A City Still Separated: The Berlin Derby
As a kind of throat clearing, I wish to begin with a joke that was pervasively told in West Berlin. It begins with an East German worker who is seduced by a job offer which would take him to Siberia. With the understanding that any mail he sent home would be subjected to the requisite censorship, he devised a system to bypass censors. He told his friends that any letters he composed in blue ink were the truth and anything written in red ink was a lie. After a month, his friends received the first letter, written in blue ink: “Everything is wonderful here: stores are full, food is abundant, apartments are large and properly heated, and movie theaters show films from the West. The only thing unavailable is red ink.” The despotism of the authoritarian DDR necessitated a level of censorship that engendered a commensurate repression of cathartic energy. Citizens were deprived of cathartic outlets that were common in the West. In the West, people could express their frustrations and dissent through various channels: street protests, political satire, and even stand-up comedy. However, in East Berlin, any form of dissent was quickly suppressed by the Stasi, the notorious secret police. Personal freedoms were severely constrained, and citizens were constantly monitored, with any perceived dissident behavior leading to imprisonment or worse. Even seemingly innocuous activities, such as writing letters in a different color ink, were seen as subversive and could result in punishment.
In the 1960s the Stasi began to recognize the importance of catharsis as a means to divert attention from the political and economic strife that beset East Germany. Like many authoritarian regimes the Stasi turned to football as a mechanism to quell social unrest. Goldblatt references Marxist intellectuals that saw football’s crux “as an opiate, pure and simple—a diversion from the more pressing tasks of industrial organization and revolutionary politics.” A strategic subversion of class consciousness that would ultimately lead to the creation of the first of our two protagonists: 1. FC Union Berlin. Yet despite the Stasi’s efforts to popularize football in the East, the football scene in contemporary Berlin is meager and condemned to mediocrity. To highlight this, consider that no club from Berlin has ever won the Bundesliga. Germany’s capital city, Germany's most populous city, and arguably Germany’s most historically significant city, does not have a single domestic title. Comparatively, nearly each European capital city boasts a club that has, at times, maintained a near hegemonic grip over their respective domestic league. Berlin’s peer set in the top 5 leagues paints an even starker picture; Paris St. Germain, Real Madrid, Roma, Chelsea (and more) have all enjoyed periods of continental and domestic success. A number of compelling explanations have cropped up to square Berlin’s comparatively underwhelming footballing pedigree. Perhaps the simplest explanation cites the city’s financial shortcomings. The specter of the DDR still looms over Berlin’s lackluster economy. Former Mayor Klaus Wowereit describes Berlin as “arm aber sexy” (“poor but sexy”). The second order implications of Berlin’s financial constraints are a tangible fetter to any budding sporting success. Poor infrastructure highlighted by crumbling Soviet brutalism and until recently the lack of an international airport. In a similar vein, many consider Berlin’s isolation during the cold war to have hampered the development of a successful club. “Mauer fußball” (“wall football”) is a modern pejorative, synonymous with “anti-football", that referenced the rigid and uninspiring football characteristic of East Germany. In the DDR football functioned as an extension of the state and tactically reflected the authoritarian militarism of the SED (Social Unit Party). The West’s permeable borders and neoliberal trade agreements allowed talent, managers and tactical principles to transform into traveling commodities. While East Germany only qualified for one major tournament, West Germany won the World Cup twice and consistently developed notable players like Franz Beckenbaurer. We are left then with a capital city that for periods has been devoid of top flight football.
Yet perhaps the most troubling disparity in between Berlin and its continental counterparts is the noticeable void of a major derby. Rome’s Derby della Capitale, Madrid’s El Derbi Madrileño, and the North London Derby are each compelling affairs that reflect each city’s divisive idiosyncrasies. Berlin had not hosted a major derby until the 2010/2011 season; and even then, the derby took place in the Zweite Bundesliga (the second division). Although 1. FC Union Berlin and Hertha share only a handful of fixtures to-date the derby has a rich history; defined by stark political and historical differences.
