Once upon a time, there was a country that, for four weeks, showed its very best side. A country that took the motto "A time to make friends" to heart and, in June and July of 2006, was cosmopolitan, friendly and fun, leading many foreign fans to ask themselves, "Are these still the same Germans?" For one month, the sun shined as if someone had flipped a switch, Germany nearly drowned in a sea of black, red and gold flags, and good spirits and euphoria were as infectious as they were unlimited.

That's more or less how the fairy tale — the summer fairy tale, or "Sommermärchen," of the 2006 Football World Cup went down in German history. Or really a slightly romanticized version that had been sold by the German Football Association, as it later turned out. Nevertheless, 18 years later, as Germany prepared to host the 2024 European football championships, the most popular question was: "Can this Euro be a second summer fairy tale?" 

Playwright and author Dagrun Hintze, who has written an essay collection about cultural and gender aspects of football, had the following to say:

"It's very German to always orient yourself on the past. Germans are also not particularly fond of change. Yet the last thing we would have needed now was to once again be ecstatically intoxicated and self-infatuated, things which were wonderful in 2006. But now we're simply in a different place, which is a good thing, and we have to look at things realistically. 2024 is more about how we bring people here back together again."

A ray of Euro sunshine in a polarized land

In 2006 there had not yet been a coronavirus pandemic or a refugee crisis; Russia had not launched a massive invasion of Ukraine and Germany had not experienced a lurch to the right with the populist  Alternative for Germany political party that became the strongest party in all eastern German states following the European Parliament elections.

The Euro 2024 has taken place in a country whose social cohesion is crumbling, whose inhabitants are increasingly polarized and where small sections of society see themselves irreconcilably divided from each other.

For these reasons, the championship took place at precisely the right time. Sports historian and professor at the German Sport University Cologne Jürgen Mittag, even described it as a "small summer fairy tale." 

"The mood in Germany is definitely more positive than it was before the European championship," he told DW. "For many Germans, but also for the many foreign guests, the Euro has been a big party where they've celebrated together. Fears, like those relating to security, didn't come to pass. It's possible that Germans also came together just a little bit."

Nagelsmann: A statesmanlike coach

Germany team's coach Julian Nagelsmann also wanted to do his part. The 36-year-old gave a passionate speech, sounding like a statesman more than a coach, calling for more social cohesion and saying the cooperation and camaraderie of the national team should be a model for society.

"Football has moved to the center of public discussion. This means that even a football coach can have an impact beyond the narrower confines of the sport and can intentionally use his role and position to promote certain societal issues," Mittag said.

Yet he also added, "Football, and sports in general, can effect change because of how they mobilize people. But football is fundamentally not the tool for repairing negative developments, saving political goals or nudging other countries in a different direction, at least not on a long-term basis."

The world sees Germany isn't so perfect after all

One positive takeaway from the Euro was that most Germans once again supported their national team — despite, or perhaps because of, its unlucky departure in the quarterfinal against Spain and the unity that came from chewing over the uncalled, late-in-the-match apparent handball in the penalty box that might have made all the difference for Germany.

Still, Dagrun Hintze believes that football isn't primarily about winning. "It's primarily the story: We lose together, we win together. And now we've lost together, and not only the team but also the fans. Maybe it's also good to learn that we can simply come together again in support of this team and start loving these players and coaches."

 If you set aside the embarrassing whistles that German fans aimed at Spanish defender Marc Cucurella in the semifinal against France, Germany made a good impression during the Euro 2024: stadiums filled to capacity, a fantastic atmosphere at public viewing events, the smooth daily operations during the largest deployment the national police have ever undertaken, with 22,000 officers on duty. Foreign fans saw a country that loved football with every fiber of its being — in contrast to the rather sterile World Cup in Qatar. If only it hadn't been for Deutsche Bahn delays, the signs written only in German and the mediocre state of digitalization.

"Now it's not only us, but all of Europe that knows where things stand with our infrastructure, from Deutsche Bahn to hotel capacity to organization. Fans here realized that, okay, Germany is apparently actually not the country where everything works. This just can't be denied anymore," Hintze concluded. "I think the Euro cup made us Germans a little more human in terms of how we are perceived by others. Along the lines of, 'They don't actually have it all together like we thought they did.' And maybe this makes us just a little more friendly."

This article has been translated from German.