Hanne

History, Memory, Humour and Art: A WW2 Story

This blog takes a turn off the main path to take a think about the past and ways of remembering. Prompted by a visit to the concentration camp Sachsenhausen where DDR displays had recently been ripped out and replaced by the modern versions of history (coming in the ‘Berlin’ blog entry), it occurred to me just how much things have changed over the last 50 years. People change how they remember things. History is constantly being reinterpreted to keep up with the present, but what is preserved can tell us a lot about a society.

Let’s start with a visit to a war memorial in Southern Bavaria. Yes, this surprised many kiwis but there are war memorials to German Soldiers killed in battle during the World Wars. Particularly in small villages, you will find plaques commemorating the sons sent off to fight who never returned. I first encountered this when staying in Altötting. We went for a hike up a hill in the snow and at the lookout up top was a stone arch with the names of the boys from the neighbouring town. In some ways I think it must be harder for German families who lost their husbands and sons because the war was for so many years a taboo subject. Whereas in New Zealand there were War Memorial Halls and gates built in just about every town, in Germany things are much more discreet. It was however interesting to note the architecture of one of the main University buildings, both inside and out.

The University’s buildings were almost completely destroyed in WW1 and rebuilt by the Nazis when they came to power. This particular building, which now houses language labs and rooms used for English and Politics, still sports an empty shield on the front wall where a swastika once announced the Nazis’ power over both the institution and the state. Inside the main hall the walls are engraved with the names of jewish WW2 victims from Freiburg, while the slogan emblazoned on the outside wall, ‘Die Wahrheit wird euch Frei machen’ (‘The truth will set you free’) is also a reference to the past and a reminder to remember and not repeat.

Smaller, more inconspicuous reminders are also not uncommon. The yellow ‘Gurs 1027km’ sign out the front of the University in Freiburg looks innocuous. Standing on the corner of the grass area ‘Platz der Alten Synagogue’ which was destroyed during Kristallnacht, it took a local student giving us a history tour to learn the significance of it. Gurs, a town in France, is in fact the camp most of Freiburg’s Jews were sent to and exterminated at.

Before leaving for Germany the first time I was warned by my parents and their peers not to mention the war. Sadly, this still seems to be the first things that New Zealander’s associate with Germany as a country. And while it is true that earlier generations preferred not to speak of it, things have changed. The younger generation of Germans have all had Hitler stuffed down their throats since primary school. They are all aware of what occurred and in order to reinforce this a minimum of one visit to a concentration camp facility is compulsory during their schooling years. These grandchildren and Great grandchildren of the Nazi perpertrators have different attitude to the past to their parents’ generation. Whereas those born during and after WW2 were shamed by the actions of their parents and felt the need to rebel, younger Germans today feel more distance. This is not to say that they are any more tolerant of the national socialist ideaologies and actions, they are simply exploring their cultural past using different methods. One of these, surprisingly enough, is humour.

A free postcard on my flatmate’s food cupboard depicted two drawings of a naked Hitler, recognizable by his trademark moustache. On the second image the pubic hair had been cut into matching friseur. The caption? ‘We take Comedy seriously’. Indeed, comedy seems to be the latest weapon against ghosts of the past.

The 2007 film ‘Mein Führer – Die wirklich wahrste Wahrheit über Adolf Hitler’ (‘The Truly Truest Truth About Adolf Hitler’) was screened as part of the Freiburg academic film club lineup last semester. A New Zealand friend and I decided to go along, partly to watch the film but partly to observe the reactions of the audience. And they laughed. While the Hitler character shuffled around on the ground like a dog and was mounted by his own German Shepherd, they laughed. And when he was depicted having violent temper tantrums like those of a three year old, they also found it funny. Seeing a figure who represents such atrocities in a position of humiliation had a cathartic effect. Instead of quietly shying away from the man they set out to undermine his credibility. And this film was not the only example of this.

In Berlin I went to see a film in the outdoor cinema and the pre-film was a spoof reel about having to rehabilitate nazi sympathizers into everyday life. Unable to talk on the telephone as their right arms held the appratus too far away, they were put into ‘useful’ work in pairs with a string tied between their wrists. A housewife would then peg her washing to the line and call ‘heil Hitler’, at which point they would raise their arms and create a washing line. Again, this was not the sort of film I was expecting to see and I was surprised by the genuinely amused reaction of the audience. Perhaps they feel that enough time has passed now for the danger of a relapse into national socialism or a similar system to be over. I would suggest that this use of humour could be seen as a sign of a stabler country, more confident in its direction. Shame and silence have been attacked through protest and revolution and developed into humour and art. Twenty years after the fall of the Berlin Wall, Germany is not forgetting but is also no longer bound tight by the chains of its past.