For members


What you can learn about becoming German – from people who have done it

Applying to become a German citizen can seem like a daunting and long-winded task. We talked to a range of people who have gone through the process of applying to become a German citizen, to find out what it's really like.

What you can learn about becoming German - from people who have done it
Photo: DPA

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Martin Cairns tells The Local that getting German citizenship was a surprisingly straightforward process.

“I had to book an initial consultation at the Bürgeramt to get the ball rolling,” he says. “Then I booked the Einbürgerungstest (citizenship test) at the Abendakademie in Mannheim around September 2015, and a language test.”

The event manager, who is originally from England, moved to Germany in 1999 for work and decided to become a citizen in 2015 after losing his right to vote in UK elections.

At the initial consultation at the Bürgeramt, he had to fill out an official application form and was later sent a list of all the relevant documents he needed to provide.

It took Cairns a while to get all the documentation in order. He was required to provide an official translation of his UK birth certificate, various certifications from his work, pension and health insurance – and even information about the location and date of his parents’ marriage.

“Then once I collected it all, I had to make an official 'handover of documentation' at the Bürgeramt and pay the €255 fee,” he recalls.

Cairns found that waiting for his application to be processed actually took less time than he had expected.

“The first appointment I could get was in early February 2016 and I was told it could take around eight weeks. To my surprise, I received the official confirmation that my application had been accepted around the 20th of February.”

But the process still wasn't over.

“I had to make another appointment to receive the certificate, to make my pledge to Germany, and to register for the Personalausweis (German ID card) and passport,” he says.

After all that, he finally received his Ausweis in early March 2016.

READ MORE: How to get German citizenship (or just stay forever)

A citizenship test. Photo: DPA

'I waited two hours to make an appointment two months in the future'

Paul Duke (47), from Australia, found it relatively straightforward applying for citizenship but says the process was delayed simply due to a backlog of applicants.

He moved to Germany in 2001 after meeting his wife and, much like Martin Cairns, applied for German citizenship 16 years later so that he could vote.

“Getting an appointment for the citizenship test was painful,” Duke said, “I waited two hours to make an appointment which was two months in the future.”

While delays such as this seem unavoidable, it appears a proactive approach did save him a little time when proving his language level.

“Fortunately I had done a B2 test seven years ago just for fun,” Duke told The Local, meaning it was very easy to prove he spoke adequate German.

Key to getting citizenship is the ability to show that one can “cope in German with daily life in Germany, including dealing with the authorities, and being able to conduct conversations commensurate with one's age and education,” the Interior Ministry states.

'Instructions not always consistent'

Maribel Restrepo, from Colombia, came across complications regarding the required language test. The 33-year-old is married to a German and works for a trading company in Hamburg.

She says that the process took her around five months. But she felt that the instructions she was given at the start and midpoint of the process were not always consistent.

“At some point they called me and said that the German B1 exam, which is what they told me to do, will not be enough and that I had to do B2,” Restrepo told The Local. “I refused since I followed their instructions, the exam costs around €150, and I would have had to take more days off work for the registration and for the exam itself.”

Fortunately, after further discussion, a compromise was reached. In the end, Restrepo was not required to take a second language test, but instead had to provide extensive proof of language courses she had taken almost a decade ago.

“I had to ask for registration certificates of my previous German courses, from the time when I did my internship in 2008, as bills where not enough proof!”

A woman signing legal documents as part of the naturalization process. Photo: DPA

'The paperwork was out of this world'

Abdul Chehab (28), a communications and digital media specialist from Lebanon who has lived in Germany since 2014, is currently waiting to hear whether or not his application for German citizenship has been successful.

According to Chehab, “the paperwork was out of this world, but this is understandable as it’s an application for citizenship, not ordering a pizza.”

“I had to provide a lot of papers dating to the day I moved to Germany and had to bring papers from Lebanon and translate them,” he told The Local.

Getting documents officially translated into German is costly and Chehab feels that he received conflicting information about whether or not having his English work contract translated was actually necessary.

“I work for an international company so my work contract is in English,” he said. “I rang up to ask if this was okay and was advised to translate it. This cost me an extra €200, but then when handing in the paperwork I was told it wasn't necessary to have it translated after all.”

'Took close to a year'

Quite often applicants are required to provide evidence dating back a number of years – sourcing these documents was a very common cause of delays in the citizenship process among the people we spoke to.

Manda Dannemann, a 62-year-old actress born in Canada to German parents, didn’t apply for dual German and Canadian citizenship until her adult life.

Although she did not find the process difficult overall, one of the main delays she came across was in sourcing evidence relating to her German father.

“It took a while to get documents for my dad from his birthplace in northern Germany,” Dannemann said. “The citizenship process probably took close to a year since I had to wait for my dad’s birth certificate to arrive.”

Delays can also be caused when one has to revoke one's original citizenship. Paul Duke from Australia, was required to renounce his previous citizenship.

“Giving up my Aussie citizenship took about four months which put the German one on hold for a while,” he said.

English and German passports. Photo: DPA

Changes in the law

Getting a German passport is often very simple for people with one or more German parent, but things can be a little more complicated for the descendants of such individuals, as there have been a number of changes to citizenship laws throughout the years.

Barbara Simpson (72)  grew up in England but now lives in Marseille, France. She did not find out she had German nationality and citizenship until after all three of her children were born. This unfortunately complicated matters for her eldest son.

