Hitler’s Germania: A capital fit for a megalomaniac

Only steps away from Berlin’s Holocaust memorial and the site of Hitler’s bunker, a new exhibition explores the Nazi leader’s plans to turn the city into Germania – a capital full of architecture fit for a megalomaniac.

Hitler's Germania: A capital fit for a megalomaniac
A model of the Volkshalle. Photo: dpa

Berlin, with its huge new glass and steel train station, the nearby imposing Chancellery building, and the rebuilt and reborn Potsdamer Platz, has become synonymous for bold modern architecture in recent years.

But what’s considered “bold” these days is put into a whole new perspective when compared to what Albert Speer – Adolf Hitler’s favourite architect – had planned for the city. A new exhibition titled “Myth Germania: Shadows and Traces of the Imperial Capital” explores what could be best described as megalomaniac urban planning.

Organized by the non-profit group Berliner Unterwelten – known for its expeditions into the extensive subterranean tunnels underneath the German capital – is billing the show as the largest and most comprehensive look at Hitler’s audacious plans for a creating a monumental Berlin ever.

“At first (Hitler) had conceived that Berlin needed to be bigger and better than London and Paris,” Dietmar Arnold, president of the Berliner Unterwelten Association, told The Local at the exhibition opening. “Later, even after the war seemed lost, he was convinced it should be bigger than Babylon and Rome. To say the plan was painted with the brush of megalomania would be a bit of an understatement.”

Officially unveiled by German Finance Minister Peer Steinbrück last week, the exhibition – located in a pavilion in the heart of Berlin – opened to the public on Saturday. Steinbrück’s ministry – once home the Reich’s Air Ministry – is one of the few structures remaining in Berlin intended to be part of Hitler’s Germania. He welcomed the exhibition’s proximity to the sprawling Holocaust memorial near the Brandenburg Gate, saying it puts the Nazi architectural “vision in perspective and reminds us of Hitler’s intentions to exterminate the Jews.”

Much as Hitler wished to dominate Europe, Germania’s skyline would have been ruled by the colossal Volkshalle. The huge dome, modelled on the Pantheon in Rome and large enough to hold a crowd of 150,000 for Nazi rallies, would have been almost 300 metres high – as tall as fifteen Brandenburg Gates stacked on top of each other.

The centrepiece of the new exhibition is a huge scale model of Speer’s plans for Germania on loan from Constantin Film, which was originally used in the 2004 movie “The Downfall” about Hitler’s last days in Berlin.

Initially intended for completion by 1950, the Germania project was sidelined as the Second World War raged on and Nazi Germany’s defeat edged closer. Most of the material Speer had acquired ended up being used to build air raid shelters once the Allied bombardment of Berlin began in 1940.

But evidence of the project’s infancy still dot the German capital today; for example the relocated Siegessäule, or Victory Column, was moved from in front of the Reichstag to Germania’s planned massive north-south axis cutting through the Tiergarten park. Visitors in Berlin can also see the huge concrete foundations near Templehof airport designed to test the soil for the huge triumphal arch, upon which Hitler planned to have the names of Germany’s fallen soldiers emblazoned.

Hitler had in his youth dreamt of becoming a famous painter, but after he was refused from the prestigious Academy of Fine Arts in Vienna in 1907 the future dictator developed an affinity for architecture. He first conceived the idea of the Welthauptstadt – or World Capital – while imprisoned at Landsberg Prison in 1924 following the failed Nazi Beer Hall Putsch in Munich a year earlier.

The concept was later developed by Hitler’s favourite architect Speer, but the name Germania was actually never used by either of them. Ironically, it was only added later when the publisher of the Speer’s memoirs needed a catchy name for the project.

The exhibition Myth Germania is presented in both German and English and will run the rest of the year. Entrance costs €6 (€4 reduced price), with children under 12 free.


How a new Berlin museum is carefully exploring Germany’s wartime suffering

A new museum dedicated to the long-silenced trauma of German civilians forced to flee eastern Europe at the end of World War II opens next week after decades of wrenching debate.

How a new Berlin museum is carefully exploring Germany's wartime suffering
An exhibit at the Documentation Centre for Displacement, Expulsion and Reconciliation. Photo: dpa | Bernd von Jutrczenka

Perhaps reflecting what its founders call their delicate “balancing act”, the new institution in Berlin carries the unwieldy name of Documentation Centre for Displacement, Expulsion and Reconciliation.

