26 May 1940: The ten-day Battle of Dunquerque which would culminate in the flight of Allied forces from France across the North Sea to the British mainland began on this day in history.
After the winter-long stalemate nicknamed the ‘Phoney War,’ the German Army had moved with astonishing speed – not least, new research concludes, due to the quantity of amphetamines they were consuming – and meticulous planning, occupy the Low Countries and bypass the Maginot Line on which France had relied.
The capitulation of France within weeks had marked for Germany one of the most spectacular military victories in world history. As the Germans ploughed on toward Southern France and the calamity worsened, both French troops and the British Expeditionary Force found their efforts at counter-attacks frustrated and, to evade total encirclement, were compelled to retreat.
After a visit to Paris left him dismayed by the despondent state of French high command, Churchill began planning ‘Operation Dynamo,’ the evacuation of 338,000 troops by sea. Civilian fishing vessels and lifeboats (the ‘little ships’) were pressed into action to assist the Royal Navy.
The soldiers, strafed by the Luftwaffe, abandoned their weaponry and leapt homewards. Thousands of French troops were captured, to become prisoners of war. Almost all the best troops Britain and France had to offer had been either evacuated to the United Kingdom or had been killed.
The Germans sliced their way south, toward Paris, like a knife through butter.
Yet the successful evacuation of hundreds of thousands led the Battle of Dunkirk – described by Churchill as a ‘miracle’ – to be received as a success back at home. Following the German capitulation in 1945, Dunkirk become emblematic of an indomitable British fortitude – and pluckiness.
In the latest edition of our Berlin Guides Association Berlin Long Reads series, BBS member Campbell Bews explores the rift between the SPD and KPD – from ideological cracks to the conflicts, betrayal and violence of politics in the Weimar Republic.
A column of swastika-helmeted troops snakes into a dark Berlin. Their boots clap loudly on the cobblestones as they march in tight formation through the Brandenburg Gate and close in on the Reichstag. They lower the flag of the Republic and replace it with their own, deposing the elected government. Workers who awake to see the takeover heckle the paramilitaries and are fired on in reply. The sun rises on a Berlin under occupation. The date is the 11th of March 1920, the ‘Kapp Putsch’ had just begun.
Their forceful occupation of Berlin allowed the Free Corps (returning WWI proto-fascist militias) to seize the capital but not to hold it. The forces on the left, united in opposition, mobilise against it. Social Democrats, Communists, and trade unionists cannot prevent the military takeover, but they can deny their labour. A general strike brings the usually bustling city to a standstill, as trains refuse to move, the electricity is turned off and the economy grinds to a halt. Wolfgang Kapp, the eponymous putsch leader threatens, begs and attempts to bribe them back to work, but to no avail. With declining prospects, Kapp negotiates a surrender. The united left has defeated the coup in less than 100 hours.
The Kapp Putsch stands as a mirror opposite to the Hitler seizure of power 13 years later. Instead of fighting a united front, Hitler was faced with a fractured left-wing opposition, which he was easily able to overcome. The strength of the left was similarly powerful in both Kapp’s and Hitler’s seizure of power. In the 1920 election (held three months after the coup) the SPD, Independent SPD and Communists (KPD) won a total of just under 42% – a near high point for the Weimar Republic. In the 1933 election (held just after the Reichstag fire, under suppression by the Nazi led government), the SPD and KPD won just under 31% – a drop but still a broad coalition of the population. Added to the left’s strength were their own armed groups, returned WWI soldiers councils in the 20’s and party paramilitary groups Iron Front (SPD) and Alliance of Red Front-Fighters (KPD) in the 30’s. Undoubtedly Kapp and General Lüttwitz were not as tightly organised as the Nazis, but they may have succeeded had the left not so vigorously opposed them.
So why was there no coordinated opposition against Hitler? A simple answer would be that there was very little coordination. Even on the day that Hitler was sworn in as chancellor, the majority of the SPD executive committee dismissed an alliance with communists, fearing they would co-opt the resistance and draw away their supporters. The KPD on the other hand, made little to no distinction between the Nazis and the ‘social fascists’ in the SPD. It is clear that between the two right-wing coups there emerged an unbreachable gap between the two left-wing parties. This piece will explore how this rift came about, beginning with ideological cracks within the SPD of the German Empire and pushed further apart by the conflicts, betrayal and violence of Weimar Politics.
1871 – 1914 Big tent of the SPD
Communists and social democrats were all contained within the broad church of the SPD during Bismarck’s German Empire (1871 – 1918). Due to the Party’s appeal to the urban proletariat, their support grew in lock step with the German Empire’s own rapid industrialisation. On the eve of the First World War in 1914, they had 1,085,905 members, 90 daily newspapers and were the largest political party in the Reichstag. However, the system created by Otto von Bismarck ensured that the reins of power remained in the hands of the conservative Prussian military aristocracy, so while the SPD were able to (often indirectly) influence policy, they could never truly govern.