“I found out that I was a German citizen – born in Germany and two German parents – in 1984,” Simpson told The Local, “I got my German passport and the two for my younger sons – at the time I couldn’t even apply for one for my eldest son!”

This was due to restrictions which ended shortly after her eldest son Charles was born on April 12th 1974.

According to the Pappe Law Office and Notary, “until December 31, 1974, citizenship could be obtained only through the father,” or if their mother was the only one with German citizenship and “declared her desire to transfer her German citizenship to her descendants.” 

Unfortunately for Simpson she did not know she was German at the birth of her eldest son and therefore couldn't declare her desire to transfer her German citizenship.

Although he is not automatically eligible for German nationality like his younger brothers, in early 2016, Simpson’s eldest son applied for citizenship through the German consul in Marseille.

Unfortunately the processing of his application is taking quite some time and almost two years later he is still waiting to hear if he was successful.

Copies of the German Constitution ready to be given out at a citizenship ceremony. Photo: DPA

'I was invited to be welcomed by the Bürgermeister'

Once an application has been officially accepted, the person must make one final appointment to attend a citizenship ceremony where they say a pledge to Germany and recieve their citizenship certificate.

The scale of this ceremony is also dependent on location and number of local applicants.

For some, it is a very low-key affair, and they may even be the only person in attendance, save for the official who is presenting them with the certificate.

But others say that a large number of other successful applicants attended the same ceremony, which some people have described as creating a feeling of community and cammeraderie.

Martin Cairns, who is based in Mannheim, said he was even invited to attend a further celebratory event.

“I also was invited to be welcomed by the Bürgermeister at the Mannheimer Schloss in October,” Cairns says, “which I thought was a nice gesture.”

This kind of 'Einbürgerungsfest' is not a mandatory step in the process but simply a chance to celebrate with your family and other new citizens.

For members


Living in Germany: Battles over Bürgergeld, rolling the ‘die’ and carnival lingo

From the push to reform long-term unemployment benefits to the lingo you need to know as Carnival season kicks off, we look at the highlights of life in Germany.

Living in Germany: Battles over Bürgergeld, rolling the 'die' and carnival lingo

Deadlock looms as debates over Bürgergeld heat up 

Following a vote in the Bundestag on Thursday, the government’s planned reforms to long-term unemployment benefits are one step closer to becoming reality. Replacing the controversial Hartz IV system, Bürgergeld (or Citizens’ Allowance) is intended to be a fair bit easier on claimants.

Not only will the monthly payment be raised from €449 to €502, but jobseekers will also be given a grace period of two years before checks are carried out on the size of their apartment or savings of up to €60,000. The system will also move away from sanctions with a so-called “trust period” of six months, during which benefits won’t be docked at all – except in very extreme circumstances. 

Speaking in parliament, Labour Minister Hubertus Heil (SPD) said the spirit of the new system was “solidarity, trust and encouragement” and praised the fact that Bürgergeld would help people get back into the job market with funding for training and education. But not everyone is happy about the changes. In particular, politicians from the opposition CDU/CSU parties have responded with outrage at the move away from sanctions.

CDU leader Friedrich Merz has even branded the system a step towards “unconditional Basic Income” and argued that nobody will be incentivised to return to work. 

The CDU and CSU are now threatening to block the Bürgergeld legislation when it’s put to a vote in the Bundesrat on Monday. With the conservatives controlling most of the federal states – and thus most of the seats in the upper house – things could get interesting. Be sure to keep an eye out for our coverage in the coming weeks to see how the saga unfolds. 

Tweet of the week

When you first start learning German, picking the right article to use can truly be a roll of the “die” – so we’re entirely on board with this slightly unconventional way to decide whether you’re in a “der”, “die”, or “das” situation. (Warning: this may not improve your German.) 

Where is this?

Photo: picture alliance/dpa | Boris Roessler

Residents of Frankfurt am Main and the surrounding area will no doubt recognise this as the charming town of Kronberg, which is nestled at the foot of the Taunus mountains.

This atmospheric scene was snapped on Friday morning, when a drop in temperatures saw Kronberg and surrounding forests shrouded in autumnal fog.

After a decidedly warm start to November, the mercury is expected to drop into single digits over the weekend. 

Did you know?

November 11th marked the start of carnival season in Germany. But did you know that there’s a whole set of lingo to go along with the tradition? And it all depends on where you are. First of all, the celebration isn’t called the same thing everywhere. In the Rhineland, it’s usually called Karneval, while people in Bavaria or Saxony tend to call it Fasching. Those in Hesse and Saarland usually call it Fastnacht. 

And depending on where you are, there are different things to shout. The ‘fools call’ you’ll hear in Cologne is “Alaaf!” If you move away from Cologne, you’ll hear “Helau!” This is the traditional cry in the carnival strongholds of Düsseldorf and Mainz, as well as in some other German cities.

In the Swabian-Alemannic language region in the southwest of the country, people yell “Narri-Narro”, which means “I’m a fool, you’re a fool”. In Saarland at the French border, they shout “Alleh hopp!”, which is said to originate from the French language. 

Lastly, if someone offers you a Fastnachtskrapfe, say yes because it’s a jelly-filled carnival donut. And if you’re offered a Bützchen? It’s your call, but know that it’s a little kiss given to strangers!