A reflection on the freedoms citizens in Munich have and the realities of war.
The triumphal arch is an imposing legacy of Roman imperial grandure and conquest. From Paris’ majestic Arc d’Triomphe to Athen’s crumbling Arch of Hadrian, Europe is littered with these testimonials to the glory of military victory. Munich boasts its own such memorial, although even long-time residents would be forgiven for not knowing of its existence. The Siegestor, planted in the flow of Leopoldstrasse traffic at the southern edge of Schwabing, has been shrouded in scaffolding for the past several years. Enormous advertisements for yogurt, jeans and software have concealed the monument with commercialized glamour. For some time I was convinced the city fathers had made a Faustian pact with the advertising slicks to keep the prime property under wraps long after renovations had actually been completed in some lucrative arrangement to fill the city coffers. But, with auspicious timing, the pipes and webbing have, in recent weeks, been peeled away. What they reveal is not a chest-thumping celebration of conquest but a startlingly powerful plea for peace. At the time of this writing, the disturbing news from Kosovo has turned the world’s attention to the horrors of war – again. It is unfathomable that Europe could be the stage for ethnic persecution and slaughter, that the seas of stability are again being roiled by religious hatred just fifty years after the end of the most appalling devastation this continent has seen. Were we fools to believe Europa, exhausted by the viscerations of war and newly united by common economic interests, had laid down her sword for good? The danger that a spark in Serbia may set off the Balkan tinderbox and engulf Europe in war is frighteningly real. Historical precedent confirms this region’s proclivities for triggering larger conflicts and current conditions offer little consolation that the situation has improved. It takes just a quick scan of the map to see how present the danger is for the entire continent. Austria, Germany’s mountainous but thin buffer zone, borders directly on Yugoslavia, a scant few hundred kilometers from Munich. For this reason it may be timely and wise to reflect on the message the Siegestor heralds for us. This monument, a triple arch of carved marble, crowned with a bronze Bavaria and four regal lions, seems to trumpet the glories of the Freistaat. The relief carvings which adorn the front panels and decorate the inner arches depict the scenes of victory and vanquish one would expect of a “victory gate,” as Siegestor is literally translated. But further examination reveals an essential difference. This German monument, denied of pride in military achievement by the horrific excesses it wrought upon Europe during the two world wars, bears words of searing simplicity. “Dem Siege geweiht/ Vom Kriege zerstoert/ Zum Frieden Mahnend.” “Dedicated to Victory/ Destroyed in War/ An Admonition for Peace.” In these precarious times, we would do well to bear this wisdom in mind. When the arch was erected, in 1850, by King Ludwig I, it was intended as a memorial to the victims and heros of the Bavarian Army in the Battle of Bavarian Liberation (1813-15). During the Second World War the arch sustained heavy damage and wasn’t restored to its former glory until 13 years later. In 1972, in preparation for the Munich Olympiade, the inscription – notably sensitive to Germany’s still-tender war wounds – was affixed to the monument. The Siegestor has itself suffered the indignities and devastations of war and the inscription it bears carries more weight today than ever. We all lead busy lives, we all have important responsibilities. But these are burdens we are privileged to have. Answer this privilege by giving a little of yourself or your wealth to the conflict-ravaged in Yugoslavia. Donate to a Kosovo aid fund. Volunteer at a refugee shelter here in Munich. Pick up a paper and study the situation if only for a few minutes each day. Kosovo may not affect you directly today, tomorrow it might.