Without the pressure of governing, they could focus on building a party bureaucracy and managing internal ideological disputes. Like many traditional labour movements, it was divided much between its ‘minimalist’ and ‘maximalist’ wings of the party. The ‘minimalists’ favored winning gradual improvements for working people within Germany by working within the system and winning voters at the ballot box. They occupied much of the bureaucracy of the party and therefore the leadership, such as union leader turned party chairman, Friedrich Ebert. On the other end of the spectrum were the ‘maximalists’ who favored global solidarity with the working class and Marxist revolution to overcome the system, which featured prominent leaders Karl Liebknecht and Rosa Luxemburg. But while the gap between their political outlooks was extreme, their collective commitment to the party’s ethos of debate settled by compromise and common cause meant the party’s frictions stayed within the party. That was until the earthquake of the First World War.
1914 – 1918 SPD at war: Nationalism or Socialism?
Whether to support or oppose the war was the most momentous decision in the SPD’s history and created an impossible split between the two factions. According to maximalist socialist doctrine, maintaining international solidarity among workers was a paramount, so therefore an imperialist war was unthinkable. However, the minimalists understood that in 1914 Germany, the war was seen as a righteous defence of the German fatherland. If they committed themselves to principled socialist opposition, they would jeopardise their gradual gains and doom themselves to electoral suicide and state repression. The high tide of war washed away almost all opposition. Voting to approve war credits, SPD co-Chairman Hugo Haase declared: “We will not desert our fatherland in its hour of need.” The party leadership agreed to a suspension of regular politics out of national solidarity, effectively aligning with the militaristic state and neutering their opposition.
Many of the ‘maximalists’ were disgusted by their party’s capitulation. Their response was limited by state and SPD repression. When they called for strikes and an end to the war in 1914-15, the party imposed new editors for their papers and the police jailed their leaders. Karl Liebknecht, who voiced his opposition in the Reichstag to financing the war in December 1914, would have his parliamentary immunity revoked and he was later jailed. His incarceration did not stop his organising, as he and Rosa Luxemburg would found the group eventually known as ‘The Spartacists’. In the January 1916 charter, Luxemburg pushed against the SPD’s support of the war and called it a ‘betrayal’, but believed in taking over the party rather than beginning anew.
The War became the fulcrum point for relative popularity within the workers movement. While the war went well, the institutional minimalists held sway, but as it became a bloody quagmire, the maximalists began to predominate among workers. In this way, both factions were strapped to a horse of which they had little control. Each year the First World War dragged on, the circumstances tilted in the maximalists’ favor. Every winter brought new misery, as the turnips replaced potatoes and sawdust replaced flour. In 1916, Germany produced 23 million tonnes of potatoes (half of their pre-war crop), and by 1917 the general population was only receiving 1000 calories a day – 40% less than at the start of the war. Despite deteriorating conditions, the German Army was on the verge of victory on the Eastern front and Chairman Ebert clung to the hope that victory on the battlefield would solve the crisis.
The German defeat of the Tsarist regime, the Revolution and the subsequent treaty of Brest-Litovsk would instead have the opposite effect Ebert intended, helping the revolution spread into Germany. The victory of the Bolsheviks in the October Revolution and the toppling of the Tsar shifted the centre of socialist politics from the institutional gradualism of Berlin to the revolutionary Marxist-Leninism of Moscow. This influence would be particularly important for the later KPD as their policy became almost entirely dictated by the Soviet Union. The focus on national politics within the SPD was viewed with disdain by Lenin, who saw an international revolution as inevitable.
Shortly after victory in the October Revolution, the Bolsheviks set about spreading propaganda into the POW camps of the Imperial Germany Army. They released these 165,000 soldiers back into Germany to spread revolution. A wave of propaganda flooded west from Russia – even Soviet ambassador Adolf Joffe arrived in Berlin with a briefcase stuffed with revolutionary pamphlets. This agitation of the workers would bear fruit. When Germany erupted into revolution in 1918, the revolutionary slogan of ‘peace and bread’ and demands to form workers and soldiers collectives would be on many lips.
