Munich, notorious in recent history as the capital of the Nazi movement, is the site of Gavriel Rosenfeld's stimulating inquiry into the German collective memory of the Third Reich. Rosenfeld shows, with the aid of a wealth of photographs, how the city's urban form developed after 1945 in direct reflection of its inhabitants' evolving memory of the Second World War and the Nazi dictatorship.
In the second half of the twentieth century, the German people's struggle to come to terms with the legacy of Nazism has dramatically shaped nearly all dimensions of their political, social, and cultural life. The area of urban development and the built environment, little explored until now, offers visible evidence of the struggle. By examining the ways in which the people of Munich reconstructed the ruins of their historic buildings, created new works of architecture, dealt with surviving Nazi buildings, and erected new monuments to commemorate the horrors of the recent past, Rosenfeld identifies a spectrum of competing memories of the Nazi experience.
Munich’s postwar development was the subject of constant controversy, pitting representatives of contending aesthetic and mnemonic positions against one another in the heated battle to shape the city’s urban form. Examining the debates between traditionalists, modernists, postmodernists, and critical preservationists, Rosenfeld shows that the memory of Nazism in Munich has never been "repressed" but has rather been defined by constant dissension and evolution. On balance, however, he concludes that Munich came to embody in its urban form a conservative view of the past that was inclined to diminish local responsibility for the Third Reich.
Gavriel David Rosenfeld is President of the Center for Jewish History in New York City and Professor of History at Fairfield University. His areas of academic specialization include the history of Nazi Germany, memory studies, and counterfactual history. He is an editor of The Journal of Holocaust Research and edits the blog, The Counterfactual History Review, which features news, analysis, and commentary from the world of counterfactual and alternate history.
An insightful and extremely readable account of the process of political exorcism of Munich's public space, exposing all major inconsistencies and faults of various strategies of denazification.
I would recommend it to people interested in Nazi architecture and its postwar afterlife, or the workings of collective memory shaping and shaped by the public space in general.
On my initial evening walk through the city's historic center, or Altstadt, I was duly impressed, as are most first-time tourists, with the its grand, floodlit buildings: the white, neobaroque Justizpalast looming above the kinetic mosaic of speeding automobiles, dancing fountains, and neon-clad commercial buildings of the Karlsplatz, the soaring, twin onion domes of the gothic Frauenkirche, and the monumental, ochre-colored facade of the baroque Theatinerkirche. I confess to having been particularly impressed by the much maligned, overscaled, neo-Gothic Neues Rathaus, or new city hall, at the Marienplatz, whose bewildering array of allegorical and historical statuary depicting former monarchs, Bavarian lions and grosteque mythic beasts seized my eye and I enticed my imagination. Compared to other German cities I had seen, Munich seemed to possess a unique aesthetic charm and allure...
One of the first prominent buildings to receive the people of Munich's concerned attention was the Peterskirche. Dating back to 1169, the oldest church in the city had been hit during Allied aerial attacks and suffered severe damage to its tower, roof, nave and choir, as well as its baroque and rococo interior, including several altars. Although the Peterskirche's interior columns, pilasters and vault were partially intact and merely had to be repaired, the heavily damaged altars and delicate rococo ornamentation had to be nearly completely reconstructed from prewar photographs. Aware of the objections that such an effort violated the authenticity of the rococo interior, the task of reconstruction was legitimate so long as evidence of its original form existed and so long as the same techniques were used. The materials and techniques employed in this effort were not the same as those used when the church was originally built. Once again, we have the tower of St. Peter. Its trusted silhouette soars in the sky as if nothing had happened.
As the event that set the general tone for the reconstruction of Munich, the decision to rebuild the Peterskirche hastened the reconstruction of the city's main architectural landmark, the Frauenkirche. Although th elate Gothic cathedral had suffered heavy damage to its trademark twin onion domes, vault, choir and nave, as well as to its interior neo-Gothic pulpit and altars, its immense importance to Munich's citizenry led to its swift reconstruction as a result of air raids. Without the Frauenkirche, Munich would not Munich. Despite this sentiment, the reconstruction of the Frauenkirche was somewhat less exact than that of the Peterskirche. Although the exterior of the cathedral was generally rebuilt to its prewar appearance, the extensive destruction of the neo-Gothic interior required a far simpler restoration. Painted white throughout, the interior was sparsely outfitted with a new, relief-encrusted, reinforced-concrete pulpit, modest stained-glass windows, and modern lighting fixtures. To a degree, this inexact restoration reflected a certain willingness to accept the extensive losses to the cathedral's interior identity.
While many other churches such as the 17th century Theatinerkirche, the late 16th century Michaelskirche and the early 18th century churches like the Burgersaalkirche, the Heilig-Geist Kirche, and St. Anna, were also reconstructed in an exact or nearly exact manner after 1945, prominent secular buildings were similarly rebuilt. By far the largest and most expensive project was that of rebuilding the historic seat of the Wittelsbach monarchy, the Residenz.
Having rejected modernism, traditionalists asserted the need to return to architectural tradition. For many, it was not new and unproven innovations that should be sought for reconstruction but the "eternal values of the past" such as the services of the traditional artisan. Others insisted that the conservative nature of the city required a "conservative even restorationist approach to construction", lest Munich surrender its unique features and become a "commonplace city." To a large extent, traditionalists based their conservative architectural position upon their belief that the roots of Nazism lay in modernity and modernism. After 1945, traditionalists drew upon antimodern arguments from the Weimar era and blamed Nazism on modern forces such as the rule of technology, the belief in progress and materialism, and the decline of spirit.
In Munich, the demolition of Nazi structures effectively removed those physical signs of the city's past from view and, thus eventually, from memory.
A little repetitive and set in style but the content definitely makes up for that. This is incredible history and I feel well prepared to appreciate the architecture and monuments when I visit Munich!