Neo-Nazis and Anti-Fascists: Protest and Counter Protest in Regensburg

Last night (Tuesday) there was a noisy, if not large, protest and counter protest in Haidplatz, just behind my apartment on Hinter de Grieb. Regensburg has an active neo-Nazi movement, the Nationaldemokratische Partei Deutschlands [NPD] Kreisverbandes Regensburg, headed by one Wille Wiener. The Regensburg Nazis made the German headlines not long ago by seriously beating an Iraqi man they encountered on the Munich subway.

This June when the NPD set up a recruiting table in the Kassiansplatz there was a confrontation with anti-fascists who gathered to protest. There was a scuffle and a couple of anti-fascist protesters were arrested and Wiener and the Nazis withdrew issuing threatens. Little if any of this was reported in the Regensburg press which is more concerned with boosting the community than with reportage of embarrassing reality.
[http://de.indymedia.org/2005/06/121021.shtml Regensburg: Eskalation am NPD-Infostand]

Last night’s episode came after it was announced that Michel Friedman, a former CDU politician was coming to Regensburg to give a reading to publicize his new book, Kaddisch vor Morgengrauen. Friedman is a colorful and controversial character whose mother and father were “Schindler Jews” saved from Auschwitz Birkenau by Oskar Schindler. In the 1980s he was a member of the Frankfort Central Jewish Council and a rising star in the Hesse CDU until he was sidetracked by fund-raising improprieties and by particularly intemperate personal attacks on Chancellor Helmut Kohl. Later he was involved in a prostitution and cocaine scandal and convicted of drug possession but he managed to rehabilitate himself and now moderates a weekly political talk show on the N24 news station.
When Wiener’s Nazis learned of Friedman's book reading at a hotel on Haidplatz, they organized a protest citing Friedman’s moral corruption. Within hours the Regensburg political Left, mostly students, anarchists and the local multicolored, multi-pierced punks, had organized a counter protest. The Regensburg police moved quickly and in force—body armor and full riot gear—to cordon off Haidplatz to keep the two groups apart. The result was the loud exchange of last night.
What strikes me is the openness with which neo-Nazis are allowed to operate in the reunified Germany. In the old FGR, the display of Nazi symbols and the promotion of its ideology were illegal. While the former is still disallowed, the ideology is now protected by free speech laws. In the 2004 elections, the anti-democratic, racist, anti-Semitic, xenophobic NPD of Brandenburg and Saxony won seats in the German parliament.

Declaring “Our fathers were not criminals,” NDP head Udo Voigt believes in “the natural law of the inequality” of human beings and has called for “re-evaluating” the crimes of Hitler’s Third Reich. For better or worse, speech is free in Germany and, as in the USA, one takes the good with the bad.

Alana Seaborg: How we spend our rainy days

Since this was the first week we didn't have any classes on Friday, we decided to take advantage of the opportunity and....sleep in. I got up when Jen called me to inform me that Lydia, one of the German tutors, had her car in Regensburg for the day, and wanted to know if a small group of us would like to drive somewhere. After showering and getting some much-needed laundry done, we called her back and Jen, Jaime, Claire and I hopped in the car and headed out into the unknown wilderness around Regensburg. I'd forgotten how much fun it is to ride in a car!

After a 20 minute ride, we found ourselves on a hilltop by the Donau river at the monument Walhalla, created by Ludwig II (we think) and filled with busts of famous Germans. Jaime was the only one who paid the 2.50 euro to get in; the rest of us were far more interested in the beautiful panoramic view.
It was a cloudy day, and had been raining on the drive over, but finally stopped just before we arrived, so the land was clean and wet. The sun was trying to come out and the bit that did make it through made the river water sparkle. The wind was fresh and not quite cold, so it felt good on ours faces as we took in the view. Lydia told us we would have to come back in a month or so when all the leaves on the trees had changed colors...what an amazing picture that will be! In the meantime, we explored around the outside of the actual building and took plenty of pictures.



When it was time to leave, we took a last, longing look and headed back toward the car. A good time was had by all, and we look forward to going back again.

Saturday morning we got up early and caught the 8:45 train to Munich for the first day of Oktoberfest. We timed our arrival perfectly (unintentionally, of course) and stumbled across the parade street just as the parade was getting ready to start. The idea was to follow the parade to the fair grounds for the big party, and in case we missed the thousands of people cramming the streets or the bands and floats marching past, a huge billboard with circled start and end point, labeled "You are here. Go there." pointed out the way we should go.






We excitedly listened to the music as the bands marched down the street and strained to see over the crowd. Of course, all the bands were dressed in traditional German garb, and in the colors of their respective Bundesländer (state) (I know, I will probably mess up some of these titles, so someone correct me if I say something wrong).
the first drumline

Halfway through the parade, it began to drizzle slightly, and as umbrellas went up, I had to vacate my vantage point from the front step of a store in order to squeeze in between people to see the parade. Our group snuggled closer and closer as the parade drew to a close because we were shivering from the cold. Jen and Claire decided that they wouldn't wear their newly purchased dirndles (German traditional dresses) because they would likely freeze to death. Regardless, we watched to the end of the parade before rushing off to get something warm to drink.

