I don’t think any European city conjures up as much imagery and emotion as Berlin. Our visit, although brief, did not disappoint. Our arrival coincided with the hosting of the Euro football final between England and Spain, so Day One was less about traditional Berlin than joining in the excitement. Exiting the metro at the Brandenburg Gate, we emerged into a sea of British fans who had congregated outside the bars singing raucously, beers in one hand and filming themselves with their mobile phones in the other.
The ground was littered with discarded beer bottles, and a dozen black clad policemen and women stood silently watching close by.
Trying to escape the throng and make our way to one of the fan zones we wandered down a side street and passed a procession of dignified older men, dressed in matador costumes and waving Spanish flags in a processional march to Toreador music. The contrast with the British fans couldn’t have been greater. Another sight that made me smile was the British fans speeding along the road on the various city scooters, their St. George’s Cross flags worn as capes flapping in the breeze behind them.
It was a good evening, despite England not getting the best result. The mix of nationalities that had come to watch: the locals, Germans and a mix of other nationalities, the English and Spanish fans all rubbed along together fine.
It seemed poignant to me that a city that was once the source of division and revulsion from the rest of Europe, was now hosting a Europe-wide sporting event, where there was a friendly, celebratory atmosphere.
How wonderful to be there to take in this moment, this victory for a free, democratic country.
Waking up to a quieter Berlin
The next day we woke up to a tidier and quieter city where the dozens of empty beer bottles that had littered the streets had miraculously vanished, along with the fans, save it be for a few fellow sightseers.
We started our day’s excursions with a visit to the Deutsches Historisches Museum. The main museum was closed for renovations, but a special exhibit called “Roads Not Taken” was open. This explored key points in German history where events could easily have gone in another direction, highlighting the sometimes seemingly inconsequential factors that can determine an outcome.
My history teacher husband was well acquainted with most of scenarios that were explored, but enjoyed learning one or two new details, such as Stalin’s proposal to reunify Germany that was turned down in 1952. For me, being not so much of a history buff, there was a lot to take in. Items I found interesting were original footage of the speech that led to the coming down of the Berlin Wall, and TV footage of the crowds amassing at the border crossing shortly after.
Everyone was very polite, waiting patiently for the guards to figure out what to do. There was an air of excitement and anticipation as people could move freely through the checkpoint. The historical ‘what could have been’ point made was that the peaceful protests that had been slowly building through some German cities in the months preceding that night could have been like a spark to a tinder box.
These events were in the shadow of protests in China that had ended brutally, when armies had fired on crowds protesting in a similar peaceful way. The fear was that the same thing could happen in Germany. The fact that the wall came down without a single shot being fired is a testament to the power of peaceful protest, and that sometimes, in the end, forces for good can slowly and steadily rise-up to take the place of what was there before.
Check Point Charlie
No visit to Berlin is complete without a visit to Checkpoint Charlie, and after the museum this was our next stop. Seeing remnants of the wall and how it so arbitrarily snaked through city streets, cutting off shop-fronts from their passing customer trade, separating rows of houses from their neighbours, makes me think that using forcible means such as walls to separate people never seems like a good idea.
Such a random place – the middle of what would have been a busy city junction – Checkpoint Charlie was the focal point of a stand-off between American and Russian tanks at the only official entry point into West Berlin. Residents could have a day pass to enter east Berlin, to visit family or friends, but no one could leave east Berlin to go to the west.
This was all because Germany, in its post war state, was divided into four areas, with the French, British, US and Russians looking after different zones. The Russians wanted to keep the practice of communist rule in their section, which couldn’t work with an open border because everyone would leave.
The subsequent disagreement led to the Russians putting up the wall, thus dividing Berlin in two. This removal of freedoms that sprung up overnight in the aftermath of a war seems bizarre. The nearest we have experienced in my life is the global pandemic, and how that closed borders and restricted freedoms, although rarely at the risk of a bullet. In the time the wall stood, there were many escape attempts of people fleeing from east to west, and many that were shot in such attempts.
From Checkpoint Charlie, we wandered to what is called the Topography of Terror, the site of the original SS and Gestapo headquarters. Amidst all the displays and personal stories, I was struck by a folder containing letters from ordinary citizens reporting on their friends, acquaintances or even family members for so-called “suspicious activities.”
The Gestapo’s influence was broader than their actual reach, due to the fear they engendered into everyone in the population. The population did the work for them.
An afternoon boat tour took us along the river Spree that runs through central Berlin, the commentary filling in the blanks we had about the government buildings that had deliberately been built to span both east and west banks of the river as a powerful symbol once Germany was reunified.
Known as the Band des Bundes – the Federal Ribbon – they are a fascinating mixture of modern architecture and German history. Bridges linked the government buildings on each side of the bank, a footbridge for the public and above it a footbridge for government workers. The contrast between the old domed buildings, in the classic style, against the modern structures with clean lines works – each compliments the other.
We sailed past the Museum Island at the other end of central Berlin housing many grand historical buildings. Later that evening we walked some of the river route and enjoyed seeing the community buzz that existed along the modern central stretch of the river. Dance groups with couples practicing their salsa and tango dotted along the river, giving a lovely openly communal feel to the space. A new and open Berlin, in contrast to the years of secrets and shadows.
The highlight of the evening, which we stumbled across, was a free viewing of a film with accompanying light show, projected onto one of the government buildings. An impressive structure, it looked more like an art gallery akin to the Tate Modern. This sharp cornered building featured a large circle design which was ideal as the main screen. The steps on the opposite river-bank formed a natural amphitheatre, and we joined the crowds that sat there waiting for the dusky viewing.
This was a film to commemorate 75 years of democracy. The film gave a stunning review of the history and events that led to democracy in Germany from the end of the war to present day. I was impressed by the scores of young people in the audience. This testament to the importance of democracy and how hard it had been for Germany to get there formed a strong reminder for the younger generation to not take democracy for granted. I remember the Berlin Wall coming down in 1989, I was 19.
What was interesting to me was that it was only a year from that date that Germany was unified into one country, and that the Germany that we know today was born. This does not seem that long ago. Key decisions such as whether to keep the capital of Germany as Bonn, as it had been designated in the post war period, or whether to rebuild a new capital from the rubble in Berlin had to be made.
It was shared how the MP’s debated this long and hard until a decision was reached. The Reichstag, the German Houses of Parliament, that was set on fire at the beginning of the third Reich in 1933, was rebuilt, with a huge central glass dome dominating the square structure, designed to show transparency. It was in the shadow of that building that we were now seated, learning about the historical events that had shaped the character of this city with its mix of old and new.
We left with our minds full, but with more to see on a future visit. There are many more museums, including the Jewish Museum Berlin, which was closed on this visit, that we would very much like to see.
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See more about Berlin here in Dispatches’ archives.
Rachel Arts
Rachel Arts originally is from the UK but relocated to Eindhoven in 2019 with her husband. Rachel is an entrepreneur. Her business, Talentstorm, draws on her 20-plus years in corporate learning to help develop individuals and organisations. Rachel writes about her start-up life at rachelsround-up.com.