I keep thinking about the physical aftermath of Wednesday's insurrection at the Capitol, and of how it connects to another shard of history: the aftermath of Nazism, the Holocaust and World War II in Germany.

🧵🧵🧵(Really big) thread🧵🧵🧵
As WWII drew to a bloody end, Germany found itself in the crosshairs of two advancing armies: the Western Allies and the Soviets.

Germany's capital, Berlin, was the epicenter of Nazism, and one building there was a particularly potent symbol of the regime.
After Germany unified in 1871, its parliament was known as the Reichstag, or imperial diet. From 1884 on, it met in this grand building (also called the Reichstag).

Photo: Albert Radke/Wikimedia
From 1916 on, the grand words Dem Deutschen Volke, or "to the German People," welcomed legislators at the building's entrance.

The slogan was cast in bronze cannons that had been captured from Napoleon's army a century earlier.

Photo: Lighttracer/Wikimedia
Either way, the fire seriously damaged the Reichstag. Its husk remained in grand and disheveled state while the Nazis made the parliament it was supposed to house all but obsolete.

During the years Hitler was dictator, the Reichstag only convened 20 times.
By the time the war neared its end, Berlin was a wreck. And so was the Reichstag. The Battle of Berlin took what was left and obliterated it to smithereens.

Photos: Hewitt/Imperial War Museums/Unknown
Most of Hitler's army had been obliterated, too. They were completely outnumbered by the Soviets. Militia members, old men and teenage boys fought back, but on May 2, 1945, the Red Army took its prize.
This iconic image by Yevgeny Khaldei—staged with a flag made of tablecloths and doctored to look even more dramatic—became a major touchpoint of nationalism and pride in the Soviet Union.
As soldiers overran the building, they took out years of frustrations on it—anger with Hitler, the Nazi Party and the German public. Rage about the war and its toll.

Photo: Yevgeny Khaldei
Soldiers came to look at the husk of the Reichstag and celebrate their victory. They left calling cards on every surface they could find, using pieces of charred wood and chalk to spell out their names and leave messages to the Germans.

Photos: Yevgeny Khaldei/Unknown
"They've paid the price for Leningrad." "Gornin was here, and spat." "You reap what you sow." "Anatoly ❤️ Galina"

The entire interior of the building was covered in graffiti, as high as soldiers could reach.
(This still has modern echoes: Last year, RT, a Russian state-controlled network that pumps pro-Russia messaging to the Western world, even released a font using the graffiti.)
TW: Language, sexual violence
.
.
.
.
.

There were other, more sinister messages—a threat against Hitler that basically boils down to "Fuck Hitler in the ass" and many obscenities that pointed to the rape of German women.
TW: Sexual violence
.
.
.
.
.

Indeed, mass rape came with the Red Army. At least 100,000 women of all ages are thought to have been raped in Berlin in the battle's aftermath, many repeatedly.
After the war, the ruin of the Reichstag was just...there. West Germany's seat of government moved to Bonn, and though the front was cleaned up by "rubble women" in the late '40s, the building stood vacant.

Photo: Herbert Hoffman
The building was in the western zone, and was refurbished in the '60s by architect Paul Baumgarten. He did away with many original architectural flourishes and covered up most of the interior—including some graffiti—w/ fiberboard.

Photo: Josef Heinrich Darchinger
When Germany reunified in October 1990, the ceremony took place at the old Reichstag. The German parliament finally agreed to move the seat of government back to Berlin and to the Reichstag building.

In 1995, Christo and Jeanne-Claude "wrapped" it.

Photo: Oscar Wagenmans
As workers undid the renovation from the '60s, they found about 200 pieces of graffiti. And instead of removing it, architect Norman Foster, who was in charge of the dramatic renovation, decided to keep it.

Photo: ptwo/Flickr
There was a big debate on how to address the graffiti, especially the racist and violent messages. To many Germans, it represented a past they desperately wanted to turn their backs on.
Others saw it as evidence of Germany's humiliation, messages that had no place in the reunified country's seat of government. But a subset of lawmakers along with conservators and the architect argued that the graffiti must be preserved and displayed inside the working building.
They prevailed. All of the graffiti was documented and translated and the most offensive messages—aside from that one obscene threat to Hitler—were removed.

The rest became part of the design of the building.
Norman Foster designed architectural "frames" around them that point to both past and present. He also preserved other controversial remnants of the siege, like bullet holes in the building's facade.

Photo: Auxburg/Wikimedia
(Dead end! The thread concludes here: https://twitter.com/heroinebook/status/1348721668810629120)
You can follow @heroinebook.
Tip: mention @twtextapp on a Twitter thread with the keyword “unroll” to get a link to it.

Latest Threads Unrolled:

By continuing to use the site, you are consenting to the use of cookies as explained in our Cookie Policy to improve your experience.