Episodes

  • "You shall fly, dove of peace; Tell everyone here, that we never want war again: We want peace."

    "You shall fly, dove of peace; Tell everyone here, that we never want war again: We want peace."
    Nov 3 2024

    In this episode, we explore the complicated relationship between East Germany (GDR) and its proclaimed commitment to peace. The GDR built an entire national identity around the idea of peace, embodied in the figure of the dove, which appeared in murals, posters, and even songs taught to children. Yet, this commitment came with profound contradictions, as the GDR actively supported militarization, armed foreign states, and repressed domestic pacifism, all while promoting itself as a “State of Peace.”

    In today’s world, peace is again a political buzzword, but the freedom and justice necessary for true peace are often missing from the conversation. This episode traces how similar messages of peace in the GDR served as instruments for propaganda and control, setting a chilling precedent in Cold War-era politics and offering a lesson on the enduring power of symbols.

    ● Key Moments in the Episode:

    Peace on 2024 Election Posters in Germany – How political parties across the spectrum, from the SPD to the AfD, are employing "peace" as a slogan, each with its own twist.

    A Brief History of the Peace Dove in the GDR – From Picasso’s lithograph to East German propaganda, the dove became a central image in the GDR’s narrative of peace, used both in Berlin’s public art and educational songs like the one by Erika Schirmer.

    The GDR as a 'Friedensstaat' (State of Peace) – Examining the GDR’s ideological positioning as a peace state under Marxist principles and its tension with Western capitalist “imperialism.”

    Militarization in the Name of Peace – How militarization permeated the GDR society, from youth indoctrination to the National People's Army (NVA), and culminated in mandatory military service and arms exports.

    Arms Exports and Foreign Military Presence – The GDR’s paradoxical role as an arms dealer and military advisor, with involvement across Africa, the Middle East, and other regions, all in the name of supporting "peaceful" socialist allies.

    Pacifist Movement in West Germany and GDR's Influence – How the GDR and USSR exploited West German pacifism to counter NATO while suppressing East German peace activists who challenged militarization at home.

    The Legacy of Peace in Germany Today – Reflection on how the GDR’s legacy of “peace” still influences contemporary Germany’s political landscape and public memory, especially in East Germany.

    ● Bookshelf

    * Wolfgang Klietz, Waffenhändler in Uniform (Arms dealer in uniform), 2024

    * Thomas Großbölting, Friedensstaat, Leseland, Sportnation? DDR-Legenden auf dem Prüfstand (Peace state, reading country, sporting nation? GDR legends put to the test), 2013

    * Klaus Storkmann, Geheime Solidarität - Militärbeziehungen und Militärhilfen der DDR in die "Dritte Welt (Secret solidarity - military relations and military aid from the GDR to the ‘Third World), 2012

    * MDR Online Dossier: Geheime Kriege der DDR (Secret wars of the GDR), free to read, German

    * DDR Museum online, Die riedenstaube (The dove of peace), free to read, German

    ● Music credits

    In addition to the Royalty Free Music and Sound Effects Libraries, here you will find some seconds of the "Kleine weiße Friedenstaube" song by Erika Schirmer, which I embed here and partially reproduce in the podcast - performed by the DDR Children's Choir "Walter Ulbricht" of the Dresden Instrumental Group under the direction of Manfred Winter - for historical documentation (not commercial purpose).



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    29 mins
  • The Humboldt Forum: Berlin’s Palace of Paradoxes.

    The Humboldt Forum: Berlin’s Palace of Paradoxes.
    Oct 18 2024

    This episode explores the complex history and controversies surrounding Berlin's Humboldt Forum. We begin with an introduction to Berlin's layered history and the Humboldt Forum as a controversial landmark, highlighting the clash between its neo-baroque exterior and modern interior. The narrative then delves into the architectural journey of the site, discussing the Humboldt Forum's predecessors: the Berlin City Palace and the Palace of the Republic.

    We examine the series of demolitions and reconstructions that have taken place, from the Berlin City Palace's 15th-century origins to its WWII destruction, and the subsequent rise and fall of the Palace of the Republic as an emblem of East German identity. The episode also covers the contentious debate over preserving or demolishing the Palace of the Republic.

    The cultural significance of the Palace of the Republic in East German society is explored, including its role as a venue for diverse events ranging from concerts to political assemblies. We discuss the pivotal role of music in 1980s West and East Germany, and how the Palace became a stage for international music stars.

