Sunday, July 08, 2007
Nuremberg Nazis...I Hate Nuremberg Nazis!
After yesterday's exciting, but exhausting, day trip to Heidelberg, it was extremely tempting to ignore my alarm clock and sleep until noon as I might have on a Sunday morning back in the United States. But all the same, I sprung out of bed around 6 AM to get ready for another day trip. But what sort of attraction could motivate a bleary-eyed tourist like myself to launch into action at such an unbearably early hour? Surely, after spending a full day being thoroughly steeped in over six centuries of German history, my academic interest in this nation's past had been sated!
But that's where you'd be wrong. (And don't call me "Shirley"!) Because despite its university, its student prison, and its mighty fortress, the majority of Heidelberg's historical displays limited themselves to the period prior to World War I. As someone with an interest in the 20th century, and World War II in particular, this was all well and good, but something was definitely lacking. Yes, in order to have a well-balanced historically-themed weekend, I would need to counterbalance my trip to Heidelberg with a visit to somewhere inextricably bound with the rise of modern totalitarianism. Somewhere synonymous with fascism. Somewhere, ideally, that was outside Munich!
Which is how I wound up on the train to Nuremberg. With the possible exceptions of Munich and Berlin, no other city possesses such a close affiliation with the Nazi party and its leadership. Its geographic centrality and long history of anti-Semitism made it the perfect site for annual Nazi rallies, intended to inspire confidence in the state and hatred of its enemies, especially Jews. It was hardly coincidental that Leni Riefenstahl chose Nuremberg as the setting for her propaganda masterpiece, Triumph des Willens.
(The subtitles are a bit unclear on this recording, but they read as follows: On September 5, 1934, ... 20 years after the outbreak of the World War ... 16 years after the beginning of our suffering ... 19 months after the beginning of the German renaissance ... Adolf Hitler flew again to Nuremberg to review the columns of his faithful followers…)
I arrived at the Nuremberg train station with far less fanfare than the Führer and with less baggage, both moral or otherwise. I carried with me only my trusty computer bag, which had been emptied except for essential items: my travel documents (tickets, schedules, etc.), my camera, and my German-English dictionary. I did not bring a guidebook per se, as the only one in my possession was limited to Munich. (Close readers will note that I did buy a guide book just the day before, but that one specifically focused on Heidelberg. I should probably invest in a general guide to Germany, or at least Bavaria, as soon as possible.) I did, however, jot down the directions to a few specific locations of interest to the World War II buff in Nuremberg, obtained with some help from my girlfriend the evening before. (We finally solved our communication issues thanks to the magic of Skype. It seems so obvious in hindsight!) But other than that, I had nothing. No map of the city. No local transit schedules. And certainly no carefully laid out parade route.
No, the only thing that Hitler and I shared was a common destination-the Nazi Party parade grounds. During the seventy years or so between our respective visits, the whole complex has been reconstructed as a museum, easily accessible via commuter rail. So I caught the S-2 to Dutzendteich and started wandering towards what I hoped was the museum. Fortunately, I found a street sign that indicated I was on the right track.
Yes, my destination was the Dokumentationszentrum Reichsparteitagsgelände or "Dokumentationszentrum" for short. I would be tempted to translate it into English, but "Documentation Center Nazi Party Rally Grounds" just sounds clunky in comparison. A few more blocks down the road, and I had arrived at my destination.
The Dokumentationszentrum occupies the north wing of Congress Hall (Kongressehalle), an uncompleted Nazi building sitting on the edge of a beautiful lake which was intended to hold an audience of 50,000 people. The glass and steel needle piercing the entryway penetrates into the heart of the building and is supposed to represent the light of truth breaking into what was the closed-off heart of the Nazi party. (It is also, I learn from Wikipedia, an architectural pun on the name of Adolf Hitler's favorite architect, Albert Speer, and a refutation of his ambitions.) I wandered inside and purchased a ticket to the museum's main exhibit: "Faszination und Gewalt" (Fascination and Terror) as well as a German audio guide.
The exhibit began with an interesting video contrasting Nuremberg's past and present. Two skateboarding kids are minding their own business, enjoying the weather, when suddenly they stumble upon the crumbling remains of the Nazi parade grounds! Suddenly, through the magic of cinematic flashback, they (and we) are suddenly able to witness the terrifying spectacle that once took place on this very spot. It was an interesting video and it conveyed its message well without any dialog, making it a good way to ease visitors of varying linguistic backgrounds into the exhibit proper.
