Russian writer Viktor Yerofeyev describes the significance of the anniversary of Nazi Germany's invasion of the Soviet Union - and why June 22, 1941, is so perilously close to us today.
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A large-scale war is a large-scale act of idiocy. But a small-scale war is no less stupid.
One could answer the eternal question of who was worse, Hitler or Stalin, like this: They were two flints that rubbed against one another setting off the sparks that ignited the Second World War. The one without the other would not have ignited anything. But Stalin was the first to transform himself into a flint, and he did everything possible to help Hitler to power, and subsequently lead him to war.
I don't believe in the fairytale that Stalin intended to attack Hitler first. I believe that Stalin was certain he had finally found someone that would provide him with the moral justification he needed for everything he was about to do: for collectivization, for terror and the death of millions. Hitler was the only person in world history that could compare to Stalin's own measure of evil. Stalin saw Hitler as a welcome respite; however, he was foolishly mistaken about the length of that respite.
The Soviet Union could have been easy prey
I think Hitler could have been victorious in 1941 had he not been an ideological psychopath. The Soviet Union was wavering under Stalin's atrocities. The fact that Stalin called Russian soldiers in German captivity traitors, and simply abandoned them, was evidence of the inner weakness of his power. (Incidentally, this attitude still exists today, albeit on a smaller scale). The Soviet Union could have been easy prey for the Germans. It would have been enough for them to, say, install a tolerable government with Russian national elements. But Hitler applied racist standards to the Slavs, and he perished because of his racist madness. Stalin's path throughout the entire war was awash in the blood of Slavs, and it was this blood that would become the true banner of victory - something akin to a miracle.
During the course of the war, the Nazis had nothing to offer Russia, nothing but disaster. And Stalin's henchmen brought little good to the conquered lands of postwar Europe, only the Soviet system: collective farms in Poland and the GDR, terror and torture, the execution of the undesirables.
The delusional utopias of Hitler and Stalin
Everyone is free to look at June 22, 1941 - the day that Nazi Germany invaded the Soviet Union - as they see fit. I see this day as one of history's most blatant examples of human stupidity.
Hitler and Stalin were competing against one another in an attempt to create truly delusional utopias. Their personal confrontation was programed. But the utopias themselves reveal the delusional components of human nature.
Germany (for a long time West Germany, now all of Germany) did penance for its devious breach of contract and the horror that followed. And for years, I watched as Russia practiced forgiveness, eventually pardoning Germany. When I was a boy we used to play war, and Germany was the analogy for hell. Later, West Germans were analogous for economic success, and my fellow adolescents hung out in front of international hotels begging them for cigarettes and chewing gum.
Moscow using the past war for political ends
Germans and Russians have a better relationship now than many expected. For Germans, Russia, regardless of Ukraine, is the rather weak, but natural counterbalance to the world's sole superpower - America. For Russians, Germany is the most comprehensible model for a humane and social society in Europe (and in general) - one that represents an unachievable ideal for Russia.
So, what does the war that began on June 22 mean today? From a human standpoint it is a massive, but nonetheless, healed wound, and the source of many tears on both sides.
Now, however, a new historical crisis has arisen. The reciprocal recriminations between Russia and the West in the wake of events at Maidan square in Kyiv, in Crimea and in Eastern Ukraine have all brought June 22 into a precarious proximity with the present.
Today, Russia is using the old war for political ends, and by doing so is reopening up the old, healed wound, declaring it a sore that has begun festering again. The goal is to mobilize the country's citizenry in order to cement Russia's current power structure for a lifetime - with the messianic utopia of a "Russian world" and slogans like "1945: We can bring it back to you!" That is, to say the least, not the best way to maintain Russian-German trust, not to mention genuine sympathy.
Victor Yerofeyev is a Russian author, literary scholar and television presenter. Among his most well-known works are the novels "Russian Beauty," "Good Stalin" and "The Last Judgement," which have all been translated into many languages. He is a Chevalier of the French Legion of Honor.
German ruins of World War II
They are spread out throughout Germany. Mindful restorations of the remaining ruins of the Second World War have turned the rubble into memorials calling to peace.
Image: Hulton Archive/AFP/Getty Images
Like a hollow tooth
It's hard to imagine that in 1945 many German cities were completely destroyed by bombs, as is the case in Iraq or Syria nowadays. Though practically everything has been rebuilt since, the remaining ruins in Germany now serve as reminders of the horrors of war. Many of them are religious buildings: Berlin's Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church is one of these stone witnesses.
Image: picture-alliance/dpa/M. Hiekel
Beauty with five towers
Designed in Neo-Romanesque style and consecrated in 1895, Berlin's Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church burned down following an air raid by the Allies on November 23, 1943. Only the 71-meter high main tower could be preserved. The four-part ensemble of buildings surrounding it with the new Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church was inaugurated in late 1961. Both old and new parts are protected monuments.
