Robert Hampton

I’ve spent the past few days in Berlin with my friend Andrew. Wonderful Berlin. Beautiful, exciting, cosmopolitan Berlin. There are numerous pictures and blog posts to follow in the coming days.

Most of our first full day in Berlin was spent doing some historical sightseeing. This city was at the centre of world events for much of the 20th century, and the lingering after-effects are there to see all around. In a later blog post I’ll talk about what I saw of the remains of the Berlin Wall and the Cold War era.

First though, I need to acknowledge what I saw and learned about the darkest chapter in Germany’s history – namely, those twelve years from 1933 to 1945 when the country descended into tyranny, terror and unspeakable evil, culminating in the most destructive war in the world’s history, and the attempted extermination of a race of people.

Near the Brandenburg Gate is the city’s Holocaust Memorial. Its to-the-point official name Stiftung Denkmal für die ermordeten Juden Europas (Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe), leaves no doubt as to its purpose.

The memorial consists of 2,711 concrete pillars of varying heights, arranged in a grid with gaps between that people can walk through. The ground is on a slope – at the edge of the memorial the pillars are at waist height, while in the centre the stones tower overhead. This leads to feelings of disorientation and unease – an effect I’m sure is intended.

Through the gaps in the pillars, I saw a couple in tears, holding each other for comfort. I passed a small group of people with what sounded like American accents, holding hands in a circle and whispering a prayer, perhaps for some relative whose life was cruelly extinguished.

Six million people. That’s more than the entire population of Scotland.

Across the road, in one corner of the vast Tiergarten park, is a smaller, simpler memorial. This one is for the gay victims of Nazi persecution. Look inside the small window and you can see a continuously-looping film showing various same-sex couples kissing.

Elsewhere in the city, near Checkpoint Charlie, is Topography of Terror, located in the foundations of the former SS headquarters, which was demolished after the war. Now, the sunken gardens serve as an exhibition, with pictures, audio and visual exhibits describing the brutal regime.

I came away from the memorials feeling humbled. I had received a vivid reminder of the ability of human beings to inflict suffering on other human beings. Hopefully the lessons of history have been learned, and there will be no future barbarity that requires a memorial of this scale.

I also feel more disappointed than ever at some British people’s attitudes toward German people. I’m talking specifically about the morons who think it’s HILARIOUS to goose step around doing Hitler salutes. The little Englanders who bring up World War II every time the European Union is discussed. The football fans who delight in “two world wars and one world cup” chants whenever England play Germany at football (fun fact: most German football fans couldn’t give a toss: they consider The Netherlands to be their rivals).

It’s disrespectful to the victims to joke in this way. And it’s also disrespectful for the current generation of Germans, who should not be expected to share the guilt for events that happened years before they were born. They look back with revulsion and horror at this time in their history, but they have also moved on. So should we.