The exhibit itself was interesting, although it included fewer original artifacts than I would have expected, with a large number of display boards and reproduced graphics as well as occasional videos. The audio tour included some supplemental material, but otherwise merely read off verbatim what was posted on the walls. This was perfect for me, since I sometimes had trouble following the German recording, but if I were a native German speaker, I think it would be somewhat frustrating. I was impressed, however, at the unique interaction between the videos and the audio guides, which would automatically connect with the film's audio feed (in the correct language, naturally) once visitors came within range.
Some other highlights from the museum tour:
A copy of Mein Kampf from 1940. I'm not sure whether or not the signature under Hitler's picture is authentic, but it wouldn't surprise me.
Beyond books, Hitler merchandising took on a life of its own during the 1930s. This picture reveals the lucrative industry which emerged making life sized metal reproductions of Hitler's head. (One wonders what the ordinary German did with one of these if they ever scrounged up the money to buy them. Also how many of these were likely melted down when the war started turning against Germany?)
This was, for me, the hands-down most interesting artifact in the whole museum. I wish that I could have gotten a picture without that glaring lamp in the bottom left corner, but that was the way the display was set up. This is a board game marketed to children in Nazi Germany and entitled "Juden Rauß." For players who were rusty, helpful hints were inscribed on the board:
For example--
"Gelingt es Dir 6 Juden rauszujagen so bist Du Sieger ohne zu fragen!"
(Rough translation: If you successfully drive out (hunt down?) 6 Jews, you will be the winner without question!")
AND
"Zeige Geschick im Würfelspiel,
damit Du sammelst der Juden viel!"
(Rough translation: Prove your luck in rolling the dice so that you can collect the most Jews!")
Apparently, the idea of the game was to move one's Jewish playing tokens, which were dressed wearing pointy, medieval hats, around the board based on the roll of the dice. The winner was the player who got the most Jews "off to Palestine." More information on the rules can be found here and a slightly better picture of the board (conveniently omitting that corner) can be found here. I found this game fascinating, a tangible example of the depth of Nazi influence. Can you imagine Parker Brothers or Milton Bradley getting behind a totalitarian regime to this extent? I mean, no matter how much Monopoly centers around the intrinsic unfairness of the capitalist system, but you never have to worry about the Banker drawing a Community Chest card that tells him to round up all the swarthy looking tenants living in houses on St. James Place and shipping them off to a gulag. But the Nazi ideology proved so powerful that it extended into the realm of popular culture and corrupted even the most innocent of media--board games, childrens' books--to its twisted purposes.
And although it may be hard to see, that is the signature of Hitler's successor as president of Germany, Admiral Karl Dönitz. He was the highest ranking German prisoner captured by the Allies.
After a few hours in the museum, I decided to take a walk around the grounds. As mentioned earlier, the Dokumentationszentrum was located next to a lake (the Dutzendteich) which was in turn surrounded by the remnants of the old Nazi party rally grounds. A series of markers allowed one to make a walking tour of all the major sights in a little under two hours. And since it was a beautiful day and I had no place better to go, I figured a brief constitutional might be worthwhile. And who knows, maybe I would see some interesting sights along the way!
Here's a picture of the Kongressehalle (i.e. the back of the Dokumentationszentrum) from across the lake. To give an idea of scale, remember, that building was meant to hold 50,000 people.
This is the Zeppelintribüne, one of Albert Speer's earliest works and the grandstand from which Hitler surveyed the crowds during Nazi rallies.
Here's where he stood. I debated going up there to get a look at the view, but decided that I didn't really feel like carrying my emulation of Hitler so far as that. Besides, mere moments after I took this picture a group of Spanish tourists started clustering around it, ruining my chance to take a good clean video of the site using my camera's movie function.
Interesting fact: The Zeppelintribüne once served as the foundation for a giant swastika symbolizing the strength of the Nazi party. At the end of the war, with Nazism no longer in fashion, it was blown up by the Americans in a particularly spectacular fashion. (It takes about a minute into this newsreel to see it, but it's worth the wait!)
After cruising around the Nazis' old stomping grounds for a few hours, I figured it was about time to head back to town to check out the second item on my itinerary. I walked back to the train station and waited for what felt like an inordinately long time for the train back to the center of town. I needed to get back to the main train station and then catch the subway to Bärenschanze. My final destination for the day would also be the final destination of many high ranking Nazi officials.
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Nuremberg's Palace of Justice!
In 1945, the Americans successfully arranged to have the proposed war crimes trials against surviving members of the Nazi regime in Nuremberg, which was in their zone of occupation. Part of the reason the other Allies agreed was because this building and its adjoining stockade, had survived bombardment and provided a secure venue for the proceedings.
