The wrong side

‘In years and generations down the line, there's going to be a right and wrong side of history, and I certainly want to be on the right side’. (Duncan Robinson)

Shortly after the end of World War 2 at the Nürnberg War Trials, Hermann Göring, a leading Nazi figure, attempted to absolve himself by claiming, ‘The victor will always be the judge, and the vanquished the accused.’ It’s as if the accusations levelled against him for the horrific atrocities of the Nazi regime and, therefore, the necessity for him to defend himself now on trial, were a consequence of the Allies winning the war and the Nazis losing it. It was an attempt to deflect personal responsibility, to re-present historical facts as politically-construed by the victors.

No-one can know for sure if Göring actually believed his own cynical rationalisations. We do, however, know that Adolf Hitler was driven by a similar sentiment at the end of World War 1. He felt a seething resentment that, after all he and his comrades had endured during that war, Germany was now presented to the world as the undisputed guilty party and aggressor. The Allies were able to console themselves that their suffering during the war had been worth it, to defeat the evil enemy. The Germans had no such consolation. They were on the wrong side – and lost.

This week, I was in Germany and visited the preserved remnants of the infamous Berlin Wall. I spoke with a friend, Alex, who shared some of his own experiences of visiting this place just after the Wall came down. For some people with whom he spoke in the (now former) Deutsche Demokratische Republik (DDR), they had the feeling of being on the wrong side in World War 2 under the Nazis, and then again under the Eastern (Communist) Bloc. It’s hard existentially to carry a cultural history, an international portrayal, a feeling of guilt: to have been on the wrong side.