The story of a unique rivalry held by the Federal Republic of Germany (West Germany) and the German Democratic Republic (East Germany) does not fit into a solitary official meeting between the respective national teams at the 1974 World Cup.
The East Germans won on that occasion, but many of the broader political elements that had split Europe, and so heavily influenced German soccer, still linger.
A rivalry like no other
It was a surprise to many when East Germany ran out as 1-0 victors over their Western counterparts in a group game at the 1974 World Cup, on West German soil to boot.
That result in Hamburg meant the East Germans topped their group yet curiously advanced into an arguably tougher second round group than hosts West Germany, who eventually went on to win the World Cup.
West Germany invited East Germany to participate in friendly matches during the years of separation, but GDR authorities wouldn’t allow it despite a demand for this fixture to be arranged from many within East Germany.
The players swapped shirts in the changing rooms after that famous occasion in ‘74, out of sight of government officials. It was clear that the rivalry wasn’t as strong in stadiums as it was in government buildings.
The roots of the split
Following Nazi defeat in the Second World War, Germany was divided by the Allies into separate states. Within five years of the war’s conclusion, communist parties, who were heavily influenced by the Soviet Union, had gained control of East Germany as part of the Cold War’s beginnings.
Decades of continental anxiety and military threats followed until Germany was finally reunified following the collapse of the Berlin Wall, yet the scars remain. During that period, elite level soccer clubs situated in East Germany would compete in the DDR-Oberliga, while West German outfits would battle it out at a regional level until 1963, when the Bundesliga was formed for the entire Federal Republic of Germany. How clubs, and the league generally, would be run on either side of the Berlin Wall differed greatly.
East German secret police, the Stasi, affiliated themselves with prominent soccer clubs like Dynamo Dresden, who were a successful outfit during the Cold War years.
Whether they like it or not, the club is intrinsically linked to its history. In fact, the moniker “Dynamo” is a Soviet remnant, or more specifically, a Stasi remnant for clubs part of the “Sportvereinigung Dynamo”, the association of sports clubs operated by East German police forces.
This wasn’t uncommon. Clubs bearing “Vorwärts” within their name were usually run by the GDR army. Each department wanted to assert their power and image, and a soccer club proved an effective way of doing so.
These ties can be difficult for a club’s hierarchy to shake, however, particularly if their own fans sing about this by-gone era (I implore you to search out Dynamo Dresden fans chanting “Ost, Ost, Ostdeutschland”, translated to “East, East, East Germany!”, away at Hamburg – the very city that East Germany overcame West Germany in, no less).
This could be disregarded as an innocent display of regional pride rather than political glorification, however. Reportedly, several East German clubs’ fans still roar about “The Zone”, a nickname for the former East Germany. Either way, Dynamo Dresden paid a heavy price back in the day for both their on-pitch success and those aforementioned Stasi links.
What was the role of ‘sports washing’ during the split?
‘Sportswashing’ is a popular term bandied around within soccer lately. Well, Berliner FC Dynamo were an example of repressive leadership using a sports club to enhance their image.
Erich Mielke, who was Deputy State Secretary of the Stasi, grew tired of the same names in the world of Berlin soccer dominating. He’d had enough. He decided that Berlin needed its own Stasi-run outfit]
The sacrificial lamb for this plan of his was to be Dynamo Dresden, who were to be relocated to Berlin and lose the core of its squad.
Berliner FC Dynamo were formed and controversially took Dresden’s league position in the top flight and went on to be successful, leaving Dresden to participate in the lower leagues for a while.
Union Berlin fans claim to be apolitical, but many attested to an anti-Stasi stance at the time, like countless others in both East and West Germany. So when your neighbors are run by the state’s secret police, this is a recipe for intensity.
Union knew they were up against a powerful regime, but wore that underdog tag as a badge of honor. Knowing they were not a de facto Stasi operation was itself a victory. The Berlin club dropped ‘Dynamo’ from their name for a while after reunification, but it was eventually reinstated after fans voted in its favor, which might not have helped Union-BFC relations.
Yet this felt like less of a geographical rivalry, because a lot of Germans on either side of the Berlin Wall didn’t subscribe to such division and only wanted unity. It was politically fuelled by Cold War elements that resulted in a West and an East Germany.
