‘Nationalism is an infantile disease. It is the measles of mankind.’ Albert Einstein’s deft avoidance of the question put to him in 1929 – whether he considered himself a German or a Jew – was prophetic of what would happen to his country in the following decade. He was just one of the many stars of Berlin, Europe’s dazzling, decadent centre of the arts and culture, whose spark would be dimmed or extinguished by Adolf Hitler.
Capturing the history, people and spirit of Berlin, arguably the beating heart of Europe, can be a tricky proposition, as I know. Sinclair McKay has wisely kept to analysing the city through the prism of the last century – or at least from the end of the Great War to the end of the Cold War.
Tens of thousands of women were raped by their conquerors in a systematic act of terror
Berliners were always a feisty, argumentative, liberal-minded bunch, never ones to bend to imperial whims or to follow Hitler blindly into the apocalypse.
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