“I bet you hate this time of year, with all the Jewish holidays and stuff, you Nazi,” he said as he heard me speak German on the phone in front of McKeldin Library. I hung up, ignoring him and walking just a little bit faster. Apparently annoyed by my lack of response, this blonde stranger followed me, hitting me with obscenities, curses and foul hatred. It was a really nice (and, quite ironically, Jewish) guy who finally stopped the stranger from harassing me and chased him away.
Yes, I’m German (birth, language, voting rights and all), but I’m no Nazi. My parents aren’t Nazis. Both of my grandfathers fought in the war as German soldiers, not as members of the Nazi party. My great-grandfather was executed in his living room for hiding Jews and homosexuals in the basement of his hotel.
I am tired of being called a Nazi, of being asked whether I hate Jews and of being told I should feel guilt for what happened in my country more than 50 years ago. In fact, I’ll be so bold as to say I refuse to accept guilt for what happened during World War II and the Holocaust. I am not Hitler, a member of the Nazi party or a member of the neo-Nazi party, nor am I someone who stood aside and did nothing to prevent the injustices. Why should I be blamed for other people’s rotten crimes?
I’m sure any German or German descendant on the campus knows what I mean by the intrinsic guilt that comes with being German. As though the identity crisis of growing up and figuring out what to do in life isn’t enough, I will always have to deal with the identity issues that come with being German.
I first learned about Hitler and the Holocaust in third grade. I visited Dachau, a concentration camp in Germany, in fifth grade. I was taught every brutal detail of the war, the Holocaust and the resistance (which is hardly even touched on in most American schools) before I reached the age of 12. Germany is in no way ignoring what happened. The mantra is “never forget.”
I understand the importance of never letting this horrible time in history escape our memories. We can never let anything like this happen again. But what I cannot understand and will not accept is why the teenagers and twenty-somethings of Germany today should be blamed or feel guilty. This guilt and blame only promotes fear, resentment and hatred, the very roots of the Holocaust itself.
I visit my family in Germany every winter, and each time I notice my generation is becoming more resistant to the blame. Little German flags have been appearing on car and moped bumpers. Flags are being waved at soccer games. The colors red, black and gold have crept their way back into daily life. A certain patriotism is brewing within the younger generation of Germany. Yet, there are still many who believe patriotism is taboo. My good friend’s Ford Focus hatchback was smashed to pieces less than a year ago because of a little German flag bumper sticker. She found her car in the driveway the next morning, covered with obscene graffiti labeling her as a Nazi. She is Jewish.
Good guys and bad guys come in all shapes, sizes and nationalities. Look at your own country’s history (no matter where you are from), I am sure there is something ugly to be found. Consider the 1950s and ’60s, the era of the Civil Rights Movement. Racism was rampant. Violence and hatred were out of control. But are the children of the ’80s and ’90s blamed for this? Should they feel guilty?
We do feel resentment for anyone with a Nazi past. We do feel sadness and disgust when thinking about what happened in our own country. But we are not natural-born killers, nor are we inherently racist. When will it be possible to feel comfortable as a German and to be able to answer the question “where are you from?” without hesitating and feeling shame? I would like to be a proud German without being considered a Nazi. It is time to forgive the youth of Germany for what their ancestors did.
Anika Fontaine is a junior marketing major. She can be reached at amfontaine@comcast.net.