    The narrative then shifts to the Palace's involvement in the events leading to the fall of the Berlin Wall, including the GDR's 40th anniversary protests, Gorbachev's visit, and the historic vote for reunification within the Palace of the Republic.

    The episode concludes by examining the Palace's final years, including the discovery of asbestos contamination, its temporary repurposing for cultural events, and ultimate demolition. We then explore the Humboldt Forum's construction and its current role as a reflection of Germany's ongoing reconciliation with its colonial past, the controversy surrounding its funding, and its evolving place in Berlin's cultural landscape.

    Links & Resources

    ● Humboldt Forum Website: https://www.humboldtforum.org/en/

    ● Exhibition "Blown Away: The Palace of the Republic" https://www.humboldtforum.org/en/programm/laufzeitangebot/exhibition/hin-und-weg-der-palast-der-republik-ist-gegenwart-119504/

    ● Dirk Oschmann's book "Der Osten: eine westdeutsche Erfindung" https://www.ullstein.de/werke/der-osten-eine-westdeutsche-erfindung/hardcover/9783550202346

    Music Credits

    ● For background music and SFX: Pixabay

    ● For national and international hymns: public domain



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    41 mins
  • Berlin, October 7.

    Berlin, October 7.
    Oct 7 2024
    What can be added to the flood of words - some pathetic, some ambiguous - that flowed across Europe yesterday and today on the anniversary of 7 October? What more can be said to convey the atmosphere here in Berlin in these suspended days?Today, flags are flying at half-mast on all public buildings in the city. When it comes to symbolic gestures, Germany is unrivalled in Europe. Tonight, President Steinmeier has attended an ecumenical service in memory of the pogrom victims. Chancellor Olaf Scholz predictably recorded a video statement yesterday.What about substance - both human and political? Since yesterday, Berlin's walls have been covered with spray-painted slogans calling for 'Free Gaza' and 'Free Palestine'. Pro-Palestinian demonstrations, repeatedly authorised in the hope that they would be peaceful, were again broken up by the police on Saturday and Sunday. Predictably, these rallies quickly shifted from calls for Palestinian "freedom" to advocacy of Israel's destruction and expressions of solidarity with Hezbollah, the Islamic Republic and Hamas. This development follows a familiar pattern: incitement to racial hatred, calls for genocide and support for terrorist organisations banned in Germany - all criminal offences. Such a result is hardly surprising.Then there are the GDR-DDR nostalgics - self-proclaimed true pacifists who still fondly remember the state whose foundation is celebrated on 7 October, coinciding with Vladimir Putin's birthday. These nostalgics have revived their old solidarity with Palestine by waving Palestinian flags. One such flag-waver is my neighbour, a practising Catholic. This might be acceptable if the Israeli and Lebanese flags were flying next to him, because a true Catholic should be committed to universal peaceful coexistence. But no - when it comes to Israel, when it comes to Jews, peace is never universal.A few hundred metres from my home stands a famous East Berlin monument: the colossal head of Ernst Thälmann, founder of the German Communist Party (KPD). A hero in his own right, deserving some respect. And yet last night the base of the statue was defaced with the red triangle symbol of Hamas - the new swastika - and the slogan 'Free Gaza'. This has happened twice in the space of a year: December 2023 and October 2024.It's comforting to think that Europe's only problem with anti-Semitism is 'imported' from Arab countries via migrants. But that's not the case. It's comforting to think that those who defaced Thälmann's statue were poorly integrated second- or third-generation children of immigrants. But that's not true either. The area is predominantly inhabited by native German youths who, unlike migrants, are well aware of Thälmann's identity.It's convenient to believe that our European leaders - Macron, Baerbock and others - are exerting pressure and criticism "for Israel's own good". To some extent this is true. But to give credibility to our criticism, we must first face up to what's happening on our own streets and in our offices in Berlin.A year ago, colleagues from the company's self-proclaimed Arab community offered me Arab sweets in an office I visited. At the time, I didn't ask what they were celebrating. Later I realised it was Monday, 9 October 2023. They were commemorating the events of the previous weekend. In the same offices, being openly Israeli or Jewish is discouraged - a reality that predates 7 October. Notably, this attitude comes not from Arab colleagues, but from German, French, Bulgarian and Italian ones.Berlin, we have a problem - right here among us. This problem exists regardless of how Israel conducts its war - well, badly, disproportionately, or perhaps in the only way possible. It's a war that Israel didn't start, and one in which, unlike in 2001, none of us have sought to engage as a united Western front. We've left Israel to deal with it on its own, or with some US support. Europe? Absent, except for Baerbock's fruitless trips and Josep Borrell's often counterproductive statements as the EU's foreign policy representative.Let's go back to Berlin, the heart of Europe. Here and now, instead of endlessly reciting "Never Again Is Now" like a Virgin Mary's novena, we must face the reality of a resurgent, eternal anti-Semitism. This hatred sometimes masquerades as anti-Zionism, sometimes not.In a lengthy editorial today (in German, paywalled) Matthias Döpfner, CEO of Axel Springer - which owns Bild, Welt, Politico and Business Insider - tackles the issue head-on and delves into its roots: The eternal anti-Semite has haunted the world for centuries [...] and is now experiencing its politically correct revival in the woke movement at universities and elsewhere. Where does this come from? And what is the cause of woke and non-woke, right-wing, left-wing and Islamist anti-Semitism? The shortest and most succinct answer has four letters: envy.In his book "Why the Germans? Why the Jews?" the German historian Götz Aly reveals how deeply ...
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    3 mins
  • Cossacks in Friuli 1944-45