In December 1965 and January 1966, East German football underwent a reorganization, leading to the creation of ten dedicated football clubs. The football department of TSC Berlin was not initially considered in this reorganization, and only two clubs were planned for East Berlin, contrary to the original plan of one club per district. This was until Herbert Warnke, the chairman of the state-controlled national trade union FDGB and a member of the SED Politburo, intervened. Warnke argued for the creation of a third "civilian club" for the working people in East Berlin, 1. FC Union Berlin. He became a passionate fan and sponsoring member of the club, which was established in the clubhouse of VEB Transformatorenwerk Oberschöneheide "Karl Liebknecht" (TRO) on 20 January 1966. The club was organized by Hans Modrow, then-SED First Secretary in Köpenick, who also became a sponsoring member. The FDGB supported the club, likely as an attempt by the SED to win the support of workers in East Germany. It might seem incredibly difficult to commensurate Union Berlin’s modern ethos with the Stasi’s involvement in the club’s creation. In recent decades Union has positioned itself as a working-class club that serves a sanctuary for political dissidents and more broadly a platform for counterculture movements. A fact perhaps best reflected in the club’s ground: “Die Alte Fosterei” which translates to “The Old Forest Ranger’s house.” A fitting name for a that stadium is nestled deep in Köpenick’s forest; supporters walk through a winding forest path to find their beloved ground at the base of a tall evergreen canopy. After promotion to the third division, the club was required to redevelop the stadium to comply with the regulations of a more competitive competition. Hampered by financial constraints, the club could not afford the expensive renovations. Incredibly, Union supporters organized themselves to buttress their club; through 140,000 hours of unpaid labor Union fans built the terraces they would ultimately occupy. The terraces themselves are a blatant reflection of the laborers that poured their foundation; 18 of the stadium’s 22 thousand births are standing room only. The outcome is a notoriously hostile environment defined by thunderous stomping, extravagant tifos and stringently choreographed pyrotechnics. Bayern’s Thomas Müller described the Alte Fosterei as the Budesliga’s most difficult away fixture following a draw in 2021. The intimacy of Union’s fan involvement would persist as a thematic throughline that knew no boundaries. In 2004 the club was confronted by the jarring threat of insolvency. Once again Union fans organized to keep their club afloat; “Bluten für Union” (Bleed for Union) was a fan organized campaign that directly contributed to the club’s survival. German blood donation banks pay forty euros in exchange for a pint of blood. Union fans flocked to hospitals and donation centers to garner cash flow for their depleted team. Yet Bluten für Union would also serve to highlight the idiosyncratic origins of Berlin’s derby. As Hertha and Union found themselves separated by two tiers on the competitive pyramid a rivalry had not yet had the chance to take hold. As a consequence, Hertha fans saw fit to set up a blood donation bank outside their ground before a home fixture against Hoffenheim to lend a hand to their eastern foil.
Yet as Union climbed Germany’s competitive pyramid the establishment of a rivalry seemed increasingly inevitable. Hertha itself could very easily be described as the anti-Union. In 1892, a group of four young men established a club and named it BFC Hertha 92. The name was inspired by a steamship that had a blue and white smokestack. One of the founders had gone on a day trip with his father on this ship and was impressed by its appearance. Hertha has earned the moniker "Die Alte Dame" (The Old Lady") because the name "Hertha" is considered to be a very traditional German name. Unlike Union, Hertha has positioned itself as a club that represents the entire city. The team holds training sessions in each of Berlin’s 12 districts and despite Union’s passionate support, Hertha remains the most well supported club in the city. Just as the Alte Fosterei reflects Union’s unique identity, Hertha’s ground: the “Olympia Stadion” lays bare the dichotomy that would act as the undergirding for Berlin’s derby. An intersection of opulence and brutalism the ground has played host to some of sports most historically significant moments: Jesse Owen’s winning Gold and Zidane’s headbutt. The ground’s more sinister origins as a Nazi monument designed to exhibit “German supremacy” plays less of a role in Hertha’s ethos yet still serves as ominous backdrop to the derby’s fervor. More recently Hertha’s fans have called for a change of scenery. Hertha is rarely able to fill the Olympia Stadion’s 80 thousand seats which lends itself poorly to a passionate atmosphere. The track that felt Jesse Owen’s balletic strides serves as a moat to separate Hertha fans from their club. Standing in stark contrast to Union, Hertha’s lackluster atmosphere has become a focal point of the derby’s ethos; contributing to a concerted effort to improve fan culture with greater organization and choreography.
