Opinion / Christopher Cermak
Stone deaf
Standing on a hill above Rüdesheim on the Rhine is “Germania”, officially known as the Niederwald Monument. An imposing sight nearly 40 metres high, the monument commemorates Germany’s unification in 1871 as well as victory in the Franco-Prussian war. France wanted it torn down and the only reason it remained standing after the Second World War is that it was on the US-controlled side of the Rhine rather than the French side.
I remember the first time I was taken there by a friend nearly 10 years ago. We remarked with awe on the words engraved below it – a militaristic song about guarding the Rhine (“You, Rhine, will remain as German as my own beating chest”). As a pro-European, to me it felt personally offensive and overly nationalistic. And yet I’ve returned several times since with friends and family. It often provokes reflections about history, about German reunification, about the Prussians and the Second World War, and on Germany’s role in Europe today.
Let’s be clear: I’m not suggesting that all offensive historical statues should stand as they are; sometimes they can be amended. In the German town of Heidenheim, for example, a monument to Second World War general Erwin Rommel was recently augmented with a sculpture of a landmine victim that casts a shadow in front of the monument. At other times they simply must go: Nazi-era statues have all been taken down in Germany and rightly so, while many Confederate statues in the US were erected in opposition to the US civil rights movement and serve as shameful monuments to white supremacy.
But some statues offer an opportunity to reflect on a nation’s tortured history. Canada’s first prime minister, Sir John A Macdonald, was there for the birth of a nation but also spearheaded the killing of and discrimination against First Nations peoples. I suspect that the downing of his statue in Montréal this weekend means that fewer people will learn of that complicated history. Similarly, former US president Woodrow Wilson helped found the League of Nations but supported segregation. I fear that removing his name from Princeton’s School of Public and International Affairs might deprive young students of the chance to discuss those faults and accomplishments. And if Germania is ever taken down, I would miss having the opportunity to confront unwitting visitors with evidence of Germany’s complicated past.