Evidence of union behind the divide
The intriguing political background also played its part in promoting a friendly fixture in 1956. It was announced that current East German champions Wismut Karl-Marx-Stadt would meet West German powerhouse 1. FC Kaiserslautern in Leipzig, East Germany.
Almost 500,000 fans applied for tickets, with around 100,000 eventually attending. An incredible number for any era. The surrounding narrative of East versus West was too enticing for some to stay away from.
Kaiserslautern players and coaching staff described being accosted by GDR border workers, but were reportedly welcomed by the Leipzig populace in the streets and in the stadium. The hatred didn’t appear to be there for the average person, just the ruling regimes.
Historically, matches between Eastern and Western clubs were eagerly anticipated, although they were infrequent. Perhaps that added to their allure.
There were 17 recorded competitive games featuring a West German and an East German club. One of these encounters is still hailed as a soccer miracle in Germany.
The miracle of Bayer 05 Uerdingen
Eyebrows were raised when broadcasters decided to televise Bayer 05 Uerdingen versus Dynamo Dresden in the 1986 European Cup Winners’ Cup instead of Bayern Munich’s European Cup tie against Belgian giants Anderlecht, but games loaded with such political and cultural undertones don’t come around that often.
Dynamo Dresden traveled to Krefeld with a comfortable 2-0 lead after the first leg. When the whistle blew for half time in the second leg at the Grotenburg-Kampfbahn, you could forgive the home fans for heading for the exit, considering their beloved Uerdingen were 3-1 down in this game, and had to somehow fight from 5-1 behind on aggregate.
The game was as good as over. But what followed was quite incredible; six second half goals from Uerdingen, with none in reply, stunned the travelers and became known as the “Wunder von der Grotenburg”, wholly justifying the decision of the TV executives.
The magnitude of the defeat soon became apparent to Dresden’s manager, Klaus Sammer, who was fired almost straight after the match. In an interview years later, he specifically requested not to receive any questions about that fateful night. Who could blame him?
The manner of the defeat was a travesty for the Stasi image. The ramifications of that game didn’t end there. Dynamo Dresden attacker Frank Lippmann saw the trip to West Germany as an opportunity to escape from the Eastern communist regime.
He decided against returning back to Dresden with his teammates, opting to stay in the West instead, leaving family behind. Scenarios like this seem unfathomable in modern day soccer, but the East versus West reality in Europe at the time was soberingly real.
The economic impact of the divide
Many areas within the former East Germany still suffer economically compared to their Western neighbors – over €10,000 difference in GDP per capita according to several researchers.
Many within the mainstream German media attribute the friction felt between East and West since reunification to this financial disparity. This has, supposedly, instigated some sections of Hansa Rostock and Dynamo Dresden’s fan-bases, for example, becoming associated with extreme socio-political views, subsequently creating animosity between them and many other clubs around Germany who oppose those opinions.
In fact, FC St. Pauli versus Hansa Rostock has been labeled the “Politisches Derby” (Political Derby), because of the conflicting views the supporters hold.
The atmosphere on matchdays appears astonishingly venomous. It’s difficult to brush aside German separation, and the economic struggles that East German cities encountered after the fall of the Berlin Wall, as non-contributing factors to these rivalries.
The legacy of soccer in East & West Germany
Occasionally though, soccer can bring out the best in people. There are very few circumstances where you would get fans chanting about their neighbors in a show of solidarity, but this was routine between supporters of Hertha BSC and 1. FC Union Berlin during the Cold War era.
Neither club openly held a political agenda. Union fans in West Berlin would regularly attend Hertha games, and vice versa. This was partly due to a common enemy in Berliner FC Dynamo (again, the “Dynamo” title and what it stood for), but mostly because fans knew their city and people were torn apart against their will.
This division brought unity. The younger generations haven’t experienced these struggles, hence why some are so eager to establish a fierce rivalry between the biggest Berlin clubs.
During the days of separation, neither team was really successful, and they rarely competed against each other. Maybe this made their mutual friendliness more palatable. Reunification saw the clubs clash on the pitch, but older fans, who have seen what division can bring, remained keen to stay friendly.
Fans can now reflect on those fascinating rivalries between clubs from those respective states, and the former national teams, from the comfort of a unified Germany. The older generations will continue to impart their message: for the average person in modern day Germany, there is more to unite them than there is to divide them.