Germany

The Berlin Bear

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Coming to Berlin, I was surprised to see so many bears. Bears, in Berlin? The fiberglass bears are on almost every block of the city. No one bear looks the same, either. Some bears are standing, some on four paws, and some are doing a crazy trick. Each one also has its own unique patterns that emphasize the location that it is at.

Why do bears represent a city that none call home? Well, there are theories. The most popular theories are that bears were very common in the geographic area that is modern-day Berlin, that “Bär” means bear in German and that the city of Bär-lin means city of the bear, or that it was named after Albert I von Ballenstädt, a famous warrior called Albert the Bear. Whether any of these hypotheses were true or not, the bear became the official crest of Berlin in 1280.

Berlin Bear outside of a tea shop in Berlin.

The Berlin Bear has become a staple of Berlin since its original introduction of the crest of Berlin. Today, the bears around Berlin may seem like a mere photo opportunity. While these bears look great in pictures, they mean much more. The modern Berlin Bear, or “Buddy Bear,” symbolizes tolerance and international understanding. The Buddy Bears welcome individuals from all walks of life to the city of Berlin.

Berlin Bear outside of a hotel in Berlin.

Coming to Terms with the Past

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Looking toward the lake

When we arrived at Wannsee, a longtime “getaway lake” for Berliners, I was immediately taken back by how familiar it looked to my ocean-side hometown.  Walking along the lake’s edge to hear water gently lapping against the dock, boats clinking against pylons, birds chirping, and a small outboard motor putting across the flat water was reminiscent of Merrick, New York.  The place was utterly peaceful it was.  Turning away from the lake, I was greeted by a beautiful villa surrounded by bright pink flowers.

It was at this seemingly peaceful location, however, that some of the most sinister documents in human history were created at the Wannsee Conference.  On January 20th, 1942, the 90-minute meeting took place, led by Reinhard Heydrich, to define the “Final Solution” to the “Jewish Question” of how to annihilate the Jews.  This conference defined “Jewishness” and what it means to be a “mixed blood” German (someone who had one Aryan and one Jewish parent or grandparent, for example), the Jewish demographic within different occupied countries, and how easily those Jewish populations could be dissolved.  Most disturbingly, however, was the ambiguity behind how this persecution would be carried out.  The documents do not mention the methods for which the “solution” was to be carried out, but do state that mass-deportations to “‘so-called’ ghettos”

The house on the hill

should be carried out at once in the occupied territories so as not to let the local populations become “apprehensive.”

The Wannsee Conference Building is today a memorial and museum.  Within its walls are a chronological display and explanation of anti-Semitism in Germany dating back to the 18th century as well information on the horrible atrocities and the people who committed them throughout the war.  The most striking part of the display, however, is the meticulous use of documents, images, and recordings from the Nazi-era to produce a numb and strictly fact-based museum.  In fact, the only touch of a personal narrative was through the explanation of three Jewish families’ stories throughout this period, from Kristallnacht to capitulation.

The displays within this museum and others in Germany are reminiscent of an idea that I have studied in previous classes known as Vergangenheitsbewältigung, or “coming to terms with the past.”  The process of overcoming guilt with the war is one that Germany has been forced to face.  They are stewards to their own history – a national shame that affects the world – and have come leaps and bounds in recognizing the horrible acts of Nazi Germany.  Whereas in the past the Nazi atrocities were simply not talked about, they are now displayed to the most minute detail.  In fact, it is even illegal in Germany to deny that the Holocaust happened.

These museums also prove that the German narrative of the war has no room for error.  No story can be embellished and no experience undermined.  In other nations, museum displays presented the historical narrative quite differently.  In Paris, France, at the Musée de l’Armée, the war was painted like a story with colorful verbiage inflating several events to mask the blow of defeat.  When describing the Battle of France in 1940, the museum said that, “The Maginot Line, even encircled, resisted at every attack and did not capitulate.”  Unlike in France, the Germans cannot inflate their war narrative and this shows in the fact that it is displayed in a very impersonal and emotionless manner.  Military heroes are few and far between, and the atrocities that were committed can only be depicted as rote fact.

Looking toward Wannsee

 

Wandering Berlin

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            To say that I loved being in Berlin is a gross understatement. When I stepped off the plane at Tegel airport, I joked around with Jose that I had come back to my people since all of my ancestry is German. I didn’t realize that I would really connect with this city the way I did during my time here. There’s certainly the possibility that I’ve felt most comfortable in Berlin because of the considerable influence the US had on the rebuilding of Berlin after the war. I’m absolutely positive that there was more to it than that. The people were incredibly friendly and also very encouraging of my rather poor attempts at speaking German. Like everywhere else we’ve been, the food was excellent (how many döners did we eat?). I truly fell in love with the feel and atmosphere in the city. It’s also the most difficult vibe to describe out of all of the cities we’ve been to. Whatever the reason, Berlin and I clicked.

          IMG_8501  You’d think that after a semester of taking classes where I learned about various aspects of World War II and nearly three weeks of actually visiting the sites where the war took place I would have most of my questions about the war answered. Berlin has raised some very interesting questions for me, and I doubt that I will ever actually find a good answer to most of them. The questions almost seemed intangible and hard to put into words when I first started to explore Berlin. I was incredibly taken aback by how straightforward the German Historical Museum was in depicting the crimes and wrongdoings of the German nation (not just Hitler and his henchmen) in the lead-up to and during the war. No detail was left out. Without warning, there were pictures of 18 Jewish Poles hanging in a town square as retribution for the death of two German soldiers. Models and pictures of Auschwitz, Chelmno, Majdanek, and other camps lined the walls of the museum to portray the atrocities committed by German people. I saw one quote printed on the wall of the German Resistance Museum that seemed to encompass what almost all WW2 museums in Berlin were trying to convey. In 1933, at the beginning of the Nazi era, Protestant minister Hermann Maas said, “Every German bears responsibility for Germany, no matter who he is or where he stands, in the homeland and abroad, in public and at home. No one can absolve him of this responsibility. He can transfer it to no one.” It seemed to me that the museum embodied this quote. Instead of only vilifying a single group of people (which they should be vilified), the museums portrayed how the entire German nation was at fault.

The ruins of Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church

The ruins of Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church

   As I thought on that idea, I started to sense the question forming, but I still wasn’t quite sure what it was. So, I continued to explore Berlin, and everywhere I looked was a reminder of the war. There were memorials tucked away on nearly every street it seemed. Bullet holes still pockmarked buildings that survived the war. Ruins of Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church still stand, but half had been destroyed by bombings in 1943. There are constant reminders of the war that make up the foundation of this city. I wholeheartedly believe that the victims of Nazi terror and the war should be memorialized and remembered. The lessons that can be learned from examining this history is critical to future populations. As I’ve gone through each city on this trip I’ve tried my best to put myself into the shoes of the English, the French, and the Germans and see how their perspectives or narratives differ from our own. So, as an American attempting to view the war as a German would I think I can finally begin to phrase the question: to be constantly surrounded be these reminders is it possible to become desensitized to the true meaning and importance? My question can really only ever be answered by those who have grown up in Berlin or Germany as a whole.  For me, these reminders have been incredibly powerful because they are not things that I get to see every day. What impact will this constant remembrance have on the generations growing up in Germany today? There are still more thoughts and questions rolling around in my head that I will be sure to be thinking about as I return home (with a short pit-stop in Helsinki first). This trip has been more thought-provoking and rewarding than I could have ever imagined, and I’m so sad these three weeks went by so fast. I could not have asked for a better way to end my time as an undergraduate at Ohio State.

Tschüß,

Megan