Reflections on Berlin
I came to Berlin late. A corporate career working exclusively for Swiss and German owned businesses has at times made European cities like Zurich and Hannover feel like second homes. The regular rounds of meetings and conferences have at some point in the last twenty years taken me to most of the major European capitals. But for some reason, until this week, Berlin had eluded me.
To be introduced to Berlin properly for the first time in 2017, post-Brexit, post-Trump, and in the week of the French Presidential election, was a sobering experience, even more so when I found myself listening to a line-up of senior German politicians sharing their thoughts on the future of Europe, in German, to a mostly German audience… and me.
It hard to describe exactly how Germans view the result of our EU Referendum, especially when you only have anecdotal evidence collected on a two-day visit, but on a walkabout in Potsdamer Platz (more of which later) I struck up a conversation with a local. When he realised I was English he immediately asked, ‘What’s happened to you all? Have you gone crazy?’. It turned out later in the same conversation that he was homeless and maybe more than a little crazy himself, but the conversation was well worth the €2 I gave him for a coffee.
Despite his own slightly wonky grasp of reality, his spontaneous reaction to meeting an Englishman was pretty typical. It’s difficult, seriously difficult, for Germans to understand why we would want to leave the EU. Several times during my brief visit, it felt like I’d escaped from an asylum, on a mission to tell those on the outside that there were still some sane people left on the inside!
By their own admission, national identity can be a tricky subject for Germans. To walk around Berlin for a few hours is to be reminded that division in Europe is not very far behind us; not the political divisions we see today, but the violent, hate-fuelled divisions of the thirties and forties. Whilst English national identity looks to the comforting and comfortable past for its foundations, with much of the rhetoric around the EU Referendum centred on ‘taking back control’, and a return to blue passports and commonwealth trade, German national identity, for reasons that are literally built into the fabric of Berlin, is focussed wholly on the future. For Germany, being at the heart of an integrated Europe is as culturally important as the NHS is to Britain.
The only natural German response to Brexit seems to be to move on, to leave us behind. They appear to be genuinely saddened by our decision to leave but they still talk positively about the future of the EU – surprisingly positively. They talk of a ‘coming together’ of the 27 remaining members, of a stronger Europe, of a Macron victory in France and of victories for democracy in the Netherlands and Austria. In the German Presidential election later this year all of the candidates are pro-Europe.
Maybe it’s a personal thing for me, maybe my life in travel and my career in European business has (over)shaped my thinking, but I find myself deeply saddened by all of this. Sad that Britain is being left behind; left behind like a dysfunctional teenage child. Yes, there’s still affection for us, but with a shrug of the shoulders the rest of Europe is moving on.
There’s still a genuine belief that against all odds, the British will wake from their slumber, realise the enormity of their mistake and return to the fold. This is not the opinion of a few optimists, it’s the widely held view of the majority of people I spoke to.
And so back to my walkabout. Two hours, I discovered, is a long time in Berlin. From Potsdamer Platz, I wondered through the backstreets, past a disused and hardly noticed East German watchtower. And then a short walk (alongside Peter Eisenman’s, graveyard evoking, Holocaust Memorial) to the Brandenburg Gate where an exuberant wedding party was celebrating a union in a place associated for so long with division. From there, I headed towards the impressively designed British Embassy and then on to Checkpoint Charlie, one of the most potent symbols of the Cold War, where Soviet and American tanks briefly faced each other during the Berlin Crisis of 1961. And finally to the remains of the Berlin Wall itself and the Topographie des Terrors, a museum on the site of the buildings used by the Gestapo and the SS from 1933 to 1945.
To be in Berlin is to be reminded just how fragile peace in Europe really is, and yet I leave feeling more optimistic than when I arrived. My sadness at the decision the UK made to leave the EU is stronger than ever, but there remains a conviction in Europe (certainly in Germany) that the future of Europe is still positive: that the EU will not just survive the departure of the UK but will learn from it and become stronger. And that I think is good news not just for the 27, but for the UK as well.
To be introduced to Berlin properly for the first time in 2017, post-Brexit, post-Trump, and in the week of the French Presidential election, was a sobering experience, even more so when I found myself listening to a line-up of senior German politicians sharing their thoughts on the future of Europe, in German, to a mostly German audience… and me.
It hard to describe exactly how Germans view the result of our EU Referendum, especially when you only have anecdotal evidence collected on a two-day visit, but on a walkabout in Potsdamer Platz (more of which later) I struck up a conversation with a local. When he realised I was English he immediately asked, ‘What’s happened to you all? Have you gone crazy?’. It turned out later in the same conversation that he was homeless and maybe more than a little crazy himself, but the conversation was well worth the €2 I gave him for a coffee.
Despite his own slightly wonky grasp of reality, his spontaneous reaction to meeting an Englishman was pretty typical. It’s difficult, seriously difficult, for Germans to understand why we would want to leave the EU. Several times during my brief visit, it felt like I’d escaped from an asylum, on a mission to tell those on the outside that there were still some sane people left on the inside!
By their own admission, national identity can be a tricky subject for Germans. To walk around Berlin for a few hours is to be reminded that division in Europe is not very far behind us; not the political divisions we see today, but the violent, hate-fuelled divisions of the thirties and forties. Whilst English national identity looks to the comforting and comfortable past for its foundations, with much of the rhetoric around the EU Referendum centred on ‘taking back control’, and a return to blue passports and commonwealth trade, German national identity, for reasons that are literally built into the fabric of Berlin, is focussed wholly on the future. For Germany, being at the heart of an integrated Europe is as culturally important as the NHS is to Britain.
The only natural German response to Brexit seems to be to move on, to leave us behind. They appear to be genuinely saddened by our decision to leave but they still talk positively about the future of the EU – surprisingly positively. They talk of a ‘coming together’ of the 27 remaining members, of a stronger Europe, of a Macron victory in France and of victories for democracy in the Netherlands and Austria. In the German Presidential election later this year all of the candidates are pro-Europe.
Maybe it’s a personal thing for me, maybe my life in travel and my career in European business has (over)shaped my thinking, but I find myself deeply saddened by all of this. Sad that Britain is being left behind; left behind like a dysfunctional teenage child. Yes, there’s still affection for us, but with a shrug of the shoulders the rest of Europe is moving on.
There’s still a genuine belief that against all odds, the British will wake from their slumber, realise the enormity of their mistake and return to the fold. This is not the opinion of a few optimists, it’s the widely held view of the majority of people I spoke to.
And so back to my walkabout. Two hours, I discovered, is a long time in Berlin. From Potsdamer Platz, I wondered through the backstreets, past a disused and hardly noticed East German watchtower. And then a short walk (alongside Peter Eisenman’s, graveyard evoking, Holocaust Memorial) to the Brandenburg Gate where an exuberant wedding party was celebrating a union in a place associated for so long with division. From there, I headed towards the impressively designed British Embassy and then on to Checkpoint Charlie, one of the most potent symbols of the Cold War, where Soviet and American tanks briefly faced each other during the Berlin Crisis of 1961. And finally to the remains of the Berlin Wall itself and the Topographie des Terrors, a museum on the site of the buildings used by the Gestapo and the SS from 1933 to 1945.
To be in Berlin is to be reminded just how fragile peace in Europe really is, and yet I leave feeling more optimistic than when I arrived. My sadness at the decision the UK made to leave the EU is stronger than ever, but there remains a conviction in Europe (certainly in Germany) that the future of Europe is still positive: that the EU will not just survive the departure of the UK but will learn from it and become stronger. And that I think is good news not just for the 27, but for the UK as well.
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