    Cossacks in Friuli 1944-45
    Oct 2 2024
    Cossacks have long captured the imagination—an exotic, faraway people often portrayed as fierce warriors, freedom lovers, and adventure seekers. As a child, I too was captivated by simplified versions of Russian classics like Gogol's "Taras Bulba" and Tolstoy's "The Cossacks," which romanticized them as noble warriors. The vivid illustrations from these books haunted my childhood dreams for years. However, the reality—especially during World War II—is far more complex and darker than these romanticized portrayals suggest. Their atrocities against Jewish people have often been minimised, and historians have long relegated their role as Nazi collaborators in Western Europe to a mere footnote, overlooked by most.In 1944, the Cossacks arrived in Friuli, in the far northeast corner of Italy. They came not on a heroic mission, but to do the Nazis' dirty work, lured by the promise of a new homeland. In the end they were betrayed - by the Nazis, by the British Army, by the whole world negotiating the end of the Second World War. The only exception were the poor mountain villagers who, despite having to endure them, eventually learned to coexist and empathise with these unexpected occupiers.This story unfolds in the part of Europe where I was born, at the crossroads of East and West, North and South of the continent. It's a European story - forgotten, but crucial to understanding the complexities of our past.Have you been possessed by the devil to come to this country?(Friulian) "Vejso vût il diaul a vignî in chest paîs?" "Have you been possessed by the devil to come to this country?"(Russian) "Brodili, brodili, brodili." "We wandered, wandered, wandered."This is an honest exchange between two women: one, asking, is from Carnia—a small, mountainous region that separates Friuli from Austria. It’s a region within a region, still unique today for its language and cultural identity.Now, many of you listening might not even know where Friuli or Carnia are. But if you pull up Google Maps, you’ll find them tucked away in the top-right corner of Italy, bordering Austria and Slovenia. Together with Trieste, they form Italy's northeasternmost edge—a place where kingdoms and empires have clashed, mixed, and left their mark.It’s the region where the brutal Isonzo front was fought during World War I, where the Nazis occupied during the Second World War, and where, until just 35 years ago, the Iron Curtain began—stretching from Trieste to Stettin. I spent my first 18 years living in the shadow of that curtain.But let’s go back to Carnia: this small, rugged land of mountains and narrow valleys, where Carnic Friulian is spoken—a language born from the fusion of Celtic, Latin, German, and ancient Slavic. Here, the grand events of the world—the empires, wars, and nations that rose and fell—filtered in only as stories. Tales brought back by mountain men who, driven by necessity, emigrated to Austria, France, Switzerland, Germany, even Russia. They’d leave for months or years, returning with a little money and a lot of stories.Carnia was isolated, inhabited by tough, proud people, accustomed to solitude. Few outsiders came here. That is, until 1944, when, in the chaos of World War II, the Nazis brought in a strange mix of Cossack and Caucasian peoples to occupy the region. They were there to crush the partisans, perhaps even to settle—a new homeland for the Cossacks, a "Kosakenland" outside their native lands.This wasn’t just an army—it was an entire displaced people on the move, refugees mixed with soldiers, swept along in the tide of the Nazi war machine. And so, a Cossack woman stood before a Carnic woman, asking for shelter. For eleven long months, they would share a home, memories, and their lives—after wandering, wandering, wandering, in search of a lost homeland.Why did Càrnia become so crucial for the Nazis in 1944? After Italy signed the armistice on September 8, 1943, switching sides and ceasing to fight the Allies, the Nazis swiftly occupied Friuli, Trieste, and Istria. They established the Operationszone Adriatisches Küstenland—the Operational Zone of the Adriatic Littoral—which was, in all but name, a Nazi protectorate.As in other occupied territories, the Wehrmacht guarded key towns and military objectives, while the SS focused on crushing resistance. However, in Friuli, especially in the mountains of Carnia, the SS struggled. By late winter and early spring 1944, partisan battalions had grown stronger, bolstered by young recruits seeking refuge in the highlands.By summer 1944, the partisan movement in Friuli reached its zenith. Relentless sabotage, attacks on German installations, and the elimination of numerous Nazi-Fascist garrisons led to the liberation of several areas.Two "Free Zones" were established—one of them in Carnia, a thorn in the Nazis' side. From these mountains, partisans could block all key passes and cut off German supply lines.Carnia's free zone was ...
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    1 hr and 2 mins
  • Unequal Memories.

