Berlin - When Gerson Liebl arrived from the West African state of Togo to press his claim for German citizenship, little did he realize he would still be battling bureaucracy 17 years later. He was, after all, grandson of the late Dr Friedrich Karl Georg Liebl, a noted specialist in tropical diseases who before World War I was employed at the Nightingale Hospital in Lome, Togo.
After arriving in Germany in 1991, Gerson applied for permission to work while waiting for his claim to be dealt with, and visited his "German" relatives in Straubing, Bavaria, where his grandfather had lived and worked most of his life.
Then things started to go badly wrong. German authorities rejected his citizenship application and he was later ordered to leave the country, along with his wife and son.
When he failed to comply, police raided his apartment. Liebl panicked and, according to police, had to be wrestled to the floor and handcuffed.
He was given a nine-months suspended jail sentence for resisting arrest, but later the conviction was overturned when it was revealed that police had no arrest warrant at the time they detained him.
German authorities had argued that Gerson's father, Johann Liebl, had never possessed German citizenship, nor did he qualify for it under colonial law in force in Togo at the time, having been an illegitimate child.
This strict interpretation of the law has drawn criticism from some human rights activists and legal experts who talk of "questionable" early colonial regulations.
"It seems I have wasted the best years of my life wrangling with the German authorities. Their logic defeats me at times," says Gerson. "I have a German name, and am a bone fide descendant of my grandfather. What more must I prove."
The story surrounding his application dates back to the reign of Kaiser Wilhelm II when Togo was a German protectorate. Working as a government medical officer in Lome, Liebl's grandfather fell in love with the daughter of a local chieftain.
The couple had a son, Johann, who was born in 1910. They were "wed" in Anecho, Togo, at a traditional African style tribal ceremony - not as German legal experts noted later in a church or German registry office under colonial law.
Dr Liebl had realized his love affair might cause a stir back home. In a hasty note to his mother, he wrote: "Don't be alarmed. I won't return with a coloured daughter-in-law.
"The ceremony is a mere formality which has no further significance." Subsequently, on returning to Germany, Edith, his African bride, and son were left behind.
Five years later the doctor married a German woman with whom he had three children, one of them named Fritz Liebl, who like his father would later become a doctor.
As for Edith, she would later marry a local man in Lome and have several more children.
The story of Dr Liebl's 1909-10 love affair in Africa remained a secret until 1973 when Fritz, fascinated by his father's stories about life in the tropics, decided to pay a visit to Togo.
He took with him photos his father had kept until his death, including one of an African woman, with a boy shyly standing by her side.
On the flight to Africa, Fritz Liebl chatted with a Togolese diplomat returning home from a spell in Germany. "What a coincidence, I know someone by the name of Johann Liebl who lives in Lome," confided the envoy.
The news intrigued the doctor, who made a point of calling at Johann Liebl's home on arrival in Lome - only to learn that just a few hours earlier he had died after a lengthy illness.
Profusely apologizing to Johann's widow and five children, one of whom was Gerson Liebl, he was about to leave when his attention was drawn to a framed photograph on the living room wall.
It was identical to one kept by his father. In a flash, Fritz realized that the person who had died earlier that day was his previously unknown half-brother, Johann.
Gerson Liebl never forgot the doctor's visit and vowed he would fly to Europe to claim German citizenship when he grew up. When he finally did so his dreams were swiftly dashed.
Worse, he found himself snarled in a series of disputes in Germany over unemployment and child benefit allowances. Liebl and his wife have both worked periodically in Germany, but have never been able to find permanent employment.
While he now has permission to remain in Germany on a permanent basis, his troubles with German officialdom have, he says, "soured" his years in this country.
Anxious to draw attention to his plight, Liebl recently moved to the German capital with his wife and son, Johann, who is now eight years old.
"I want that my son goes to school in Berlin. But a problem has arisen registering him," explains Liebl, who now plans to take his case to parliament's Petition Committee, set up to deal with foreigners' grievances.