Olympiastadion 1936 Olympics
As aforementioned there has been a long history of friendship between Hertha and Union. During the days of the DDR the clubs considered themselves “Freunde hinter stacheldrad” (friends behind barbed wire). 10 months after the wall fell, the Olympia Stadion played host to a commemorative friendly, in front of a rare -- 80 thousand spectators. Yet the friendly’s friendly subtext rested on the belief that the two clubs would never meet in a competitive derby; a belief that the 2010/11 season would subvert. The Alte Fosterei played host to the first competitive meeting between the two clubs. Union would go on to win the fixture in the dying minutes with a 25-yard freekick. This dramatic first encounter would prove to be the spark that would divide a city already accustomed to division. For journalists, it was irresistible to frame the derby as an echo of the wall that formerly separated the clubs. Tellingly, this frame was not without merit. The derby seemed a textbook example of “Die Mauer im Kopf” (the wall in your head). Following a Hertha victory in the 2012/13 season, Union’s captain Christopher Quiring lamented: “it makes me want to vomit seeing these Wesi’s celebrating in our stadium.” “Wesi” and “Osi’ (Western and Easterner) are pejorative terms to describe those on the other side of the wall. Yet perhaps the most interesting element of this quote, is that Quiring was born in a unified Germany; a true manifestation of “Die Mauer im Kopf”.
Following their promotion in 2013, Hertha established itself as a midtable club in Germany’s first division. With Hertha’s newfound consistency, the possibility of another derby lay with Union’s promotion campaign. In the 2018/19 season Union found themselves in line for promotion, needing a victory against 14th placed Bochum on the final matchday. Yet Union managed to lose and was forced to fall back on a two-legged playoff against Stuttgart. After a 0-0 draw at home Union was headed to the first division and the ensuing celebrations could very easily be characterized as a release of East Berlin’s pent up cathartic energy. Yet as the excitement of promotion faded the focus shifted to the two upcoming derbies in the first division. A fact illustrated by Union’s kit reveal at the beginning of the season; which featured an Union fan walking through the Olympia Stadion and its surrounding area. Ending with red text reading “Berlin ist Union.” In the lead up to the first of the two fixtures, Hertha’s newly established fan organizations chanted “Scheiß Union” (Shit Union) during their DFB Pokal clash with Dynamo Dresden. As derby-day approached Berlin was beset by an uncomfortable tension that would crescendo in dramatic fashion; perhaps best characterized by the halftime pyro shows that forced officials to temporarily abandon the fixture. Since 2019 both clubs have managed to stay in the 1. Bundesliga and their consistent meetings have developed an anxious and earnest tone. In the current season Union and Hertha find themselves at opposite sides of the table. Surprisingly, Union has embroiled itself in a tense title race as Hertha battles for survival at the bottom of the table. Yet despite the threat of relegation the derby’s zeal will surely endure another ceasefire. The trajectory of the Berlin derby reveals profound evidence in favor of Goldblatt’s response to the Marxist intellectuals cited in the introduction. Although initially Union was a mechanism for distraction and political repression, the club emerged as a beacon for liberalism and free thought. And despite Hertha’s early connections to ethno-fascism the club has come to represent all of Berlin, including the diversity of its ethnic diasporas. This is a trajectory that Goldblatt concedes. Goldblatt cites the military juntas of Latin America as an early perversion of football’s power that would dissipate with democratization. The Berlin derby is still haunted by the divisions of the wall yet as new generations take hold of the derby this will surely vanish.