After waiting approximately half an hour for a tour, I and a crowd of approximately thirty others were led into the building up several flights of stairs lined with photographs from the trial and into the actual room where the Nuremberg Trials took place.
Here is how it looked in 1945:
And here is how it looks now. The right side of the door frame is visible in each picture.
You may be wondering why I only took a picture of this ornately carved door. The answer is we were only allowed to sit in the gallery, not walk around the courtroom. In fact, the entirety of the tour consisted of sitting on a hard wooden bench with the following view:
Because, yes, the tour consisted of watching a movie (German with English subtitles) about the Nuremberg Trials. Afterwards a guide gave a 20 minute talk about the trials alternating between German and English for the mixed audience. He was quite well-informed and presented all of the major facts of the trial in a cogent fashion. He seemed slightly put out that there were so few questions, but honestly, between his talk and the video, he covered pretty much everything, even the question of why there was a giant crucifix over the judge's desk. (The answer had something to do with Bavaria's traditional adherence to Catholicism.)
Following that, it was back downstairs to sign the guest book (I've been doing that at every chance in Germany...one never knows if a future historian will care enough to look.), then a quick stroll past some soccer playing kids to the subway and then back home. ("It's 170 kilometers to Munich...") By then it was almost 5:00 in the afternoon and in contrast with my escapades in Heidelberg, I had no intention of returning home very late, what with class at 8:30 tomorrow morning.
In hindsight, I probably could have spent an additional day exploring Nuremberg's non-Nazi related attractions. The city does have a rich cultural heritage beyond the parade grounds and the war trials which made it famous during the 20th century. (I didn't even get to try one of the local Nurnbergers. From what I've been told, they look and taste like Jimmy Dean breakfast sausages, only better because they're freshly made.) But although my fellow historians of science tend to focus upon Nuremberg's importance in the history of early modern astronomy and its role as a center of the emergent printing industry during the 15th and 16th centuries, I feel that in order to clearly appreciate these things on a future visit, it was wise to confront the lingering influence of World War II throughout the city. Now, having dealt with the fascist elephant in the room, I feel confident that if I ever return to Nuremberg, I will be able visit its old town, its art museums, and its castle without being distracted in the corner of my mind with visions of the world that Riefenstahl captured with her camera in 1935.
After yesterday's exciting, but exhausting, day trip to Heidelberg, it was extremely tempting to ignore my alarm clock and sleep until noon as I might have on a Sunday morning back in the United States. But all the same, I sprung out of bed around 6 AM to get ready for another day trip. But what sort of attraction could motivate a bleary-eyed tourist like myself to launch into action at such an unbearably early hour? Surely, after spending a full day being thoroughly steeped in over six centuries of German history, my academic interest in this nation's past had been sated!
But that's where you'd be wrong. (And don't call me "Shirley"!) Because despite its university, its student prison, and its mighty fortress, the majority of Heidelberg's historical displays limited themselves to the period prior to World War I. As someone with an interest in the 20th century, and World War II in particular, this was all well and good, but something was definitely lacking. Yes, in order to have a well-balanced historically-themed weekend, I would need to counterbalance my trip to Heidelberg with a visit to somewhere inextricably bound with the rise of modern totalitarianism. Somewhere synonymous with fascism. Somewhere, ideally, that was outside Munich!
Which is how I wound up on the train to Nuremberg. With the possible exceptions of Munich and Berlin, no other city possesses such a close affiliation with the Nazi party and its leadership. Its geographic centrality and long history of anti-Semitism made it the perfect site for annual Nazi rallies, intended to inspire confidence in the state and hatred of its enemies, especially Jews. It was hardly coincidental that Leni Riefenstahl chose Nuremberg as the setting for her propaganda masterpiece, Triumph des Willens.
(The subtitles are a bit unclear on this recording, but they read as follows: On September 5, 1934, ... 20 years after the outbreak of the World War ... 16 years after the beginning of our suffering ... 19 months after the beginning of the German renaissance ... Adolf Hitler flew again to Nuremberg to review the columns of his faithful followers…)
I arrived at the Nuremberg train station with far less fanfare than the Führer and with less baggage, both moral or otherwise. I carried with me only my trusty computer bag, which had been emptied except for essential items: my travel documents (tickets, schedules, etc.), my camera, and my German-English dictionary. I did not bring a guidebook per se, as the only one in my possession was limited to Munich. (Close readers will note that I did buy a guide book just the day before, but that one specifically focused on Heidelberg. I should probably invest in a general guide to Germany, or at least Bavaria, as soon as possible.) I did, however, jot down the directions to a few specific locations of interest to the World War II buff in Nuremberg, obtained with some help from my girlfriend the evening before. (We finally solved our communication issues thanks to the magic of Skype. It seems so obvious in hindsight!) But other than that, I had nothing. No map of the city. No local transit schedules. And certainly no carefully laid out parade route.