    Unequal Memories.
    Sep 3 2024

    In this episode, we explore the contrasting memories of the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact across Eastern and Western Europe, examining how this pivotal event continues to shape European identity. We delve into the pact’s far-reaching impact on countries like Poland, Belarus, Ukraine, the Baltic States, and Finland, bringing personal stories and historical insights to the forefront. The episode also looks at how the Soviet Union—and later Russia—navigated and reshaped the narrative around the pact, concluding with the ongoing challenges of creating a shared European historical memory.

    Key Points:

    Divergent Memories: The Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact holds vastly different meanings across Europe. While Western Europe often views it as a precursor to World War II, Eastern and Central Europeans see it as the moment that ignited the war, with both Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union bearing equal blame.

    The Secret Protocol: This hidden agreement carved Eastern Europe into German and Soviet spheres of influence, a fact that Western memory often overlooked. This selective remembrance shows how historical narratives can be manipulated.

    Poland’s Struggle: Poland, the first victim of the pact, faced brutal invasions from both Germany and the Soviet Union, leaving deep scars on the nation’s memory and identity.

    Belarus’s Perspective: Belarus remains attached to the Soviet interpretation of the pact as a “reunification,” a view that has drawn criticism from neighboring countries like Poland.

    Ukraine’s Shift: Since Russia’s 2014 invasion of Crimea, Ukraine has re-evaluated its history, now recognizing the pact’s devastating consequences and holding both Stalin and Hitler accountable.

    The Baltic States’ Fight: Annexed by the Soviet Union after the pact, the Baltic States endured decades of oppression. Their struggle for independence culminated in the historic Baltic Way demonstration in 1989.

    Finland’s Complex History: Finland, though not annexed, suffered territorial losses and endured the Winter War due to the pact. Their history reflects a nuanced relationship with both the Soviet Union and Nazi Germany.

    Moldova and Romania’s Wounds: The Soviet annexation of Bessarabia, facilitated by the pact, left a lasting impact on the collective memories of Moldova and Romania, shaping their identities to this day.

    Russia’s Reinterpretation: Initially, the Soviet Union denied the existence of the pact’s secret protocols. Under Putin, however, Russia has reframed the pact as a strategic necessity, even displaying the original documents in a 2019 exhibition.

    The EU’s Role: The entry of Eastern and Central European countries into the EU brought their diverse memories of the pact into the European political dialogue. The establishment of August 23 as a day of remembrance sparked debates on how to collectively honor the victims of totalitarian regimes.

    Today, tomorrow:

    The memory of the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact continues to shape Europe’s identity and politics. The challenge lies in crafting a shared historical narrative that respects the varied experiences of all European nations. This episode is a reminder of the importance of honest historical reflection in building a united European future.

    Featured Voices:

    Historian Roger Moorhouse

    Personal stories from those impacted by the pact

    Quotes from historical figures and media sources

    Further Reading/Listening:

    The Devil’s Alliance: Hitler’s Pact with Stalin by Roger Moorhouse

    Articles on the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact and its impact across Europe

    Other episodes of the Beyond Berlin podcast

    For more materials and the full script of this episode, visit:

    beyondberlin.substack.com



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    39 mins
  • Remembering the Baltic Way of 1989.

