Never again – but what exactly? The German memory culture and Russia’s war against Ukraine

A protest in Palo Alto, California against the policy of family separatio in 2019. Photo: Sundry Photography / Shutterstock

Historical analogies are quite popular these days. One of the most well known is “Never again”. However, these words are not always associated with the same worries, hopes and demands. On the contrary, they can even be voiced with the same conviction by opponents within a debate. This is because the main question is what exactly should not happen again? And what are the harbingers of the evil that may be emerging once again? Some relate the statement primarily to the Holocaust or Shoah and warn of the alarming rise in antisemitism. Others interpret the demand more broadly and emphasize that genocidal violence must never again occur. In Germany, many relate the statement to National Socialism in general and fear further electoral success for the AfD. Still, others think primarily of the Second World War as a whole and fear a third. 

This has become particularly noticeable in the last few days and weeks. Chancellor Olaf Scholz responded to the speech by the new American Vice President JD Vance at the Munich Security Conference by saying that a commitment to “Never again!” forbids any cooperation with the AfD. A few days earlier, during the parliament’s memorial service for the victims of National Socialism, such words of warning were repeated several times in the Bundestag. The Ukrainian Holocaust survivor Roman Schwarzman drew a parallel based on his own biography:

“Back then, Hitler wanted to kill me because I was Jewish. Now Putin is trying to kill me because I am Ukrainian. (…) Today we must once again do everything we can to put barbarism in its place. This is the only way to peace and mutual understanding. I implore you to arm us so that Putin ends this war of annihilation. Once I escaped annihilation. Now I am already old, but I have to live with the fear that my children and my children’s children will become victims of a war of annihilation.”

Just two weeks later, the “Never Again War” initiative published a statement praising the talks between Russia and the US as a possible end to the war – which were taking place in the style of imperial great power politics without Ukraine – and emphasized that the refusal of NATO membership for the invaded country “gives cause for hope”. The CDU, SPD and Greens were shocked by the US solo effort, while the leaders of the AfD and BSW took similar positions to the Trump administration. While many in the German media warned that the appeasement policy of 1938 should never be repeated, the US historian Timothy Snyder pointed to another looming parallel in the form of a new Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact.

White spot Eastern Europe?

Such quotes show how much a look into the past determines which lessons are drawn for the present, as well as which political demands are associated with the words “Never again”.

“The memory of the Nazi reign of terror is determined by the knowledge of the incomparability of the Holocaust: The systematic genocide of six million Jews, aimed at complete annihilation, as a crime against humanity on an unprecedented scale, is of singular importance in the German, European and worldwide culture of remembrance. The National Socialist crimes against Russians and Poles in the course of the war of extermination in Eastern Europe are as much a part of our collective memory as the disenfranchisement and extermination of the Sinti and Roma and other people persecuted as Gypsies.”

These words are part of the introduction of the German government’s memorial concept from 2008, which is still valid due to the failed attempt to update it in 2024. Perhaps the mistake is not even noticeable on first reading. The document uses the word “Russians” as a synonym for all the peoples of the multi-ethnic Soviet Union – and thus the subsumption of all Soviet republics under the name of a country whose brutal violence they also suffered. For the people in the successor states of the USSR, such imprecision prolongs the Soviet appropriation of their history in the present. In the occupied territories of Ukraine, we are currently seeing how purposefully and brutally Russia is trying not only to take away the country’s independence but also to erase its history and language. Yet in Germany, many have become accustomed to a narrative in which “the Soviet Union” is remembered as a homogeneous victim of National Socialism and “Russia” is considered an acceptable synonym. Why is it important to point this out right now? This supposedly small linguistic lapse has serious consequences. For example, this is clear when Ukraine is denied aid with the argument that Germany committed atrocities in Russia during the Second World War.

Still, in the chancellor’s famous “Zeitenwende” speech, this sentiment is evident:

“Because Putin, not the Russian people, has decided to start this war. And so it must be clearly stated that this war is Putin’s war! It is important to me to specify this. Because reconciliation between Germans and Russians after the Second World War is – and remains – an important chapter of our shared history.”

The far-reaching consequences of using “Soviet Union” and “Russia” as synonyms are also made clear by two studies that draw a mental map of the German memory landscape. The Bielefeld University Memory Monitor revealed considerable geographical confusion about the Second World War. When asked which countries they associate most with the war, 75 per cent of respondents named France, 60 per cent Poland, and 36 per cent Russia. Only one per cent named Ukraine and only 0.1 per cent Belarus. “This is all the more remarkable,” the study rightly emphasizes, “because both countries [unlike Russia] were completely occupied, genocidal crimes were committed against the civilian population as part of a colonization policy and millions of people from these two countries had to perform forced labour in Germany.”

A study commissioned by the Pilecki Institute to mark the 85th anniversary of the German invasion of Poland shows that almost two-thirds of people in Germany believe that German Jews were the largest group of victims of the Shoah. Around 28 per cent named Polish Jews and only nine per cent Soviet Jews. In fact, around 175,000 German Jews, almost three million Polish Jews and over one million Soviet Jews were killed under Nazi rule.

Despite these serious gaps in knowledge, according to the Bielefeld study, almost 60 per cent of Germans are convinced that they are “fairly well” to “very well” informed about the National Socialist era. Around 25 per cent think it is time to draw a line under this chapter of the past. However, even among those who acknowledge Germany’s historical responsibility, there is often no consensus on the lessons to be learned from the past.

Divided cultures of remembrance

It is particularly striking that support for Ukraine in its struggle for freedom and independence varies greatly between East and West Germany. One possible explanation is the diverging experiences and memory cultures.

