My jubilation at Germany’s fourth
World Cup title is tempered by the fact that I was born and raised in America.
Of course, I also rooted for Team USA but secretly prayed that the two teams
would avoid a head-to-head confrontation in the Final – the consequential
strain on my loyalties would have been too much to bear. (It was a very remote
possibility had USA survived the knockout stage.)
I prepared for the Final by
donning my Deutscher Fußball-Bund t-shirt and fan scarf and painting my toenails
in the tricolors of the German flag. Ecstasy erupted for a few seconds from the
Argentine fans when their team scored an “almost-goal.” (The ball hit the back
of the German net but was quickly erased by an offside call.) I now feared that
I might be the only Germany fan in the New York City sports bar where I was watching the
match. (My companion was more interested in beer than football.) But when
Germany scored the decisive goal in the last minutes of overtime, joy erupted
again. Aha…I wasn’t the only spectator in the bar cheering the Schwarz, Rot und
Gold.
By now you are rightly wondering
what any of this has to do with “World War II…with a German accent.” I assure
you there is a connection. Had World War II never happened, Germany would not
be what it is today. Guilt over their role in arguably the most horrific
atrocities of the twentieth century still lingers in the German psyche.
Germany, despite its prosperity and
world influence, has become a nation of handwringers and pacifists. Their
participation in the current Afghan war as a member of ISAF (NATO’s security force,
which includes troops from the US, Italy, the UK and many other nations) has
been controversial at home. Memories of the devastation inflicted by Germany on
the rest of the world have made most Germans loath to sending their soldiers to
kill other combatants. Hence, German politicians have tried to limit their ISAF
role to humanitarian missions.
How does this relate to German
football? Even the word “Weltmeister” stirs painful memories. Though usually
translated as World Champs, its similarity to the phrase “Masters of the World”
evokes the contemptible Nazi goal of world domination. Yet Germans are still
able to celebrate being German, as evidenced by the rapture unleashed at
securing their fourth title in the world’s favorite sport. Hundreds of thousands
packed the Fan Mile in Berlin, many waving German flags, to see their beloved
football heroes hoist the trophy in front of the Brandenburg Gate. There are
few other occasions where Germans exhibit unrestrained pride in their country,
and I contend that reluctance is a result of their culpability in supporting
the Nazi regime. Though few Germans alive today bear direct responsibly,
remnants of guilt for their ancestors’ crimes remain.
Even I, as a German-American,
feel the ambiguity of rooting for the German National Team. I find myself in
“defense-mode” when friends, co-workers and even family members question my
loyalties. When Germany played the USA in the Group Phase, I avoided declaring my
sympathies, lest people reproach me. I, too, experience the guilt of rooting
for players whose grandparents may have committed unspeakable crimes. But then
I remind myself that my own forebears came to these shores from Germany in the
mid-nineteenth century and therefore bore no responsibility for the acts of
twentieth century Germans. Indeed, my own father served in the US Army during World
War II.
There is more to German identity
than the dishonor of the Second World War. There is Beethoven, Kant, von
Steuben and now a World Championship to instill pride. Flag-waving and self-respect
need not be shameful things. And that comes with the gradual realization that
Germany has more to offer the world than its Nazi past.