1918 – 19 Revolution and consolidation: Two views of Weimar
The 1918 German Revolution unleashed by mutinous sailors in November spread like a contagion infecting workers, soldiers and then the population at large. It was a movement united against the German Empire and the war, but not on which system would replace it. On the 9th of November, Kaiser Wilhelm abdicated, which left the leaders of the SPD and the Spartacists attempting to get in front of events and direct them. From the balcony of the City Palace Karl Liebknecht declared a socialist republic; from a window of the Reichstag Philip Scheidemann (SPD) declared just a republic. In the throes of their own revolution, the Russian Revolution loomed large. Ebert was at pains to consolidate the toppling of the Kaiser into a liberal democratic republic, and prevent a further ‘social revolution’ which he professed to ‘hate like sin.’ Rosa Luxemburg saw the inclusion of the liberal parties as proof that the SPD had become ‘lackeys of the bourgeoisie.’ The Spartacists aimed for social revolution, which included the expropriation of property from major businesses and land from the major estates. They pledged to not do so by force ‘except in response to the clear, unambiguous will of the great majority of the proletarian mass of all of Germany.’ The fight over the Great War was over, but the SPD and Spartacists seamlessly shifted to another binary struggle, whether to support or overthrow the liberal republic.
While the two parties had competing aims, they had wildly different resources to achieve them. As the largest pre-war party, the SPD had an established press organisation, leadership among the unions, clear hierarchical power structures within the party and leaders within the union movement throughout Germany. They did not seek to find common cause with their former left wing allies and instead used this power to present the Spartacists as the worst excesses of the Russian revolution. One SPD leaflet claimed they would “incite the people deeper and deeper into a civil war, and strangle the right of free speech with their dirty hands.” The Spartacists on the other hand were a new and diverse coalition; a far left faction first within the SPD then the Independent Social Democrats (USPD – a wing of pacifist SPD members who had broken from the party in 1916) and by December 1918 a faction of the newly established Communist Party (KPD). They drew their strength from the demobilised soldiers and young people who flocked to their rallies hungry for action. A number of hardliners within the SPD advocated provoking these supporters and took the provocative step of attempting to remove their leftist choice of Berlin police chief. Pushed by the SPD and their radical supporters, Karl Liebknecht felt that waiting until the majority of the proletariat was on their side was untenable. When Spartacists called for rebellion on the 7th of January they could command 500,000 protestors but their lack of organisation meant they could only command a few thousand armed supporters scattered throughout Berlin.
The Spartacist uprising and its subsiquent defeat and murder of Karl Liebknecht and Rosa Luxemburg in January 1919 (covered brilliantly by my colleague here) would make enemies of their rivals on the left. The SPD’s accommodation of big business, the army and liberal parties to establish the Weimar Republic left it with few friends to their left flank to support them politically against the Spartacists. Looking right, Ebert instead turned to the power of the army to crush the uprising. A combination of Free Corps (right wing militias) and regular army units were given the order and flooded into Berlin. Spartacist rebels occupying buildings were shelled into submission and then given no quarter as their leadership were sent scattering. Through likely torture of a confidant, the locations of Luxemburg and Liebknecht were revealed. Once the Free Corps had seized their enemies, they were never going to be allowed to leave alive. They were brutally murdered on the 16th of January, less than two weeks after the rebellion had begun. Ebert had managed to save his republic, but only by sacrificing his former comrades to anti-republican right wing militarists. Their blood would always stand between cooperation between Communists and Social Democrats.
1919 – 1923 Early KPD: ‘Theory of the offensive’ and the ‘United Front’
The destruction of the Spartacists further motivated the KPD to overthrow the Weimar system, but their righteous fury was not entirely shared by their voters. Many workers did not support further revolution, as shown by the Berlin union workers from AEG, Schwartzkopff and other factories who met in Humboldthain to call for an end to the Spartacist uprising, in favor of inter-left solidarity. Even after the uprising’s bloody end, the SPD base within the unionised workforce remained steadily behind them. Workers remained loyal to the party they had always voted for and in the 1919 Federal Elections the SPD had their best ever showing of nearly 38%. Despite this, the KPD were encouraged by the Comintern (the communist international organisation dominated and funded by Moscow) to attempt to follow a ‘theory of the offensive’, and wait for an opportunity to overthrow the government. One such opportunity came after they had combined with the USPD and SPD to defeat the Kapp Putsch in 1920. A 50,000 strong ‘Ruhr Red Army’ of KPD workers, having participated in the general strike, refused to demobilise which led to Ebert again calling in the army. The Ruhr uprising was followed the next year by the ‘March Action’, which featured an attempted general strike and several uprisings throughout the country. These local movements lacked national support to bring about revolution and were again crushed by the army. Voters did not respond well to what many saw as attempted coups. The 1921 ‘March Action’ particularly damaged their reputation and cost the party nearly half of its supporters in a matter of months.
