Is Brandenburg a big “Nazi town”? In fact, the presence of the right wing often affects everyday life without resistance. Daily life in a university town.
Frankfurt (Oder) Taz | My alarm clock is ringing. It’s 8am and I have to go straight to college. The sun is shining. On my way to the tram, a young man with a dog passes me. He has a black sun tattoo on his body. He lives somewhere here. A man I know in his mid-thirties is on the tram. He’s wearing a pitbull t-shirt that’s a little more inconspicuous than a Thor Steinar winter jacket. His kid is the same. I try to avoid his gaze.
While driving, scroll through the reports of the Utopia eV association. V. Frankfurt (Oder) on the incident last evening: 10 right-wing stickers were found, foreigners did not board the bus, young people drove through the city with German flags and insulted people. On average, 5-10 reports are received per day. Sometimes there are only stickers, sometimes there are insults, sometimes physical attacks.
Utopia is one of the reporting centers for right-wing incidents and activities. The Victims’ Perspective (OPP) Brandenburg also keeps statistics. The increase in the number of ‘direct victims’, i.e. victims of right-wing and racist attacks, over the past three years suggests a reversal of the trend. Right-wing stickers are becoming more common, and incidents in public places are also increasing.
With these documents, these clubs are increasingly becoming enemies of the AfD and are forced to fight for funding and survival. The AfD deals with small requests and rejections or funding cuts from the state, federal and city councils (SVV).
This text is taken from an Eastern youth document written during the elections in Thuringia, Saxony and Brandenburg as part of an online workshop funded by the taz Panter Foundation. taz.de/spenden
Apathy at university, seats still vacant
We continue through the train station tunnel. Only there I can see five red squares with a cross on them, which were once swastikas but are now unrecognizable. When I get off the tram, I find a sticker with the imperial flag on it. I report it and quickly remove it.
My seminar is small. The number of students in the Faculty of Culture is decreasing, and it used to be the largest! I feel helpless. The seat of the Student General Council (AStA) remained vacant during the entire election period despite support. The Student Government (StuPA) claimed that it was “too political and not conservative enough.”
Most students are only in Frankfurt for two or three hours a week for classes. One non-German woman said she used to live in Frankfurt but came back and didn’t feel safe there. The 1.5 hour trip from Berlin is a planned trip, and you’re never alone, only in a group.
The left sticker doesn’t stick for long
As soon as the seminar is over, I and the university group will set up a stand in the lobby to educate people about university policy. The Middle East conflict and the AfD are immediate topics of conversation. A friend reported that he found a ‘1%’ sticker in the bathroom. 1% e.V. is an organization founded in 2015 and is classified as right-wing extremist by the Federal Office for the Protection of the Constitution. 1% stands for “German elite.”
There are few stickers here that are not from the right-wing spectrum or that don’t stick around for a long time. Posters from Students for Climate Justice, the university branch of Fridays for Future (FFF), are taken down every day. Extremist counter-posters, such as those calling for a “Frankfurt is still colorful” demonstration, had to be replaced every day.
I’m going home. On my way, I pass a guy with a habit of wearing the logo of the Frankfurt neo-Nazi brotherhood Wolfsschar. Until now, I only wore it outside the city, but recently I’ve been wearing it more and more in the city. Other trendy fashion brands like Yakuza and Amstaff have long since become mainstream. I don’t dare go out wearing an anti-fascist sweater anymore because I don’t want people to know where I live.
The right wing is increasingly comfortable in public.
Late in the evening, I was sitting at the bar with my friends, and we quickly started talking about our homework with the people at the next table. Topic: Culture of Memory and the Contemporary Treatment of Anne Frank’s Diary. After a while, a perspective on the Holocaust is presented. “Why do we still have to deal with it?” followed by a clear promise from the AfD. The party will still deal with the Holocaust realistically. We stop talking.
The bar is actually open to everyone, but it seems that more and more right-wingers are feeling comfortable in public. At one table, there was a discussion about whether the statement “I don’t like most foreigners. They are stabbers and rapists” was racist. Young women’s fears of racism are even greater.
I will say goodbye to the university tomorrow. I find it difficult to sleep. How do I deal with this? Where is the anti-racist and democratic “majority”? If there is so much anger in Germany over the right-wing extremist slogans against Sylt, why is there so little anger about my everyday life in my adopted East German university home? Brandenburg is not right-wing, but without intervention, this stigma will quickly become unmanageable.
Leandre Schaefer (24) grew up on the Dutch border, studied in Frankfurt (Oder) for four years, works in a bar and participates in cultural activities.
illustration: Malena Wesoleck (22) She studies visual communication in Berlin. When she says she grew up in Eberswalde, most people think of the University of Sustainable Development or the Eberswalde sausages. Or, less often, the trolleybuses.