1650198013 Life in a parallel universe

Life in a parallel universe

A man holds a placard in support of Ukraine as he takes part in a demonstration near the Russian Embassy to protest escalating tensions between Russia and Ukraine, Tuesday February 22, 2022, in Berlin, Germany .  Lawmakers on Tuesday gave Russian President Vladimir Putin permission to use military force outside the country.  The move that could herald a broader attack on Ukraine after the US said an invasion was already underway there.  (AP photo/Markus Schreiber)

A man holds a placard in support of Ukraine February 22 during a demonstration near the Russian embassy in Berlin. (Markus Schreiber / Associated Press)

René Herrmann took a radical step to attract the most attention.

When he joined a convoy organized to protest anti-Russian sentiments, he put a sign emblazoned with the Star of David on the hood of his vehicle.

“What the Bad Jew used to be [during Germany’s World War II Nazi era] is now the bad Russian,” he said. “Russophobia is everywhere.”

Since the Russian invasion of Ukraine, there have been protests against Moscow’s actions around the world, and certainly in Germany, where activism abounds in places like Berlin. The increase in anti-Russia votes has led to some Russian bashing. But it’s no secret that many of the more than 2 million migrants from the former Soviet Union now living in Germany are strong supporters of Vladimir Putin. And they’ve never been afraid to publicly show their support.

It is overtly expressed in the appropriation of the Star of David – widely recognized as a symbol of Judaism and Jewish identity – in much the same way that people against COVID-19 vaccine and mask mandates have used the symbol and the Holocaust to express outrage at the mandates, which they call fascism, which goes back to Nazi Germany. German Nazis forced Jews to wear the symbol to mark them as enemies and were rounded up and sent to concentration camps where millions were killed during World War II.

While using the Star of David – or the Holocaust – in this way is considered offensive, it’s not the only symbol the pro-Russian crowd in Germany has embraced. Alongside huge Russian national flags, the letter Z can be seen on Russian tanks and trucks in Ukraine – which stands for Za pobedu [“For victory”] — and the letter V for Sila v pravde [“Our strength is in truth”] are also omnipresent at these rallies. Many protesters also wear the black and orange ribbon of Saint George, a symbol of World War II victory and Russian military glory. Anyone showing these symbols will be fined or prosecuted in Berlin.

The story goes on

Herrmann, a German – not of Russian descent – runs a car dealership in East Berlin. He said he had not personally witnessed any anti-Russian bashing, but the internet was full of such stories.

Since the war began, more than 500 crimes related to discrimination against Russians, Ukrainians now living in Germany and supporters on both sides of the border have been reported to the authorities. Among them were mainly property damage and insults. These encounters are also reflected in entries on the website of the Russian Embassy in Berlin, where people can report such incidents. However, the anonymous reports are all minor and sometimes difficult to verify.

“We have to be very careful that this war does not spill over into our society,” said Federal Interior Minister Nancy Faeser. “This war must not be waged on the backs of Ukrainians or Russians in Germany.”

Just a few days ago, a Soviet memorial in Berlin was covered in graffiti. The graffiti read: “Ukrainian blood on Russian hands” and “Putin = Stalin”.

Even if the crimes have so far remained relatively small, they are fodder for Moscow’s supporters. A Telegram channel called “Putin Fanclub” has almost 33,000 subscribers. Other similar channels like “News from Russia” have more than 127,000.

“The elitist idiots never learn from history, the more pressure is exerted on Russia, the stronger the unity of the people,” it said in a statement.

Among German-based Putin supporters, the war is regularly referred to as the “liberation of Ukraine.” Right-wing platforms such as the right-wing extremist Compact Magazine are cheering the German-Russian friendship.

“If there’s one lesson from history, it’s this: Germans and Russians must never let themselves be played against each other again,” said Jürgen Elsässer, editor-in-chief of the magazine. “There are arsonists in Kyiv who want to tear down the whole world to save their regime.”

All of these groups play on existing anti-American, anti-NATO and anti-Western sentiments.

“The mindset of the radical right is consistently on the same anti-Western course as Putin,” says Matthias Quent, a researcher at the University of Applied Sciences in Magdeburg and one of the best-known German researchers in the field, who sees a lot of overlap with other groups.

“When Russian flags wave at anti-COVID rallies in Saxony or when demonstrators march in front of the Russian embassy and then shout slogans like ‘Putin free us’, then there is clearly an overlapping of interests.”

Alsatian’s Telegram channel “Compact Magazine” has over 60,000 subscribers. The channel also distributes videos from the blocked Russian propaganda TV channel RT.

“Polarization is definitely increasing,” Quent said. “Many see the ban on RT as proof that they are in fact telling the truth.”

Reports of Russophobia fall into the same pattern.

“When incidents, real or fake, are reported, they immediately go viral on social media,” he said. “In the end, no one knows what’s really going on.”

Whether the incidents are based on fact or fiction, the rifts in society are widening.

With new convoys and protests in German cities lately, the question remains: Why is there still a vocal minority taking a pro-Russian line? Many of them are of German descent. They left the former Soviet Union because they felt alien there and wanted to return to their homeland.

“But here in Germany they were seen as Russians, not Germans. At some point they started thinking, ‘Okay, if we’re seen as Russians, we pretend to be,'” said Vladimir Kaminer, one of the best-known contemporary Russian writers who has lived in Berlin for more than 30 years. “When you lose your social status, you quickly develop an inferiority complex.”

One way of compensating for this is to take on the role of victim, says Kaminer, who has been involved in German-Russian soul research for a long time.

When the phone rings in the house of a 75-year-old historian in Detmold, North Rhine-Westphalia, a Russian radio can be heard in the background. Of German descent – he did not want to be named for data protection reasons – his family moved from Kazakhstan to West Germany in 1983. When asked about his feelings towards Russia, he quickly takes a stance.

“The West supports the bandits in Kyiv,” he said. “With the eastward enlargement, NATO broke its promises to Russia. Russia was in danger and had to defend itself.”

Everything he says seems straight out of the Kremlin’s playbook. He speaks in a firm voice to the hundreds of Ukrainian civilians killed in Bucha, some of whom were shot with their hands tied behind their backs.

“They’re all actors,” he said. “And so does your president. You can’t trust them.”

A week after the start of the Berlin convoy, Herrmann regretted putting the Star of David on his vehicle.

“The police fined me and that’s fine,” he said dryly.

When asked if he would organize another protest, he would without question, he said.

“I’ll just wait until after May 9, when Putin’s victory parade in Red Square is over.”

Ziener is a special correspondent.

This story originally appeared in the Los Angeles Times.