Fearing a further erosion of support, the KPD shifted away from the ‘theory of the offensive’ towards a ‘united front’ policy seeking inter-left solidarity. The two years between 1921-23 and a brief moment in 1926 saw the golden period of cooperation between the members of the communists and social democrats. This realignment was in part to increase their support but also a response to the increasing threat of right-wing terror, as paramilitary groups like the Organisation Consul assassinated over 350 opponents in the early Weimar period. Their 1922 murder of foreign minister Walter Rathenau prompted seething outrage and mobilisation of millions of republicans and leftists who rallied throughout Germany to condemn the violence. The KPD led a push to unite with the SPD and USPD to protect the republic against rightist terror, which was labeled the ‘Berlin Agreement’. Furthermore, the KPD was able to influence many SPD members to support the 1926 referendum to expropriate the nobilities’ land without compensation (reminiscent of the contemporary Deutsche Wohnung enteignen campaign). The SPD leadership were sceptical, but were pushed to support the movement by the popularity of the idea with their supporters. The referendum gathered 14.5 million votes but fell a few million votes short of succeeding. This initiative and the Berlin Agreement demonstrated that even after the murder of Liebknecht and Luxemburg, a policy of inter-left cooperation was effective at mobilising for common goals and against shared enemies. Unfortunately, this was a brief phase and changes within the Communist Party would undermine further coalitions.
1924 -25 The rise of ‘Social Facism’
The Communist Party of Germany was born in the shadow of the Russian Revolution and as such, was always heavily influenced and funded by the Soviet Union. With Lenin’s death in 1924, however, it increasingly came under the iron grip of Joseph Stalin. The Comintern had always encouraged world revolution, but was transformed into a tool for Soviet Union foreign policy goals. From 1925, Stalin was concerned with the Weimar Republic’s financial reliance and closer ties with the capitalist West. He purged intellectuals from the ‘right’ faction of the KPD who proposed solidarity with the SPD in favor of leaders who would shift course with Stalin’s whims. The former dock worker turned firebrand communist organiser, Ernst Thälmann was such a man.
Thälmann became party secretary in 1925, and hardened the rhetoric against the SPD who he labeled ‘social fascists’ at every opportunity. He took his cues from the Comintern’s 1924 assertion that: ‘fascism and social democracy are two sides of the same instrument of big capitalist dictatorship’. This was more than a rhetorical shift. In the 1925 second Presidential Election (following the death of Friedrich Ebert), the pro-Weimar Parties decided to unite behind the Christian Centre candidate Wilhelm Marx against the rightist monarchist, general Paul von Hindenburg. The right faction within the KPD counseled that they should not run a candidate in order to not split the left wing vote. However Thälmann overruled them and decided to stand for election, winning 2 million votes. Wilhelm Marx was therefore denied the KPD support, and lost to Hindenburg by a margin of 750,000 votes. Thälmann’s equivalence between social democracy and fascism meant that he did not see the danger in handing the Weimar Presidency to a militarist who would eventually give the keys of power to Adolf Hitler.
1929 – 1933 NSDAP Rising: The approaching storm
As the storm of Great Depression would begin to sink the Weimar Republic, and the monster of National Socialists (NSDAP) would emerge, and the divisions within the left would deepen. The NSDAP made a sudden re-entry into politics in the 1930 elections when they took 18% of the vote and from then on they would (almost) always increase this share. Their popularity led to thousands joining their SA militia as they sought battle with their enemies on the left. Ernst Thälmann was energised by the street battles against the Nazis on one hand, whilst on the other sharing their aims of bringing down the Weimar Republic. They formed a voting block with the NSDAP to bring down the SPD Prussian state government and a motion of no confidence against Heinrich Brüning, two decisions that greatly favored the Nazis. Thälmann assumed that the Nazi toppling of the republic would usher his party to power. As he said in 1932: “Hitler must come to power first, then the requirements for a revolutionary crisis [will] arrive more quickly.” It was comments like this that led some in the SPD to treat communists and Nazis with equivalence. Leader Otto Wels declared in 1931 “Bolshevism and fascism are brothers. They are based upon violence, upon dictatorship, even if they may still appear socialist and radical.” The SPD attempted to thwart the Nazis by working with any democratic parties in the Reichstag, but as more anti-republicans were elected, their choice of potential allies declined. This led to the strange proposition of supporting the candidacy of Hindenburg (the lesser evil) against Adolf Hitler in the 1932 presidential election. Intransigence on both sides meant concentrating on the wrong foe, all while the right grew in strength.