    Remembering the Baltic Way of 1989.
    Aug 25 2024

    In this episode, we travel back to 23 August 1989 to witness a extraordinary moment in history - the Baltic Way. Before social media, smartphones and the digital revolution, nearly two million people across Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania joined hands to form a human chain stretching 675 kilometres. This extraordinary act of unity was not just a protest, but a powerful demand for independence and the right to self-determination.

    We explore how this peaceful demonstration was organised in just five weeks, without modern technology and under the watchful eyes of the Soviet authorities. We also look at the historical significance of 23 August, the anniversary of the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact, which secretly divided Eastern Europe between Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union.

    The Baltic Way was a turning point, drawing global attention to the Baltic states' struggle for freedom and ultimately leading to their independence from the Soviet Union. Through personal stories, historical context and the power of collective action, this episode sheds light on one of the most inspiring peaceful protests in history.

    Read more and subscribe for free at Beyondberlin.substack.com

    Music Credits:

    The Baltics Are Waking Up! – A trilingual song composed for the Baltic Way protest (Public Domain)

    The Daugava – A folk song celebrated in the Baltic States (Private reocording)

    Music tapestry licensed by Serge Pavkin

    More information about the music and links, plus links tp photo galleries and video footage on beyondberlin.substack.com.



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    29 mins
  • Farewell, Germany!

    Farewell, Germany!
    Aug 19 2024

    Today, we revisit a momentous day in Berlin's history—August 31, 1994, when the last brigade of Russian troops stationed in the former East Germany departed, marking the end of an era. Against the backdrop of a cool late summer day, ceremonies filled the city, with Chancellor Helmut Kohl and Russian President Boris Yeltsin presiding over the farewell.

    In this episode, we explore the profound significance of this day for Berlin, Germany, and Europe. We recount the largest peacetime redeployment of troops in history—a colossal movement of men and equipment that took nearly four years. This story is not just about the logistics of troop withdrawal but also the complex political landscape that shaped these events, from German reunification to the dissolution of the Soviet Union.

    Topics Covered:

    A Day in Berlin: What the city was like on August 31, 1994, and the extraordinary events that unfolded.

    "Proshchay, Germaniya": The farewell song sung by the departing Russian soldiers and its emotional impact.

    The Largest Peacetime Troop Redeployment: Insights into the scale of the operation, with over half a million people involved.

    Treaties and Negotiations: The intricate network of treaties, including the "2+4" agreement, and the financial arrangements that facilitated the withdrawal.

    The Controversies: Why the withdrawal process remains a contentious topic, especially the exclusion of the GDR government and the environmental consequences.

    Life During Withdrawal: How the troop redeployment affected local communities and the soldiers themselves.

    Final Farewell: A breakdown of the ceremonies on August 31, 1994, from the official speeches to Boris Yeltsin's spontaneous performances.

    Key Moments:

    The Morning of September 1, 1994: A special train departs from Berlin, carrying the last Russian soldiers home.

    The "Caucasus Miracle": How economic negotiations played a crucial role in Germany's reunification and the Soviet withdrawal.

    Markus Meckel’s Critique: The former GDR Foreign Minister's views on how the withdrawal was handled.

    Environmental and Economic Impacts: The hidden costs of the withdrawal and its long-term effects on the region.

    Yeltsin’s Final Speech: The Russian President’s poignant words at Treptower Park, calling for peace and reconciliation.

    Additional Resources:

    Full Audio of Burlakov's Speech: [Link to speech audio]

    Footage of Yeltsin Conducting the Berlin Orchestra: [Link to video]

    Memorable Quotes:

    “Farewell, Germany, farewell! Our dear fatherland awaits us.” — The refrain from "Proshchay, Germaniya."

    “Today is the day of final reconciliation.” — Boris Yeltsin, speaking at Treptower Park.

    Music Featured:

    "Прощай, Германия" (Farewell, Germany) - The song performed by the departing Russian troops.

    "Kalinka" - A lively Russian folk song conducted by Boris Yeltsin himself.

    CREDITS

    * Museum Berlin Karlshorst

    * Museum Berlin Lichtenberg

    * YT Channel: RedSamurai84

    * YT Channel: Militär-Wissensbasis

    * YT Channel: RBB Media

    * YT Channel: AP Archive

    * Markus Meckel, Zu wandeln die Zeiten (Changing times - Memories), 2020

    * The hope of eternal peace with Russia. The Russian troop withdrawal 1990-1994. Public event, 23 July 2024 at the Museum Berlin Karlshorst (YT video here, DEU)Read and subscribe for free on beyondberlin.substack.com



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    43 mins
  • One goal for history: the one time when East Germany beat West Germany.