Of course, several floats bearing German brand name beers made their appearance, and the floats were filled with singing, drinking individuals. We twice heard "Hey, baby! I wanna know if you'll be my girl!" belted out from a German float, which we found amusing.

brand names make their appearance

When the parade was over we went to a cafe to get some heise schokolade (hot chocolate, which they were out of, unfortunately), then followed what remained of the crowd to the fair grounds and wandered through the rides, beer tents, and other attractions.
merry-go-bar
We decided we should go get a beer at one of the beer tents, but without a reservation, we had to wait until the right number of people had left the tent. An hour passed, during which time some of the groups waiting in line behind us had been able to get inside. Determining that the guard at our door had a vendetta against Americans, and nearly freezing our toes off by this time, we took our leave and headed back to the subway station to head home. Note to everyone: make a reservation at a beer tent before going to the 'Fest, take an umbrella, and go on a weekday.

Regardless, it was a fun trip, and we look forward to going again when it isn't raining.
More later (on to Prague, Paris, and the rest of the world).

Czech and Double Czech

Last week Claire, Kyle, Jennifer, Jaime, Alana, and Morgan asked me to travel with them to Prague. DBahn is running a super price on the round trip—only 39€ to the city of a thousand spires. I had planned to take advantage of the wonderful weather to go trout fishing, but they were very persuasive. Alana had already scoped out the youth hostel scene and reserved a room at the AO; all I hade to do was show up Thursday at the Regensburg bahnhoff.

When I got there I got euros from the geld machine, bought my ticket and a dönner sandwich for a quick dinner on the platform while I waited for the train. The ride to Prague was uneventful. The only glitch was that Alana had forgotten to bring the address of the hostel. Opps.

We after a brief stop in Plzer, we arrived in Prague at 10:40. When we got off the train Morgan was greeted by his mom who had come over for a European experience and off they went.

The rest of us schlepped our stuff into the station and headed off to change our Euro for Czech Koruna. Meanwhile Kyle and Jamie solved the “where is the hostel?” problem. As Yogi Berra famously said: “You can observe a lot just by lookin’. There, above the passage leasing to the subway, was a huge sign “AO Hostel” with address, toll-free phone number, and subway directions. It wasn’t hard to find after that, although we did have to ask a Czech policeman to point us in the right direction when we emerged from ultra-modern subway.

The AO was clean, friendly and communal. It was also cheap—at least the room itself was, but there were a number of extra charges (sheets, breakfast etc) that make me think it’s probably as cheap to stay at pension where breakfast and linen are included and where you have more security and privacy. But this could just be a function of my geezerness. Knowing I would not be the best of company when tired, I elected to sleep. The kids took off to see what there was to see in the immediate area. They found pizza and karaoke.

The next day after a late start we were off. Sightseeing began with the Prague Castle which the guide books say is the city’s most popular destination. We crossed the Vltava River by way of the Mánesův Bridge. The castle is huge, its walls running over 600 yards along the crest of the hill overlooking the city enclosing 18 square acres. It was a wooden stockade with earthworks until the 9th century when Prince Boøivoj began the castle.

The climb to the castle takes you along the Alley of Gold, a winding lane of small houses that cling to the castle walls named for the goldsmiths and alchemists who lived and worked there. In modern times Czech writers, most notablyFranz Kafka, resided in the Gold Alley houses that today are occupied bycraft and souvenir shops.

Inside the wall is the great gothic cathedral of St Vitus begun in 1344 by Emperor Charles IV who in 1357 also commissioned the bridge named for him that connects the Old Town of the castle with the Lesser Town.

The cathedral took 600 centuries to build. The bridge went rather more quickly, but Charles didn't live to either of his projects that came to define the skyline of Prague.

Since its construction castle has been renovated and added on to many times, the last in the 18 century during the reign of Maria Theresa and has served continuously as the seat of government. In our explorations we found what was advertised as "the best ice cream in Prague." Our scientifc taste-tests confirmed that claim--at least to our satisfaction.

After exploring the castle we crossed back over and found a nice (cheap) outdoor café in the Jewish quarter, away from the unbearably touristy central market, and had a late lunch.

As late afternoon came one, we set out to Karlos Most (Charles Bridge) which, guide books notwithstanding, truly is Prague’s tourist central. Hundreds of artists and musicians work the bridge. Karlos Most with the castle in the background may be the most frequently painted scene in the world (note: check Guinness Book of Records). We walked it up and down until evening taking in the scene and people watching.






The brass plaques of Jan Nepomucky and Queen Sofia have been burnished over centuries by the touch of thousands of people. Jan was a priest tortured and executed by King Václav IV because, when commanded to reveal the confession of Queen Sofia whom the king suspected of infidelity, he whispered it into the ear of the king’s dog rather than to the king.

Thus Jan became known as the "martyr of the tongue" and the patron saint of those who resist political authority. To pet the dog is to preserve a secret or, in another version of the legend, be granted a wish.