Some 14 million Germans fled or were ejected from what is today’s Poland, Russia, the Czech Republic, Hungary, the Baltic states, Romania, Slovakia and the former Yugoslavia between 1944 and 1950.

Escaping the Russian army and later forced out by occupying powers and local authorities, an estimated 600,000 Germans lost their lives on the trek.

Those who fled included people who had settled in Nazi-occupied territories as well as ethnic Germans who had lived for centuries as minorities.

Seventy-six years after the conflict’s end, director Gundula Bavendamm said Germany was finally ready to talk about their suffering, while still acknowledging the unparalleled guilt of the Nazis.

“We are not the only country that needed quite some time to face up to painful and difficult chapters of its own history,” she told reporters at a preview of the museum before it opens to the public on Wednesday.

“Sometimes it takes several generations, and the right political constellations.”

‘Universal’ experience

The 65-million-euro museum takes pains to place the Germans’ plight firmly in the context of Hitler’s expansionist, genocidal policies.

It is located between the museum at the former Gestapo headquarters and the ruins of Anhalter railway station from which Jews were sent to the Theresienstadt concentration camp.

Just opposite is a planned Exile Museum devoted to those who fled Nazi Germany.

Access to the second-floor space spotlighting the Germans’ exodus can only be gained through a darkened room covering the Holocaust.

The first-floor exhibition looks at the “universal” refugee experience, covering mass displacements in countries such as Vietnam, Myanmar, Lebanon and India after the 1947 partition.

“Hyper-nationalism is one of the prime causes of war and forced migration – they almost always go together,” curator Jochen Krueger said.

A folding bicycle used by a Syrian asylum seeker crossing from Russia into Norway in the spring of 2016 resonates particularly in Germany, where more than 1.2 million people arrived at the height of that refugee influx.

Dropped stitch

An estimated one-third of Germans have family ties to the mass exodus at the war’s end and the museum presents their often poignant heirlooms.

A haunting cross stitch with a rhyme about kitchen tidiness hangs unfinished, a dark thread still dangling from the cloth because the woman working on it suddenly had to run from advancing Soviet troops.

A girl’s leather pouch is marked with her address in Fraustadt, now the Polish town of Wschowa: Adolf Hitler Strasse 36, displayed in a case near a well-thumbed Hebrew dictionary.


Keys from a villa in Koenigsberg — today’s Kaliningrad — that was fled in 1945 and from a house in Aleppo, Syria abandoned in 2015 symbolise the enduring hope of returning home one day.

“Everything you see displayed here is a miracle because it survived the journey,” Bavendamm said.

The around 12.5 million people who made it to what would become East and West Germany as well as Austria often faced discrimination and hostility.

Now decades on, the museum’s library offers assistance to families hoping to retrace their ancestors’ odyssey.

An audio guide provides context in English, Polish, Czech, Russian and Arabic in addition to German.

And a “Room of Stillness” allows people to sit and reflect on difficult memories.

‘Last remaining gap’

A shroud of silence and shame long covered the suffering experienced by German civilians during and after the war.

Groups representing the expelled in the post-war period sometimes had links to the far right, and occasionally agitated against government efforts to atone for Nazi aggression.

Only after the Cold War and a long process of international reconciliation did incidents such as the devastating Allied firebombing of Dresden or the 1945 sinking of the Wilhelm Gustloff ship carrying German refugees gain an airing.

The far right’s claiming of such events to underline German victimhood also complicates efforts to find the right tone to broach the subject.

News magazine Der Spiegel called the museum “a statement to the left and the right wing, to Germany and abroad. It is meant to close a last remaining gap in German remembrance”.

The seed for the project was planted in 1999 by Erika Steinbach, an archconservative lawmaker who had voted against the recognition of Germany’s postwar border with Poland after the fall of the Iron Curtain.

An infamous Polish magazine cover depicted Steinbach as a Nazi dominatrix forcing Germany’s chancellor at the time, Gerhard Schroeder, to do her bidding.

However Schroeder’s successor Angela Merkel recognised the necessity of the museum and in 2008 agreed with broad mainstream support to establish a centre dedicated to a spirit of international reconciliation.

Historians from across Europe and Jewish community representatives were enlisted as advisors.

“Understanding loss is at the heart of the project – loss of property and ownership in general but also loss of social status, of community, of loved ones,” Bavendamm said.

“But it’s also about how people manage to process loss and perhaps, after a time, begin to look toward a better future.”

SEE ALSO: ‘We just didn’t realise’ – What it was like growing up in post-Nazi Dachau