With the depression worsening in 1932 and the system fraying under an endless round of elections, the left had one last chance to resist before their destruction. An ‘Urgent Call for Unity’ was demanded in a letter by public intellectuals including prominent artist Käthe Kollwitz, and writer Heinrich Mann calling for a ‘united front’ within the KPD and SPD. Communists from outside the Comintern supported this view, such as exiled Russian revolutionary Leon Trotsky, who called for ‘a comprehensive and systematic general offensive’, asserting that Thälmann’s ‘united front from below’ (grassroots action with SPD voters but not the party) was not enough to resist fascism. Within the SPD, there was growing panic with the situation. Friedrich Stampfer, a member of the executive committee and previous anti-communist, began to advocate for a common front. He attempted to go straight to the source of political power and carry out negotiations with Soviet Ambassador Chintschuk, aiming to normalize relations with the KPD. However they came to nought. There was one massive roadblock preventing a final, last ditch defense against Fascism; the intransigence of Joseph Stalin. According to historian Robert C. Tucker, Stalin viewed the SPD’s foreign policy preference for Britain and France as a larger threat to the Soviet Union than a potential fascist Germany. He was the architect of the KPD’s aloofness to an alliance. This decision would be a massive blunder in the short term, with the complete annihilation of the KPD, and in the medium term, when Hiter’s armies came close to doing the same to the Soviet Union. When Thälmann finally opened his eyes to the threat of fascism it was too late. KPD leadership penned an open letter to mobilise with the SPD on the 27th of February 1933. The next day the Reichstag would burn and within a week the majority of these men would be in concentration camps or exile.
The strength of the Fascist movement in the 1930s was such that their eventual victory even at the time seemed inevitable. Inter-left solidarity was a slim hope but it was all they had. The leadership of the SPD can be held mostly responsible for turning a factional rivalry into a heated feud, when they provoked and then violently ended the Spartacist uprising. It was the influence of the Comintern on the KPD, however, which made any practical healing of this rift impossible. Stalin made a calculated trade-off; destroy the Capitalist Weimar Republic in exchange for sacrificing the KPD to the nascent Nazi state. There are contemporary parallels that can be drawn from this sorry history. We live in an age of growing authoritarianism and unprecedented economic and ecological challenges and yet building political coalitions has rarely been more elusive. An intensive focus on personal and ideological differences often means we are unable to see common goals and combat mutual threats. The communist and social democrat rivalry is one of the many examples of just how ruinous this can be.
On Tuesday 18th May 2021, members of the Berlin Guides Association seized a very special opportunity: an online encounter with Joachim Neumann, a witness to the history of the Berlin Wall who took part in the building of several escape tunnels underneath it. In the 90-minute session, Neumann gave us a fascinating account of the challenges of the ‘conspiratorial’ activities, the moral implications and the tunnel-building itself.
After leaving East Germany with a ‘borrowed’ Swiss passport in late 1961, Neumann became part of a group of young people in West Berlin who dedicated much of their free time to helping other East Germans to escape from the GDR. They started out as just eight like-minded people, mostly close friends or relatives. The tunnels they built were improvised, narrow and often unstable. Neumann, being a student of civil engineering at Berlin’s Technical University, was in charge of planning & construction.
Over 130m long, they went underneath the Berlin wall, the border fortifications and the restricted-access residential zones close-by. Many of the escape helpers had personal motives for digging up to 10m deep into the Berlin soil, like wanting to help friends who had stayed behind. In Neumann’s case it was his wife-to-be (who had been arrested and imprisoned for over a year in the GDR after her first failed escape attempt).
He managed to get her out, together with 56 other people through the famous “Tunnel 57”.
The escape helpers relied on a large informal support network, among them the messengers who had to get information to people in East Berlin waiting for a chance to escape. These couriers had to be foreigners or Germans from West Germany, as West Berliners were generally not allowed to visit the other part of the city in the 1960s.
In his later life as an engineer, Neumann specialised in this field of construction and was even involved in the building of the Channel Tunnel between England and France!
22 April 1945: On this day in Berlin history, KZ Sachsenhausen– recognized as the nearest concentration camp to the city of Berlin- was liberated by the Soviet Army. There, Soviet and Polish troops found approximately 3,400 prisoners, most of them seriously ill.
On the day prior to liberation – in order to avoid being surrounded by the oncoming Soviet army – the remaining concentration camp guards left Sachsenhausen taking approximately 33,000 prisoners on a death march in the direction of the Ostsee.
Despite the best efforts of military doctors and other former prisoners, at least 300 of the prisoners liberated by the Soviet Army at Sachsenhausen died in the months following their liberation due to the effects of extreme malnutrition and other medical conditions related to their incarceration.
Almost immediately, the Soviet Army began investigating the crimes that had been committed at Sachsenhausen. One of the most significant figures brought to justice as a result of their investigation was the last commandant of Sachsenhausen, Anton Kaindl who was sentenced at the Soviet military tribunals in Berlin-Pankow in November 1947.