    One goal for history: the one time when East Germany beat West Germany.
    Jul 10 2024
    It's a crisp Sunday evening in July, and about a hundred of us are sitting on improvised tribunes outside the Gropius Bau, one of Berlin's hippest museums. But we're not here for an art exhibition. We're about to watch something very special - a football match like no other.In front of us, at the centre of the street stage: just two actors, no ball, and the pitch is just four strips of tape stuck to the road. At each end of the street are two goals, like the ones you see in the neighbourhood playgrounds. The street: we're on Niederkirchnerstraße, where you can still see sections of the Berlin Wall. A stone's throw away is Potsdamer Platz, and a few metres away is the Topography of Terror Centre, the former headquarters of the Gestapo.We are watching a match without a ball, but with the original sounds all around us: in our hands we have the original commentaries from our mobile phones, pre-installed and made to sound loud, mimicking the old pocket radios of the seventies. To add to the immersive experience, two large loudspeakers on the side of the road also play the commentary. So we're not just watching - we're using our imaginations to bring a piece of history to life.The game we're about to watch wasn't famous for great goals or fancy footwork. But ask any German over the age of 50, East or West, and they'll tell you it was something special. It was the only time East and West Germany met on a football pitch as equals, with an unexpected, once-in-a-lifetime result. Between sport and politics. It was Saturday 22nd June 1974. Hamburg's Volksparkstadion was packed to the last seat. On the pitch were the national teams of West Germany (the reigning European champions) and East Germany (the underdogs with a point to prove). It was about football. It was also about politics. The East German team were feeling pretty good. They'd already qualified for the next round, so the pressure was off. But make no mistake, they were still the underdogs. As their goalkeeper Jürgen Croy put it years later: "For us, it was a sporting competition in which we had to measure ourselves against very good individual players and a very good team that eventually became world champions. It was a chance for each of us to make a name for ourselves in front of a world audience.On the political side, the pressure was on the players, but also on the fans. The Stasi, the East German secret police, left nothing to chance: only 1,500 supporters were allowed to travel from the GDR to West Germany, among "...citizens who, as conscious socialist citizens, actively participate in political and social life and have proven their political reliability," read the Stasi instructions. Although their loyalty was supposed to be granitic, they were to be "kept under control in their working, living and leisure areas until their departure for the games". The infamous Stasi informers (IM) were used for this purpose. Even the chants in the stadium were dictated from above: the cheer "7-8-9-10-Class", which can be heard in original TV recordings, comes from an East German TV show in which schools competed against each other - the winners were celebrated accordingly, from "1-2-3-" to "8-9-10-", getting louder each time. This was the only chant officially allowed for the supporters of the DDR team. Something unexpected happened on the pitch: the West German team, although full of world-class champions, failed to mount a real attack in the first half. The East Germans held strong.Then, in the 77th minute, Jürgen Sparwasser scored for East Germany with a mixture of luck and talent, was in the wrong position and had misjudged a pass from his team-mate Erich Hamann: "The ball bounced, I wanted to take it with my chest, but it hit my little button nose, changed direction, the three who were chasing me stopped and I was through," he recalled 50 years later, still surprised by the outcome. Just like football. This is how history is sometimes made: with a touch of nose. The East German team celebrated hard that night, and even the ever-watchful Stasi joined in. But this "victory over the class enemy" actually made things harder for East Germany in the long run. They ended up facing tougher teams in the next round - football giants like Brazil, Argentina, and the Netherlands - and were eliminated.Meanwhile, West Germany used the defeat as a wake-up call. They bounced back, sailed through an easier second round with wins over Yugoslavia (2-0), Sweden (4-2) and Poland (1-0), and ended the tournament with a 2-1 victory over the Netherlands.Every story has its hero. Jürgen Sparwasser, now 76, is the unlucky hero of this story and ultimately another victim of the DDR system. Many people there envied his success, believing that it gave him special privileges. In fact, he only received the same bonus as all the other players. In the next few years, like all the great sports champions of the DDR, he was kept under special surveillance by the Stasi, for fear that he ...
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    2 mins