No, the only thing that Hitler and I shared was a common destination-the Nazi Party parade grounds. During the seventy years or so between our respective visits, the whole complex has been reconstructed as a museum, easily accessible via commuter rail. So I caught the S-2 to Dutzendteich and started wandering towards what I hoped was the museum. Fortunately, I found a street sign that indicated I was on the right track.
Yes, my destination was the Dokumentationszentrum Reichsparteitagsgelände or "Dokumentationszentrum" for short. I would be tempted to translate it into English, but "Documentation Center Nazi Party Rally Grounds" just sounds clunky in comparison. A few more blocks down the road, and I had arrived at my destination.
The Dokumentationszentrum occupies the north wing of Congress Hall (Kongressehalle), an uncompleted Nazi building sitting on the edge of a beautiful lake which was intended to hold an audience of 50,000 people. The glass and steel needle piercing the entryway penetrates into the heart of the building and is supposed to represent the light of truth breaking into what was the closed-off heart of the Nazi party. (It is also, I learn from Wikipedia, an architectural pun on the name of Adolf Hitler's favorite architect, Albert Speer, and a refutation of his ambitions.) I wandered inside and purchased a ticket to the museum's main exhibit: "Faszination und Gewalt" (Fascination and Terror) as well as a German audio guide.
The exhibit began with an interesting video contrasting Nuremberg's past and present. Two skateboarding kids are minding their own business, enjoying the weather, when suddenly they stumble upon the crumbling remains of the Nazi parade grounds! Suddenly, through the magic of cinematic flashback, they (and we) are suddenly able to witness the terrifying spectacle that once took place on this very spot. It was an interesting video and it conveyed its message well without any dialog, making it a good way to ease visitors of varying linguistic backgrounds into the exhibit proper.
The exhibit itself was interesting, although it included fewer original artifacts than I would have expected, with a large number of display boards and reproduced graphics as well as occasional videos. The audio tour included some supplemental material, but otherwise merely read off verbatim what was posted on the walls. This was perfect for me, since I sometimes had trouble following the German recording, but if I were a native German speaker, I think it would be somewhat frustrating. I was impressed, however, at the unique interaction between the videos and the audio guides, which would automatically connect with the film's audio feed (in the correct language, naturally) once visitors came within range.
Some other highlights from the museum tour:
A copy of Mein Kampf from 1940. I'm not sure whether or not the signature under Hitler's picture is authentic, but it wouldn't surprise me.
Beyond books, Hitler merchandising took on a life of its own during the 1930s. This picture reveals the lucrative industry which emerged making life sized metal reproductions of Hitler's head. (One wonders what the ordinary German did with one of these if they ever scrounged up the money to buy them. Also how many of these were likely melted down when the war started turning against Germany?)
This was, for me, the hands-down most interesting artifact in the whole museum. I wish that I could have gotten a picture without that glaring lamp in the bottom left corner, but that was the way the display was set up. This is a board game marketed to children in Nazi Germany and entitled "Juden Rauß." For players who were rusty, helpful hints were inscribed on the board:
For example--
"Gelingt es Dir 6 Juden rauszujagen so bist Du Sieger ohne zu fragen!"
(Rough translation: If you successfully drive out (hunt down?) 6 Jews, you will be the winner without question!")
AND
"Zeige Geschick im Würfelspiel,
damit Du sammelst der Juden viel!"
(Rough translation: Prove your luck in rolling the dice so that you can collect the most Jews!")
Apparently, the idea of the game was to move one's Jewish playing tokens, which were dressed wearing pointy, medieval hats, around the board based on the roll of the dice. The winner was the player who got the most Jews "off to Palestine." More information on the rules can be found here and a slightly better picture of the board (conveniently omitting that corner) can be found here. I found this game fascinating, a tangible example of the depth of Nazi influence. Can you imagine Parker Brothers or Milton Bradley getting behind a totalitarian regime to this extent? I mean, no matter how much Monopoly centers around the intrinsic unfairness of the capitalist system, but you never have to worry about the Banker drawing a Community Chest card that tells him to round up all the swarthy looking tenants living in houses on St. James Place and shipping them off to a gulag. But the Nazi ideology proved so powerful that it extended into the realm of popular culture and corrupted even the most innocent of media--board games, childrens' books--to its twisted purposes.
