment. Their goal was to work for a few years, save money, purchase a house or a plot of land in Turkey, and then return.
Factors such as the education level, working conditions, and social circles of the first generation of immigrants made it difficult for them to engage with German society. It was not easy for a worker who labored long hours in factories, often in physically demanding roles, and spent their daily life among people who spoke the same language, to integrate into German society. Furthermore, some withdrew into their own communities out of a concern to preserve their religion, culture, and children’s heritage. In the early years, some chose not to bring their spouses and children to Germany. Others worried that bringing their families over would alter their children’s cultural identity, complicate their religious observance, or make an eventual return impossible.
If one looks back and asks, “Who bore the greatest responsibility?” the answer must surely be “the state.” This is because the state held the power, the resources, the authority to plan, and the responsibility for long-term foresight. For years, Germany failed to realize that while it was bringing in a workforce, it was not truly accepting the people themselves. The labor of these workers was needed, yet their families, languages, children, and futures were not given sufficient consideration. Germany’s failure to foresee permanent migration at the time was not merely a political error; it was a lack of vision with social consequences that are still felt today.
Of course, discussing the mistakes of the past does not absolve us of today’s responsibilities. The profile of new migrants arriving in Germany from Turkey today has changed significantly. Among those fleeing political repression, lawlessness, and the oppression of the Erdoğan administration, there are many educated individuals—academics, teachers, doctors, engineers, lawyers, journalists, and professionals from other fields. Most of these people realize they will be building a permanent life in Germany. They strive to learn the language, resume their professions, connect with Germans, and prepare a new future for their children.
However, being educated does not automatically mean integrating into society. Nor does speaking German well, on its own, foster social closeness. At this point, there is a question that this new generation of migrants must honestly ask themselves: How open are we, really, to German society? We may say we want to build relationships with Germans, yet we might still conduct our daily lives with friends from Turkey, spend our weekends exclusively within our own circles, and attend social and cultural events only with our own group. We might be learning German but failing to enter the social settings where it is actually spoken. We might be waiting for Germans to invite us, rather than extending invitations ourselves.
Sometimes, we need to take the first step. Inviting a German neighbor for coffee, meeting the family of our child’s friend, joining a sports club, engaging in volunteer work, becoming a member of local associations, or taking on responsibilities in school or neighborhood events are small yet effective steps. Social bonds are forged not at grand conferences, but through repeated, small-scale encounters.
We do not need to wait until our German is flawless to strike up a friendship with a German person; language improves only through use. Refraining from speaking out of fear of making mistakes can keep a person stagnant for years. Having an accent, mispronouncing words, or failing to grasp jokes immediately is nothing to be ashamed of. Most people value a sincere effort to communicate more than they do grammatical errors.
Likewise, immigrants should not remain in a position where they merely observe and criticize German society from the outside. Germany is not just a system to be judged; it is a shared living space where we, too, must assume responsibility. Belonging to a country means not only claiming rights from it but also taking ownership of its challenges. The elderly person living alone in our neighborhood, a role in the parent-teacher association, local elections, environmental issues, or the needs of volunteer organizations—these, too, should be our concerns.
Economic and professional relationships are also a vital part of integration. Immigrants should not limit their commercial activities to their own communities but should offer their services to society as a whole. While working with Turkish-speaking customers may be easy and safe at the outset, establishing a lasting foothold in the business world requires partnering with German colleagues, joining professional organizations, maintaining visibility in local networks, and building relationships based on trust.
However, placing the responsibility for integration solely on immigrants is neither fair nor realistic. The most important task facing German society is to open the door not only legally but also humanely. It is easy to expect someone to learn German, but creating a social environment where they can actually speak it is more difficult. One can tell an immigrant, “You must integrate into society,” but accepting them into a circle of friends, an association, a professional network, or a family circle requires genuine openness.
A fine example of this mutual effort is the initiative launched by Dr. Britta Zangen called “Ohne Sprache keine Heimat” (Without Language, No Home) (https://www.britta-zangen.de/). The project brings together German speakers and immigrants who wish to improve their German skills. While one side takes the initiative to advance their language abilities and open up to the new society, the other shares their time, their language, and their human connection. Meeting online for an hour a week or gathering at a café to chat about everyday life might seem like a small contribution at first glance. Yet, it is precisely these small, regular encounters that foster integration.
Across Germany, associations, churches, aid organizations, and volunteers organize free German courses, conversation groups, language cafés, and one-on-one language partnerships (tandem partners). These are incredibly valuable initiatives. While state-sponsored integration and vocational language courses are necessary, language is not learned solely in the classroom. To truly bring a language to life, one must engage in exchanges, share jokes, express personal concerns, accept invitations, and—over time—build friendships using that language.
For this reason, the phrase “Ohne Sprache keine Heimat” should not be understood merely as a warning directed at immigrants. An immigrant must learn the language of their new home; …but society, too, must open up human spaces where that language can be spoken.
Many immigrants wish to form close relationships with Germans but do not know how to initiate them. The strong emphasis on the private sphere in German society—where friendships develop slowly and people do not readily expand their existing social circles—can sometimes be perceived by immigrants as rejection. What Germans consider a normal sense of personal space may appear to immigrants as coldness.
For this reason, Germans, too, need to take the initiative from time to time. Inviting a new neighbor for coffee instead of merely greeting them on the stairs, asking a foreign colleague out to lunch, or getting to know the family of one’s child’s friend can make a significant difference. Immigrants should be viewed not merely as people in need of assistance, but as friends, colleagues, neighbors, and fellow citizens-in-the-making.
Integration does not mean an immigrant must abandon all their differences. Speaking one’s native language, practicing one’s religion, or maintaining ties to one’s country of origin does not prevent a person from belonging to society. The crucial issue is whether these identities turn into walls that isolate the individual from society.
Preserving one’s own culture is not the same as isolating oneself from society. Embracing German values is not the same as rejecting one’s past. Healthy integration is a process in which a person is not forced to choose between two worlds but bears a responsibility toward both.
There is a significant opportunity presented by this new wave of immigration. The educated immigrants arriving today need not repeat the isolation experienced by previous generations. Germany, for its part, is no longer laboring under the past misconception that “they will return home eventually.” These individuals will work here, raise their children, take on roles within institutions, and contribute to the country’s future.
However, for this to happen, both sides need to question their habits. Immigrants must step out of their safe circles, while Germans need to open the doors of their own established circles. Immigrants should not merely wait to be accepted, nor should Germans simply demand assimilation. Coming together begins with mutual curiosity. True integration becomes possible when people stop talking about one another and start talking with one another.
Perhaps the question to ask is not “How do immigrants integrate into German society?” That question frames the process as one-sided. The more accurate question is: How can the people living in Germany—regardless of their origins—move closer to one another?
We can only break the shell of integration together.
