07-05-2025
80 years after WWII in Europe: How Germany's past shapes its present
The entrance of the German-Russian Museum in Berlin, where Germany signed its unconditional surrender that ended World War II. ST PHOTO: MARKUS ZIENER
– On a spring afternoon in Berlin's eastern district of Karlshorst, the Ukrainian flag fluttered alone in front of the four-columned entrance of the German-Russian Museum.
Dr Jorg Morre stood beneath the flag, his silver hair catching the light as he surveyed the building he had overseen since 2009. The 61-year-old historian had watched the museum evolve over the years, but none of the changes had been as dramatic as those since February 2022.
'On the morning of Feb 24, our caretaker called me,' Dr Morre recalled. 'He said: 'I don't want to hoist the Russian flag today.' That very morning, Russia had launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine.'
'I immediately knew he was right,' Dr Morre added. The Ukrainian flag went up alone that day – and has remained ever since.
Even the museum's nameplate changed. Where metal letters once spelt out 'German-Russian Museum' on the facade, the words 'German-Russian' were hastily covered with tape – a symbolic gesture of solidarity with Ukraine and a clear stand against aggression.
'We wanted to send a clear signal,' Dr Morre explained in an interview with The Straits Times.
The museum was once the officers' casino of the Wehrmacht, or Nazi armed forces, and later served as the Berlin headquarters of Soviet troops in the final days of the war. The site was where Germany signed its final act of unconditional surrender on May 8, 1945, in the presence of Soviet Marshal Georgy Zhukov, as well as Soviet, American, British and French commanders.
After the last Russian troops withdrew from eastern Germany in 1994 – four years after East Germany reunified with West Germany – a bilateral association supported by German and Russian ministries was formed to run the museum. Conceived as a place of reconciliation, it has since become a symbolic front line in Germany's culture of remembrance and its struggle with political identity.
Where regular meetings and annual joint assemblies once took place, active cooperation has largely ended. Today, decisions are communicated only through formal written correspondence, with just one phone call a year to maintain minimal procedural coordination.
'And even that has become ice-cold,' said Dr Morre, who speaks fluent Russian.
A dispute over the scientific advisory board marked the latest low point: The board now includes representatives from Ukraine, Latvia, Lithuania, Belarus, and Moldova. Russia's seat is currently held by a scientist in exile – a decision Moscow strongly opposes.
While the museum's solidarity with Kyiv initially drew support from its visitors, backlash has since followed. The Ukrainian flag was stolen, while Dr Morre has faced personal insults. The guestbook holds pointed criticism: 'It is cynical and incomprehensible that the Ukrainian flag flies instead of the Russian one,' one message reads. 'Labelling Russia solely as an aggressor is a travesty.'
But Dr Morre remains resolute. 'This museum has always been political,' he said. 'And if a Russian president manipulates history, then as a historian, I am obligated to respond.'
For him, Germany's postwar lesson – 'Never Again' – is not just a slogan, but also a civic duty. 'Democracy and peace are not guaranteed,' he said. 'They must be defended.'
Dr Jorg Morre in the room where Germany's leaders signed on May 8, 1945, the documents that formalised the unconditional surrender of the German armed forces to the Allied forces.
ST PHOTO: MARKUS ZIENER
That struggle now plays out not only at remembrance sites but also in the political arena.
Just this month , Germany's domestic intelligence agency , the Federal Office for the Protection of the Constitution, officially classified the far-right Alternative for Germany (AfD) as a right-wing extremist organisation. It is now under nationwide surveillance and marked as potentially unconstitutional.
The AfD, which polls strongly in eastern German states and is making gains elsewhere, has openly questioned Germany's remembrance culture, calling it a 'cult of guilt'. The party advocates closer ties with Russia and criticises German support for Ukraine as misguided.
Mr Friedrich Merz, who will take office as Germany's chancellor from May 6, will be judged not only by his ability to revive the struggling economy, but also by whether he can stem the rise of the AfD.
The leader of the conservative Christian Democratic Union holds a firm stance on Germany's historical responsibility – including the belief that support for Ukraine must not falter.
