Germans grapple with Nazi past as NSDAP membership database goes public

"I always thought of my grandfather as a left-wing unionist, and now he's turned up in the NSDAP database," Hanno Dannenfeldt told DW. It was always said in the family that his paternal grandfather had clean hands.

Now that the National Archives of the US has published its collection of National Socialist German Workers' Party (NSDAP) membership cards, Dannenfeldt is one of countless Germans eager to find out if their relatives were members of the party that ruled Germany during the Nazi era from 1933 to 1945.

But this has not been an easy task: The site is often inaccessible due to heavy traffic, and the user interface is difficult to navigate. To find what you're looking for, you first have to click through a lot of documents.

A German tool simplifies the search

That's why the German weekly newspaper Die Zeit has developed a tool that simplifies the search. You simply enter the name, and perhaps the year and place of birth of a person — and the results appear immediately. These records are sure to be of interest to people in South America as well, since many Nazis went into hiding there after World War II. However, a subscription is required to use the service.

What one finds there can be painful. Often, it means suddenly seeing one's own family in a very different light. The memories one has of a loving grandfather who was always full of fun and energy can contrast sharply with evidence now presented in black and white that this very same grandfather was a member of the National Socialist Party.

After the war, few families spoke about the crimes of the Nazi era, let alone their own role in them. According to a study, more than two-thirds of Germans believe that their ancestors were not Nazis. Nearly 36% believe that their relatives were among the victims, and over 30% believe that their ancestors helped victims of the Nazis — for example, by hiding Jews.

But this can't possibly be true. Only about one percent actively resisted. In 1945, one in five adult Germans was a member of the Nazi Party — which had a total of 8.5 million members — thereby lending their support, at least on paper, to that unjust system.

No acknowledgement of wrongdoing: 'These are good, honorable people'

After the war, Germans preferred to push this out of their minds. Germany lay in ruins, occupied by the Americans, British, French and Russians. Hitler had committed suicide, thereby evading justice. The other major war criminals were indicted and convicted in the Nuremberg Trials. "There's always been this notion: 'Okay, they're the ones responsible.' But that leaves the rest of society off the hook," cultural studies scholar Aleida Assmann told DW.

That changed when doctors, industrialists and civil servants also appeared in court and had to answer for their role under the Nazis. "Then people said, 'But now practically everyone is on trial. That can't be right. These are good, honorable people,'" explains Christian Staas, head of the history department at Die Zeit. "And the Germans began to push back against such trials. Most saw themselves as victims of National Socialism and not as the ones who were guilty."

They also claimed to have known nothing about the mass murders of the Jews. As part of "re-education" efforts, the Allies pressured all Germans to watch documentary films in movie theaters about the liberated concentration camps; the aim was to combat the collective denial of an entire people.

Practically everyone got a 'Persil certificate'

At the same time, the process of so-called denazification began. Every German had to fill out pages of questionnaires providing personal information, details about their career, and information regarding NSDAP membership.

Naturally, everyone tried to present themselves as favorably as possible. Even a member of the SS could have his Nazi affiliation expunged if he could credibly demonstrate that he did not support the ideology. One common excuse was to claim that joining the party was necessary to continue one's studies, and that they were otherwise opposed to the Nazis.

People mockingly referred to the denazification certificates as "Persil certificates" — named after the laundry detergent that "gets clothes extra white." As Aleida Assmann says, "White is the color of purity and flawlessness and, of course, innocence." People washed away their guilt with the "idea of Persil."

She explains that it was important to the Western Allies — above all the Americans — to restore Germany to a functioning state. "Making a clean break and creating a fresh start was their goal. National Socialist society had to be transformed into a democratic society, but with the same people: How could this be achieved? By forgetting. People simply stopped talking about it."

Konrad Adenauer, the first chancellor of the young Federal Republic, took a pragmatic view of the whole matter: "You don't pour out dirty water if you don't have any clean water," he said, thereby justifying the inclusion of former Nazis in the new government.

It took a generation for questions to be raised

After the war, Germans were busy rebuilding their bombed-out country. Then came the economic miracle and new prosperity in the 1950s. It wasn't until the next generation that people began asking their parents uncomfortable questions.

A historic moment occurred in 1968 when activist Beate Klarsfeld slapped then-Chancellor Kurt Georg Kiesinger, shouting "Nazi, Nazi." Kiesinger had once been a high-ranking member of the NSDAP, always served Hitler loyally, and had most recently served as head of the Reich Broadcasting Department.

"Another important milestone in coming to terms with the past was the television series 'Holocaust' from the late 1970s," says Die Zeit editor Staas. Everyone could follow the fate of the Jewish Weiss family on their screens. The US series sparked a lively debate about the guilt of everyone in German — after all, they had witnessed the deportation of the Jews.

Records revealed complicity — and triggered defensiveness

Yet the tendency to downplay the past persists to this day, often helped along by the sentiment that life must go on. This is true even in Hanno Dannenfeldt's family: His maternal grandfather — as was well known in the family — was a member of the Napola, an elite boarding school where the Nazis sought to train the next generation of military and political leaders.

"But as soon as it concerns one's own family, the willingness to dig deeper isn't really that strong," says Dannenfeldt. "When you confront people with this, a rationalizing rhetoric quickly emerges. In my grandfather's case: 'He was just so young; his father had sent him to the Napola. But afterward, he was a good husband, a good father, a good grandfather.'"

Too late to interview eyewitnesses

Eighty-one years after the fall of the Nazi regime, it's becoming difficult to shed light on the motives of ancestors who joined the NSDAP, or even to answer the question: Was someone a die-hard Nazi or just a follower?

The date someone joined the party can provide some insight, says Christian Staas: "If someone joined the party before 1933 (the year the Nazis came to power, Ed.), it can be concluded that this person was a true believer in the ideology."

"My great-grandfather, for example, was one of the first to join the party back in 1933. And then there were others who didn't join until 1942 or 1943," says Hanno Dannenfeldt. "Unfortunately, all we can do today is speculate: Maybe there was peer pressure. Or, as in the case of my other great-grandfather — who was a cattle dealer and a large landowner — he may have had business reasons for joining the party."

The fact is, however, that no one was forced to join or enrolled into the party without their knowledge — as has been claimed in many families. Hanno Dannenfeldt regrets that the names of former members are only now coming to light. "I'm frustrated by all the conversations we've had that only touched lightly on the subject. But we didn't have anything concrete to go on — nothing in black and white, like we suddenly have now with these membership cards. I mean, we're talking about one of the greatest crimes against humanity."

What do we learn from the past?

Germany is now regarded abroad as a world leader in how to confront a country's dark past. There are 100,000 Stolpersteine (or "stumbling stones") embedded in streets to remember the victims of National Socialism, a Holocaust memorial stands in the heart of Berlin and schools place a particular focus on the Nazi era.

At the same time, right-wing extremism is on the rise in Germany as well, with the far-right populist party Alternative for Germany (AfD) gaining influence. Hanno Dannenfeldt wonders whether similar forces will soon take hold as they did during the Nazi era: "Some people might think, 'I'll join the AfD and make a career for myself.' When you realize that your own family didn't put up much of a fight back then, it makes you think about just how great the danger is today as well."

According to a woman interviewed by Die Zeit, the real question is no longer about the past, but about us: "How we act when the political landscape changes — and whether we then have the courage to take the necessary steps to protect our fundamental democratic values."

This article was originally written in German.