Kaindl was responsible, not only for organizing the 1945 death march from Sachsenhausen, but also for the death of an estimated 30-35,000 of prisoners from Sachsenhausen. These people were either executed in and around the main camp of Sachsenhausen, at sub-camps or transported to other camps specifically to be murdered during the “camp clearances” from February to April of 1945.
Kaindl died during his imprisonment in a labour camp in the Soviet Union in 1948.
The process of bringing the perpetrators of Sachsenhausen Concentration Camp to justice is a process which continues into 2021. On February 8th of this year, an unnamed former guard was charged with 3518 counts of accessory to murder during his time as a guard there from 1942-1945.
This edition of On This Day in Berlin History was contributed by Berlin Guides Association member, Elizabeth Mason. It’s one of four events she has chosen to remember this month. Keep an eye on our blog to see what else makes the cut.
11 April 1968: On this day in Berlin history, at approximately 4.35pm, Rudi Dutschke, figurehead of the student protest movement, was shot 3 times while leaving his home at 140 Kurfürstendamm in West Berlin.
He was on his way to the local pharmacy to fetch some medicine for his 3-month-old son. He was first shot in the cheek which knocked him off his bicycle, and then while on the ground, Dutschke was shot twice more in the head and shoulder.
His attempted assassin was identified as Josef Bachmann, a 23-year-old blue-collar worker originally from Saxony, with ties to an active Neo-Nazi group at the time. After shooting Dutschke, Bachmann fled the scene and attempted to commit suicide in a nearby basement by taking sleeping pills before being captured by the police. Dutschke was brought to the Westend hospital in critical condition but ultimately survived the attack.
Dutschke’s attempted assassination shocked both moderates as well as those would emerge as extremist elements within the student protest movement. An attack on Dutschke, someone who transcended the different groups within the student protest movement, was seen as an attack on them all.
Anger was particularly aimed against the Axel-Springer group who were seen as responsible for Dutschke’s attack. It was believed that the demonization of the student protest movement- being portrayed as terroristic and the Trojan horse of communism, directly lead to his attempted assassination.
As the spokesman of the SDS (Sozialistischer Deutscher Studentenbund) and founder of the APO (Außerparlamentarische Opposition), Dutschke- became a particular focus of Springer media attacks and was labelled as “Red Rudi.”
The same night, approximately 2000 protestors descended on the Axel-Springer building on Kochstrasse, near Checkpoint Charlie. The protest soon turned into a riot with some participants throwing cobblestones breaking the windows, while others set Springer delivery trucks on fire with Molotov cocktails.
This edition of On This Day in Berlin History was contributed by Berlin Guides Association member, Elizabeth Mason. It’s one of four events she has chosen to remember this month. Keep an eye on our blog to see what else makes the cut.
Just because you can’t join us in-person doesn’t mean you can’t get a taste of the city’s history and culture from home. With that in mind, we asked our members to tell us some of their favourite films set in Berlin.
Though most found it difficult to choose just one, they did not disappoint. Our shortlist includes madcap comedies and oppressive dramas, films set on both sides of the Wall and all over the city (especially the last one!).
Read on for six of the best films set in Berlin, as recommended by Berlin tour guides.
Three Films Set in East Berlin
Das Leben der Anderen / The Lives of Others (2006)
Although he was born outside of East Germany and was only 16 when the Wall fell, Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck made his directorial debut with this highly authentic and incredibly personal film about Stasi surveillance. The film was applauded internationally, even winning the 2006 Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film. Georgia Riungu:“One of my all-time favourite University classes was called ‘Perceptions of National Identity in German Cinema’. That’s when I first saw the utterly gripping Das Leben der Anderen – I was totally blown away!”
Top Secret! (1984)
Action comedy Top Secret! comes from the makers of Airplane. Nick Rivers (Val Kilmer) is an American rock star who’s been sent to the DDR to perform in a festival. Little does he know the whole event has been organised by the East German government in order to divert attention from a military plot to reunite Germany under their rule… Nadav Gablinger: “This is the movie of my childhood. It has (almost) no connection to reality, but it has given me many hours of laughter.”
Goodbye, Lenin! (2003)
Wolfgang Becker’s award-winning tragicomedy follows the story of an East German family whose matriarch – a fierce devotee of the Socialist cause – falls into a coma just before the Wall comes down in 1989. She wakes in June 1990 and her son (Daniel Bruehl) is under strict doctor’s orders to protect his mother from any news that might cause fatal shock… William Mollers:“Ostalgie triggers me emotionally. I always cry.”