Remembrance and resistance
May 8, 2025, marks the 80th anniversary of the end of World War II in Europe. After the D-Day landings in Normandy, France – code-named Operation Overlord – on June 6, 1944, it took almost another year of fierce fighting before Adolf Hitler's Germany finally surrendered on May 8, 1945. D-Day is widely regarded as the tipping point of war.
Commemorations and festivities are planned for the 80th anniversary across much of Europe for what has become known as Victory in Europe Day, or VE Day.
For Berlin, standing by Ukraine is seen as part of a broader moral obligation to defend freedom and uphold international order, echoing the painful lessons of the 1930s, when appeasement failed to stop Hitler's rise.
German Chancellor Olaf Scholz, who has a desire to be seen as a 'peace chancellor', has a less hawkish approach towards Russia than Mr Merz.
Since the Russians launched the war in Ukraine in 2022, Germany has provided nearly €50 billion (S$72.9 billion) in military and humanitarian aid to Ukraine. This policy is expected to not only continue under the new government, but may even intensify.
In western Germany, 'Never Again' is often interpreted as a call to confront aggression early.
In eastern Germany, however, attitudes are more ambivalent. Sympathy for Russia runs deep, as the Soviet Union is still widely seen as the liberator from Nazism – a role many believe deserves political recognition.
'The German Democratic Republic in the East is still often seen as a legitimate anti-fascist state,' Dr Morre said, using the official name of East Germany. 'That it was in fact a dictatorship is often overlooked.'
Many in eastern Germany forget – or romanticise – the decades of Soviet repression that followed the war.
Tensions came to the fore recently at a ceremony marking the 80th anniversary of the Battle of Seelow Heights, 100km east of Berlin.
After heavy rain, fragments of the battlefield resurfaced: twisted metal and battered helmets – relics of one of the war's bloodiest clashes. Over three days in April 1945, more than 40,000 German and Soviet soldiers were killed, wounded or captured as 16,000 howitzers, mortars and Katyusha rockets bombarded a 50m-high rise.
On April 19, 1945, the German lines at Seelow broke, opening the road to the Reich's capital. Three weeks later, Germany signed the unconditional surrender in Berlin-Karlshorst, at the very site that Dr Morre oversees.
Today, a 6m-high bronze statue of a Soviet soldier stands watch over the memorial in Seelow, holding a submachine gun and looking west towards Berlin.
To commemorate the battle's 80th anniversary on April 16, 2025, German dignitaries gathered to lay wreaths.
The Foreign Office had discreetly advised against inviting Russian Ambassador Sergey Nechayev, fearing he would use the event for propaganda. Nevertheless, Mr Nechayev appeared – as a private citizen. He laid a wreath and shook hands, a gesture some welcomed, but others saw as provocation.
'Russia shamelessly instrumentalises its 1945 victory to justify today's war against Ukraine,' said historian Hubertus Knabe. 'Just as Nazi Germany once claimed to 'liberate' others, Moscow now claims the same.'
A Russian tank exhibit located next to the entrance of the German-Russian Museum.
ST PHOTO: MARKUS ZIENER
The fight for historical truth
Germany's culture of remembrance has not evolved naturally. It was won through political battles and personal courage.
For decades after the war, myths dominated: Nazi Germany's final military communique on May 9, 1945, lauded the Wehrmacht's 'heroic resistance' against 'overwhelming forces', and spoke of honour and duty. Those who used the term 'liberation' were few – and often shunned.
However, that began to shift in 1985. In a landmark speech to the Bundestag, then German President Richard von Weizsacker declared: 'May 8 was a day of liberation. It freed us all from the inhuman system of National Socialist tyranny.' He warned that 'those who close their eyes to the past will be blind to the present'.
Since then, Germany's remembrance culture has deepened. Memorials now span the country – from the Documentation Centre on Nazi Forced Labour to the satellite concentration camps of Ravensbruck and Buchenwald, the Holocaust Memorial in Berlin and the Topography of Terror exhibition near the former Gestapo headquarters.
Still, remembrance remains contested. In Karlshorst, the museum is no longer just a place of history. It has become a site of confrontation – between past and present, between memory and ideology.
'The battles over history are far from over,' Dr Morre said. 'History is not something you can simply store away in a museum. It lives – and it demands answers.'
Markus Ziener is a professor at Media University Berlin and writes on political and security issues.
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