In West Germany, there are two dominant interpretations. While some see a historically justified obligation to actively support Ukraine’s fight for freedom, others want to derive a pacifist imperative from the experience of the Second World War. Many people who identify strongly with the peace movement of the 1970s and 80s call for an end to military support for Ukraine and welcome the opening of talks with Russia. This view ignores the fact that peace in Europe was not achieved in 1945 through negotiations with the Nazi regime but through its capitulation. Germany was not liberated but defeated and occupied by the Allies. A culture of remembrance that ignores this aspect runs the risk of turning historical responsibility into moral non-commitment. Even now, only 23 per cent of Germans believe that there were perpetrators in their own family, while 36 per cent think that their ancestors were victims of the Nazis.

There has already been much discussion in the media as to why there is comparatively little solidarity with Ukraine in East Germany, which had been part of the Soviet sphere of influence for 45 years following the Second World War. After the uprising in 1953 and the Peaceful Revolution of 1989, is there no similarly positive narrative of freedom when people in former East Germany look to a country fighting for its survival and independence? There certainly is, but other voices are a lot louder, and opinion polls do not reflect majority support either. The historian Franziska Davies has noted that, unlike in Ukraine, the end of communism “is not remembered as a story of national self-liberation and a successful anti-colonial struggle, but as a take-over by the West”. The years of reunification may also be a reason why many East Germans react with greater apprehension to another Zeitenwende. Numerous attempts have been made to establish a positive narrative. Yet, many people do not seem to identify with it. Their memories are marked by economic hardship and biographical disruptions. For some time now, the memory of 1989 has also been appropriated by the AfD, which presents it as an unfinished revolution. At the same time, the phenomenon of German-Soviet friendship, which was always praised by the GDR regime, is experiencing a renaissance in the form of a worrying sympathy for Russia.

Even 35 years after the fall of the Berlin Wall and reunification, Germany is a fragmented landscape of memories. What unites opponents of further military aid in both the east and west is their shared criticism of the US, which, although it is based on different historical contexts, holds similar positions when it comes to rejecting NATO.

German reunification did not unite the different memory cultures but rather created new tensions. Even during the so-called “boom of remembrance” in the 1990s, memory remained patchy. It recalls the names of a few concentration and extermination camps but it can hardly locate them. Other brutal crimes that took place beyond the camps, the entire history of the German occupation, and the close links between the Shoah and the war of extermination in Eastern Europe, received little public attention until the Wehrmacht exhibition in 1995. Even this event still triggered a heated debate. Today, the Holocaust and the war are often seen as being unconnected, and not components of a colonial project.

Has memory work failed?

The aforementioned federal memorial concept states that its goal is “sensitizing the public to the causes and consequences of Nazi terror and the SED dictatorship, strengthening the anti-totalitarian consensus in society and raising awareness of the value of democracy and human rights”. Obviously, these goals have only been achieved to a limited extent. This is evidenced, among other things, by the latest election results. A recent survey also shows that 57 per cent of Germans between the ages of 18 and 29, but only 28 per cent of those over 70, are against further aid for Ukraine. These figures may be evidence of different conclusions drawn from different experiences and socializations, or of generational differences in expectations. Could we also be dealing here with the dramatic result of a failure at the level of historical-political education?

This is perhaps true. So, what could we do to tackle this problem? More memorials, more exhibitions, and more excursions do not automatically lead to more awareness. Historical education does not work like a vaccination. Unfortunately, a visit to a museum or a school project does not automatically immunize people against right-wing extremism and racism. Historical events only become a source of identity for a society if it regards them as essential to its self-image. Therefore, it is of central importance to always show the current relevance of historical knowledge. To have an impact, historical education must engage with the present, encouraging people to ask new questions and draw their own conclusions, showing them the historical developments that have led to today’s world and explaining how interpretations of history shape people’s perceptions and actions. This also means listening to others and making heard and seen the experiences and perspectives of those whose voices have been all too rarely heard thus far. Ultimately, the aim must be to turn remembrance from a ritual back into a dialogue, and from reflection into action in the form of civil society engagement. To ensure that “Never again” is more than just a phrase, these two words must be a guiding principle every day. This must be true in both the narrowest and broadest possible interpretation.

Conclusion

The principle of “Never again” has become a central part of German memory culture. However, the lessons it contains are by no means unambiguous. Different historical points of reference can lead to contradictory conclusions. Russia’s war against Ukraine has made diverging perspectives particularly obvious. While some in German society derive from the Nazi past a sense of responsibility to actively protect democracies and people affected by genocidal violence, others conclude, often with reference to German guilt, that the country should stay out of international conflicts.

Particularly problematic is the precarious role of Eastern Europe in German memory culture. Ukraine – like other successor states of the USSR, such as Belarus or the Baltic countries – is still not recognized by many people as a central site of the German war of extermination. This lack of knowledge often leads to a painful lack of empathy and solidarity.

In light of current geopolitical developments, it is becoming increasingly urgent to rethink the lessons of the past, to point out problematic narratives and their consequences, and to actively advocate for change. If the US and Russia now negotiate over the heads of the people of Ukraine, if the Ukrainian president is insulted and humiliated in front of live cameras in the White House, and if the US president may come to see NATO’s Article 5 as an option rather than an obligation, then the whole of Europe is in danger of becoming a playground for great power interests. This could lead to a new interpretation of “Never again”: not pacifism at any price, but the active defence of European sovereignty, freedom and democracy.

Stand with Ukraine.

A German version of this text was published on Zeitgeschichte Online on March 3rd 2025.

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German foreign policy, German-Ukrainian relations, Germany, memory politics, Russian invasion of Ukraine