As evening came the kids wanted to get back and get ready to go out for the night. But I thought it would be fun to take the 1 ½ boat tour of the Vltava and they were nice to me and agreed. It was the best 10€ I’ve ever spent. A MUST DO for any trip to Prague.

We finished at dark—too late to go clubbing--but we found a great authentic Czech restaurant that was still serving. We had gourmet meals for what you’d pay for two Happy Meals in the States, but perhaps as memorable was a HUGE barbe (carp-like fish) in an aquarium in the restaurant. “How old is that fish,” I asked? It was this big when we got it nine years ago, said the owner, holding his hands about 5 inches apart. I have no picture (my batteries were dead by then) but perhaps Alana will send hers along.

We went own ways for the last day agreeing to meet later at the station. I spent the day looking through the old city trying to find places off the beaten track. There are a few where at least tourists come singly or in pairs, not herds. One is Lennon's Peace Wall where dissident Czechs protested the old regime by writing anti-Communist graffiti and lyrics from John Lennon's songs foreshadowing the Velvet Revolution.

The graffiti today lacks the content and depth of the Communist-era protests, more like tagging, but in a city of artists even tagging can be artistic.

The return trip was quite an adventure. After crossing the German border the train was pulled off to a side track with no platform and were ordered (there is no other word) without explanation to a small Waldbahn (Forest train). We passengers, old men and grandmas included, had to hop to the ground (take that grandma) and stumble with baggage to the other train. We rode it two stops and were again ordered off and onto busses (again no explanation) which to us to another station where to trains were waiting—one to Nuremberg and the other to Munich via Regensburg.

I was not pleased and said so. Aboard the last train, a young German told me that he knew this would happen. He was informed when he booked his ticket online two weeks before. Well, I said, with obvious irritation, no one told me. Certainly they did, said the young man. No, they didn’t, I relied. I bought my ticket Thursday in Regensburg. Here is the printed itinerary. This little umleitung isn’t mentioned. Nor did the other passengers seem to know. Ah, well, he replied, I thought it went rather smoothly. We are only 2 minutes behind schedule.

"Indeed," I thought to myself. "One thing you can say about the folks at Deutsche Bahn--they make the trains run on time."

Stammtisch--for the regulars

Tonight was the first of what promises to be a regular Tuesday night gathering. We now have a stammtisch (a table reserved for regular patrons) at Kneitinger Brauerei. Until now most of the gang only knew stammtisch (if they knew it at all) as a term used to describe a weekly gathering organized by well-meaning language teachers to encourage speaking German in a social setting.

In fact the stammtich is one of the most important German social institutions. At these reserved tables groups of like-minded regulars came together to talk politics, literature, music, hunting and fishing--any number of things that might form the basis voluntary association (Verein). For good and ill these beerhall Vereine were central to German cultural and political development.
Stammtich clubs contributed to the spread of the Enlightment in Germany and to German liberal and republican sentiments, leading to the failed Revolutions of 1848 that sent thousands of Germans (including my father's family) to America seeking political asylum. There they founded German towns (like Fulda, Ohio), brewed great beer, and became ardent supporters of the Union in the Civil War.

Like most social institutions, however, (including the FORCE) the stammtich has a darkside.
Thus Hitler launced his failed 1923 rebellion, the infamous (and comic) Beerhall Putsch from the Nazi stammtich at the Munich Bürgerbräu Keller.

But I think it safe to say that our stammtisch will not turn to the darkside--except when we order ein Dunkels mit sechs, Kraut, and Brot.

Regensburg--Germany's Hollywood?

Well , maybe not Hollywood, but certainly a favorite shooting locale for German directors. A couple of weeks ago the film Kommissar Lukas finished shooting.

Now another film crew is making a nuisance of itself on the city streets shooting Die Familie Sonnenfeld, a family-oriented sitcom similar to the late-70's show American show Eight is Enough.

Yesterday as I turned on to the pedestrian-only Konigstrasse, I saw a camera dolly and paused at the intersection. But only for a moment before some assistant to the assistant director urgently motioned for me to keep walking: just be natural; pretend nothing is out of the ordinary!

It's hard to shoot a believable guy-walking-down-the-street scene when everybody keeps stopping in midstride to stare at the film-making process. But its hard not to stare at a man trying to be natural with an assistant to the assistant to the assistant walking in front of him with a 6x4 reflecting panel to assure sufficient light on a blindingly sunny day (the first we've had in sometime).

That afternoon, I encountered the crew in he Dom Platz where I had gone to do a little busking--playing guitar and singing for spare change (why hide my light under a basket, eh). One of the crew, a young kid, sat down and listened. After a while, he offered that he wrote songs and played (I'm an artist, he said). So I passed him my guitar.

He sang song of his own about suicide--reminicent of "Don't Fear the Reaper." I asked if he had heard of Blue Oyster Cult but it was before his time. I asked for more and he did three more cheery tunes about death, alienation, and isolation.

Eventually we ended up doing a pretty good duet of Eleanor Rigby with 2-part harmony on the
Ah, look at all the lonely people Ah, look at all the lonely people.

I told him about www.garageband.com -- a site set up by the Beatle's producer, George Martin--where he could get his music out for free without a record contract.
And a good time was had by all.