Two Films Set in West Berlin
One, Two, Three (1961)
In Billy Wilder’s political comedy, a high-ranking Coca-Cola executive (played by James Cagney) is saddled with the unenviable task of keeping an eye on his boss’s 17-year-old daughter (Pamela Tiffin). Hilarity and disaster ensue in what Variety described as “a fast-paced, high-pitched, hard-hitting, lighthearted farce that packs a considerable wallop.” Jeremy Minsberg: “It captures a point in West Berlin with humour and love.”
Herr Lehmann / Berlin Blues (2003)
We first meet Kreuzberg bartender, Frank Lehmann, drunk on his way home from work. It’s Autumn 1989 and – though the story is set shortly before the Fall of the Wall – this film isn’t about the seismic historical change that’s coming. It focuses instead on the mood of disaffected young adults at a very particular, oft-forgotten time. For a faithful and humorous portrait of everyday life in SO 36, look no further. Chiara Baroni“It shows a Berlin which is no longer there, but was still present when I watched it in 2000. Kreuzberg, the Kneipen, the sense of helplessness this city offered in those years. It was like a playground for adults.”
… and a film, set in post-reunification Berlin
Lola Rennt / Run, Lola, Run (1998)
Lola (Franka Potente) has twenty minutes to get her hands on 100,000 Deutschmarks and save her boyfriend’s life (Moritz Bleibtrau). Written and directed by Tom Twyker, this iconic experimental thriller, was a firm favourite at the festivals and has inspired many a pop culture tribute. Sam Wiszniewski: “It shows Berlin at an interesting historical moment that’s not Third Reich or DDR.” Finn Ballard: “I have a soft spot for ‘Run, Lola, Run,’ now that I have given a couple of tours of the movie’s locations!”
And there you have it! Six Berlin film recommendations for your next movie night.
Today – Sunday 21st February – is International Tour Guide Day. This time last year, our members were out and about, leading some of Berlin’s best guided tours. This year, we’re reflecting on what it is about working as a professional guide in the German capital so special.
This International Tour Guide Day, we’d love to know: What’s the best thing about being a tour guide in Berlin?
Apart from the validation? Meeting people from everywhere, and occasionally hearing strange personal stories from guests about their own Berlin histories, adding colourful depth to the city‘s history you read in books. Sam Wiszniewski
Exploring the city on a daily basis, continuing to learn and study its history and meeting new people. Chiara Baroni
Sharing my passion of history and love of the city, and getting to know people, whom I can help, entertain and learn from, and on the off chance – even bond with. Carlos Meissner
Being a tour guide, every day is different and new. It is exciting to show guests Berlin through my eyes and experiences. Jeremy Minsberg
As a tour guide I have the privilege of getting an immediate response to my work. If I do a good job/tour (and I do my best to tailor the tour to my audience), I see it right away. People laugh, cry, argue and get involved in the tour. Nadav Gablinger
To see the recognition and understanding in visitor’s faces when they visit places and experience up-close stories they have read so much about. Finn Ballard
In a city full of contradictions, there’s always an interesting story to be told. Nothing is “just” the way it is – you can always uncover and expose sides hidden to the eye, and use them when trying to understand our present. Ben Fisher
“There’s no place like it” is a massive cliché, isn’t it? It’s true though! Berlin is legendary. The history is infamous and the contemporary is fascinating – but it’s complex and there are layers. So taking the time to unpack all that and make it accessible for a guest – through stories and exploration – is incredibly rewarding. Georgia Riungu
Wondering what to get the guide who that showed you everything this International Tour Guide Day?
A review- even long after your tour- is always a wonderful way to show appreciation.
18 February 1902: On this day in Berlin history, the first U-Bahn opens to the public.
Crowded streets, booming industry, and expanding suburbs – Berlin at the turn of the 20th century was a dynamic and modern city. Its population had rapidly increased from half a million in the 1850s to over 2 million by 1900. But rapid expansion came at the cost of easy transport connections, as Berlin’s arteries grew clogged by an increasing number of trams, buses, horses, wagons, and early automobiles.
Berlin’s planners looked towards the transport systems of their contemporary cities- London and New York- for potential solutions. Skeptical of an underground tube system like London’s because of the potential to damage their new subterranean sewerage system, the city decided on the New York alternative of a mainly elevated railway.
This first plan would predominantly be the basis for the current U1, connecting Bülowstraße (now the U2) and Warschauer Brücke (today Warschauer Straße). The decision to proceed through these working-class districts first was taken in order to avoid the well-healed areas around Leipziger Straße, whose residents insisted that the disruptive construction would not occur in their backyard.
German company Siemens began construction on the 10th of September, 1896 and plans were finally agreed for an extension into the richer pastures of West Berlin. Furthermore, the city was confident their sewer system could be protected and an underground extension to Potsdamer Platz was added. The eventual 1902 system, called the “Stammstrecke” (trunk route) was three lines connected through a rail triangle or “Gleisdreieck,” making the total length of the railway 10.1 kilometres.