Image: picture alliance/akg-images
Making use of a ruin
The history of the Franciscan monastery church in Berlin's district of Mitte goes back to 1250. The monastery was dissolved during the Reformation in 1539. It was bombed on April 3, 1945. The ruined church needed to stabilized and it became the only building to survive the era. After its restoration, the ruin has been used for exhibitions, theater performances and concerts since 2004.
Image: gemeinfrei/imago/F. Berger
Memorial without a roof
The church of St. Alban in the heart of Cologne was heavily destroyed, never to be rebuilt. Here is a view of the remains of the choir. The open former church serves as a memorial to the dead of the war. Inside, "The Mourning Parents," a sculpture by Ernst Barlach based on a drawing by Käthe Kollwitz, call to peace.
Image: CC BY-SA 3.0/Raimond Spekking
Valuable remains
Not far from St. Alban was the Church of St. Kolumba, one of the oldest parish churches of Cologne. The foundation stone was laid in 980. After the almost total destruction of the church in 1943, only a few parts of the late medieval outer wall and statue of Mary were left in the rubble.
Image: picture-alliance/dpa/F. Gambarini
Integrated into a new museum
For this statue of the Virgin Mary, the octagonal chapel of St. Mary was built from 1947 to 1950 on the location of the ruins. The Cologners therefore refer to it as the "Madonna in the Ruins". In 1956-57, an additional square chapel was built as an extension to the first one. St. Kolumba was fully integrated into the newly created archiepiscopal museum of Cologne in 2007.
Image: CC BY-SA 3.0/Elke Wetzig
Ancient baroque glory
The Zerbst Castle in Saxony-Anhalt once was the residence of the princes of Anhalt-Zerbst. In the 17th century, a new building was planned as a three-winged facility. It was one of the most important baroque buildings in central Germany. The future Russian Empress Catherine II, born Princess Sophie Friederike Auguste von Anhalt-Zerbst, visited her relatives there quite often as a child.
Image: picture-alliance/AKG
Still a ray of hope
In April 1945, the Zerbst Castle was hit by bombs and burned out completely. The sumptuous interior was lost. It would have been possible to reconstruct it, but the proposal was turned down for political reasons. Only the ruins of the east wing escaped demolition. It remains a goal to reconstruct their outer part in their original form.
Image: picture-alliance/dpa/J. Wolf
A church for eternity
It's not a ruin, but nevertheless a memorial: In Düsseldorf, a huge bunker was designed as a church for reasons of camouflage in the early 1940s. It finally became a church in 1949. The unique building is a protected monument, and is said to be the world's most stable place of worship. Today, the bunker is not only a church, but also a memorial and an art center.
Image: CC BY-SA 3.0/Ilion
Energetic memorial
Also unique in the world is this huge bunker in Hamburg-Wilhelmsburg. After the war, many of these constructions fell into decline. This former bunker was renovated a few years ago to be transformed into an "energy bunker." Equipped with a solar envelope and a regenerative power plant with large heat storage, the huge building now supplies the population with heat and electricity.
Image: picture-alliance/dpa/B. Marks
The obvious target
The origins of the St. Nicholas Church in Hamburg reach back to the year 1195. Following a fire in 1842, a completely new church in neo-Gothic style was built and completed in 1874. The 147-meter (482 ft) high tower was temporarily the tallest architectural structure in the world. Then came July 28, 1943: The spire served as a target marker during Allied air raids. St. Nikolai burned down.
Image: gemeinfrei
Hamburg and Gomorrha
Only the tower and the vault survived, remaining open wounds to this day. After the war, the Hamburg Senate decided not to rebuild the church. The ruins of St. Nicholas were dedicated to "the victims of war and tyranny between 1933 and 1945." In the basement, a documentation center was created with a permanent exhibition showing "Gomorrha1943 - The destruction of Hamburg in aerial warfare."
Image: picture-alliance/dpa
Some ends are a beginning
The Frauenkirche, the pearl of the Baroque city of Dresden and a splendid example of Protestant religious architecture, was left in ruins in 1945. It had been spared during the devastating bombing in February 1945. But the stone dome collapsed the next day. The rubble long served as a memorial of war and destruction. The East German government could not afford to reconstruct the majestic church.
Image: Hulton Archive/AFP/Getty Images
Symbol of hope
After German reunification, reconstruction of the Frauenkirche began in 1996. It took nine years to be completed. Stones of the original building were incorporated into the new masonry. Involved in the financing of the 180-million-euro mammoth project were 16 German and foreign support associations, as well as donors from around the world - a strong symbol of hope and international understanding.
Image: DW/Holm Weber
Rubble for a new beginning
The restoration of the Auferstehungskirche, or Church of Resurrection, in Pforzheim, was completed in 1947. It was the first church rebuilt in Germany after the war, using the ruins of surrounding houses: 30,000 bricks were laboriously unearthed and cleaned. The church became a symbol of a new beginning and served as a model for 46 of the temporary churches set up in war-ravaged German cities.