And although it may be hard to see, that is the signature of Hitler's successor as president of Germany, Admiral Karl Dönitz. He was the highest ranking German prisoner captured by the Allies.
After a few hours in the museum, I decided to take a walk around the grounds. As mentioned earlier, the Dokumentationszentrum was located next to a lake (the Dutzendteich) which was in turn surrounded by the remnants of the old Nazi party rally grounds. A series of markers allowed one to make a walking tour of all the major sights in a little under two hours. And since it was a beautiful day and I had no place better to go, I figured a brief constitutional might be worthwhile. And who knows, maybe I would see some interesting sights along the way!
Here's a picture of the Kongressehalle (i.e. the back of the Dokumentationszentrum) from across the lake. To give an idea of scale, remember, that building was meant to hold 50,000 people.
This is the Zeppelintribüne, one of Albert Speer's earliest works and the grandstand from which Hitler surveyed the crowds during Nazi rallies.
Here's where he stood. I debated going up there to get a look at the view, but decided that I didn't really feel like carrying my emulation of Hitler so far as that. Besides, mere moments after I took this picture a group of Spanish tourists started clustering around it, ruining my chance to take a good clean video of the site using my camera's movie function.
Interesting fact: The Zeppelintribüne once served as the foundation for a giant swastika symbolizing the strength of the Nazi party. At the end of the war, with Nazism no longer in fashion, it was blown up by the Americans in a particularly spectacular fashion. (It takes about a minute into this newsreel to see it, but it's worth the wait!)
After cruising around the Nazis' old stomping grounds for a few hours, I figured it was about time to head back to town to check out the second item on my itinerary. I walked back to the train station and waited for what felt like an inordinately long time for the train back to the center of town. I needed to get back to the main train station and then catch the subway to Bärenschanze. My final destination for the day would also be the final destination of many high ranking Nazi officials.
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Nuremberg's Palace of Justice!
In 1945, the Americans successfully arranged to have the proposed war crimes trials against surviving members of the Nazi regime in Nuremberg, which was in their zone of occupation. Part of the reason the other Allies agreed was because this building and its adjoining stockade, had survived bombardment and provided a secure venue for the proceedings.
After waiting approximately half an hour for a tour, I and a crowd of approximately thirty others were led into the building up several flights of stairs lined with photographs from the trial and into the actual room where the Nuremberg Trials took place.
Here is how it looked in 1945:
And here is how it looks now. The right side of the door frame is visible in each picture.
You may be wondering why I only took a picture of this ornately carved door. The answer is we were only allowed to sit in the gallery, not walk around the courtroom. In fact, the entirety of the tour consisted of sitting on a hard wooden bench with the following view:
Because, yes, the tour consisted of watching a movie (German with English subtitles) about the Nuremberg Trials. Afterwards a guide gave a 20 minute talk about the trials alternating between German and English for the mixed audience. He was quite well-informed and presented all of the major facts of the trial in a cogent fashion. He seemed slightly put out that there were so few questions, but honestly, between his talk and the video, he covered pretty much everything, even the question of why there was a giant crucifix over the judge's desk. (The answer had something to do with Bavaria's traditional adherence to Catholicism.)
Following that, it was back downstairs to sign the guest book (I've been doing that at every chance in Germany...one never knows if a future historian will care enough to look.), then a quick stroll past some soccer playing kids to the subway and then back home. ("It's 170 kilometers to Munich...") By then it was almost 5:00 in the afternoon and in contrast with my escapades in Heidelberg, I had no intention of returning home very late, what with class at 8:30 tomorrow morning.
In hindsight, I probably could have spent an additional day exploring Nuremberg's non-Nazi related attractions. The city does have a rich cultural heritage beyond the parade grounds and the war trials which made it famous during the 20th century. (I didn't even get to try one of the local Nurnbergers. From what I've been told, they look and taste like Jimmy Dean breakfast sausages, only better because they're freshly made.) But although my fellow historians of science tend to focus upon Nuremberg's importance in the history of early modern astronomy and its role as a center of the emergent printing industry during the 15th and 16th centuries, I feel that in order to clearly appreciate these things on a future visit, it was wise to confront the lingering influence of World War II throughout the city. Now, having dealt with the fascist elephant in the room, I feel confident that if I ever return to Nuremberg, I will be able visit its old town, its art museums, and its castle without being distracted in the corner of my mind with visions of the world that Riefenstahl captured with her camera in 1935.
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