On the 18th of February, 1902 the first section was opened to the public. The Prussian minister of public works, Karl von Thielen presided over a flock of prominent Berliners eager to take their first trips. The line would forge connections between the West at Zoologischer Garten, to the centre at Potsdamer Platz, all the way to the East at Stralauer Tor (now defunct).
This slice of On This Day in Berlin history was written by BBS Member Campbell Bews.
It’s one of four events he has chosen to remember this February. See what else made the cut on our blog.
We asked our members to share with us their favourite songs about Berlin or by Berliners and they did not disappoint. From classic ballads to the anthem of the German squatter movement, the range of genres is about as diverse as you’d expect of a city like Berlin.
Read on to see if your favourite made our list and to find your newest Ohrworm!
2. “Berlin,” Klaus Hoffmann This was when Berlin was still divided, it was a different city then. I heard the song when I was still in school, in the late 70s. I had been to Berlin once, and I had fallen in love with it. And I loved the song! Jo Eckardt
4. “Rauch-Haus-Song,” Ton Steine Scherben This is my favourite song about Berlin because it’s the true story of my Lieblingskiez (favourite neighbourhood). It talks about the squat and underground culture that I love, and about one of my still favourite place in Berlin: das Bethanien. It’s very a funny song and became the real hymn of Kreuzberg. Stéphanie Kieffer
5. “Kreuzberg,” Bloc Party My favourite song about Berlin reminds me of living in my old Kiez but also the album that it’s from is generally very nostalgic. Chris Moniz
6. “Passenger,” Iggy Pop I’ve known it since childhood but it was only after moving here that I learned his inspiration for the track was Berlin’s very own S-Bahn! The ride out to Wannsee is the most moving, according to Herr Pop. So give it a listen next time you’re heading out to Potsdam or the Bridge of Spies. Georgia Riungu
7. “Am Fenster,” City This song takes me back to my first months in Berlin and to some beautifully interesting conversations with a man grown up in West Berlin who loved playing both West and East Berlin music. Alazne Artetxe
…and a ½.“Oft gefragt,” Annenmaykantereit Okay not explicitly about Berlin… but they say Berlin in the lyrics! Susan Grouchy
And you? What are your favourite songs about Berlin or by a Berliner? Let us know on Facebook, Instagram or Twitter.
At the end of a challenging year, BBS members reflect on what 2020 taught them about the city they know so well.
It’s no secret that Berlin has seen its share of upheaval over the years.
For millions of visitors annually, this fascinating history is one of the German capital’s biggest draws. Guests from all across the globe have flocked to Berlin, determined to unlock, explore and understand its complex past. Those lucky enough to experience the Hauptstadt with a skilled guide invariably leave for home having learned valuable lessons – not just about this city, but from it.
2020 was itself a historic year.
Beyond putting the brakes (quite rightly) on tourism, the global pandemic encouraged us to think differently about- well, almost everything. As tour guides, covid restrictions changed the way we engage with Berlin – professionally, of course, but on a personal level too.
Ten tour guides tell us what they learned.
What did 2020 teach you about Berlin?
That I really don’t have to venture far from home to appreciate most things Berlin has to offer. My block is like a microcosm of the city and from my apartment, you can witness the effects of hard-hitting history, appreciate world-class street art, enjoy dozens of international cuisines and experience wildlife of all varieties. Georgia Riungu
To appreciate the little things in life and take quiet time for reflection. Jeremy Minsberg
That the more slowly you walk around, the better you realise how full of ginkgo bilobas this city is. There are so many of them! The female trees’ fruits do stink a little bit, but both female and male trees are so beautiful in Autumn. It’s really something you should not miss out on! Alazne Artetxe
To appreciate the fantastic historic city I live in (and the free entrance at the German History Museum). Susan Grouchy
2020 has taught me that Berlin can handle actually going to sleep once in a while. Chris Moniz
How special it was that I spent 15 years working as a guide. I know the city in a way that people with “regular jobs” cannot know, because I’m always out and about, whether it’s seeing the sites in Mitte or travelling to pick clients up. I’ll never know another place as intimately as Berlin. These last 12 months I’ve missed all that exploring. Heather Mae Ellis
I enjoyed even more the fact that Berlin is a green city. What a delight to walk through all these beautiful parks with lakes! And the open-minded/freedom spirit – we are actually allowed to enjoy them, not like in France or other countries where you really have to stay home. Stéphanie Kieffer
It’s not a bad place to be during a pandemic. Jo Eckardt
Berlin is great in crisis. Who first comes to Berlin is puzzled by the rough Berliner ways. But when the going gets tough you’ll always find a helping hand.