Ostbahnhof today

Ostbahnhof is situated on the edge of the Friedrichshain district on Stralauer Platz, not far from the River Spree. It acquired its current architectural and railway engineering design in the mid-1980s following an extensive refurbishment; in 1997, the façade underwent a modernising redesign. Until the construction of the current Hauptbahnhof, not far from the new government district, it was Berlin’s only through station for long-distance services. Its name changed far more frequently than that of other Berlin stations: Frankfurter Bahnhof (1842–1881), Schlesischer Bahnhof (1881–1950), Ostbahnhof (1950–1987 and 1998 to the present), Hauptbahnhof (1987–1998). For the sake of accuracy, the station will hereinafter be referred to by the name it bore during the period in question. The Schlesischer Bahnhof/Ostbahnhof links the district of Friedrichshain to German colonial history in several ways: Here, more closely than in other parts of Berlin, imperial expansion towards the East was linked not only to internal colonisation within what was then the socially ‘troubled district’ of Friedrichshain, but also to colonial fantasies regarding the Global South.

The station’s history began in 1836 with the founding of a company to build a railway line from Berlin to Frankfurt/Oder; its plans were approved in 1840 after objections from the military regarding the route had been addressed. The line was primarily intended to transport foodstuffs and livestock, as well as passengers and, if necessary, troops from Silesia to and from Berlin. Added to this was the Ostbahn, the first railway line to be state-owned from the outset, which linked Berlin with the easternmost parts of the country and the allied Russian Empire. Both lines served to exploit the natural and human resources of the East, both within and beyond the country’s borders. Frankfurt Station was the only station in Berlin to be built on a plot of land that had already been subdivided but remained undeveloped within the city walls; from the 1860s onwards, it became Berlin’s sole through station for long-distance traffic. With its focus on the Prussian eastern provinces and further into the Russian Empire, it served primarily to develop Prussia’s own territory as well as potential areas for imperial expansion on the European continent.

The eastern railway lines played a particular role, as Prussia possessed territories in the east that were only sparsely developed economically and administratively, and was looking for opportunities for imperial expansion primarily in this direction. Admittedly, the first railway lines leading eastwards – the Berlin–Frankfurt line and the subsequent line to Breslau/Wrocław – were established in the mid-1840s, like all early Prussian railways, as privately funded enterprises. However, the state and the military asserted their claims very early on, particularly in the licensing negotiations. Following initial doubts about the original route – which had been chosen solely to maximise immediate profits – the military also gave its consent, as the route also served strategic purposes. The result was that the Frankfurt Railway and, above all, the Lower Silesian-Brandenburg Railway were built with massive state funding and a state-guaranteed return – albeit with the stipulation that the state could take over the administration of the railways if profits fell too far short of expectations and the costs to the state consequently became too high. This scenario came to pass as early as the Restoration period following the failed revolution of 1848: although the private management attempted to keep the financial statements under wraps, Nevertheless, on 1 January 1852, the Lower Silesian-Mark Railway (NME) became the first railway line in Prussia to be fully nationalised, despite the fundamental reservations of Frederick William III, an opponent of the railways. As early as 1853, an express train was running between Berlin and Breslau; the station there, built in the English style between 1855 and 1857, has been preserved.

Furthermore, as early as the 1840s, the Prussian government had envisaged a railway line from Berlin to Königsberg and on to Eydtkuhnen (now Černyševskoe) on the border with the Russian Empire: The Ostbahn was intended to connect the easternmost parts of the country to the capital, thereby making them accessible in a way that would yield economic and social benefits. Private investors turned down the proposal, as this venture promised them, at best, only long-term returns. The Eastern Railway was therefore the first line to be built entirely at the state’s expense and under state supervision, making it a pioneering project in terms of transport and economic policy. Another factor was that, in the late 1840s, the Russian government had decided to build a line running westwards from Moscow – albeit with a wider track gauge. As Prussia, and later the German Empire, had been allied with Tsarist Russia from the partitions of Poland at the end of the 18th century right through to the 1880s, the Ostbahn ensured access to the vast Eurasian empire for the transport of raw materials and goods. An earlier plan to route the line via Frankfurt/Oder to the station of the Lower Silesian-Mark Railway was rejected in order to make the connection from Berlin to East Prussia more direct and thus faster. Furthermore, the aim was to avoid overloading the NME and thus ensure that the area between Berlin and Küstrin could be ‘opened up’ economically. This line was given its own station in Küstrin, not far from the Silesian station, although this became obsolete following the expansion of the latter: From 1882, the Ostbahn operated from here; the old station building was initially used as a warehouse and converted into a variety theatre in the late 1920s.[1]

From the 1870s onwards, both railways played an increasingly important role in the internal colonisation of the German Empire: The Ostbahn and the Silesian railways not only transported raw materials and transit migrants to France and overseas, but also young men and women who were recruited to work first in the Upper Silesian mining region, then in the burgeoning Ruhr region, or who sought work and an income in Berlin on their own initiative. In the last quarter of the 19th century, it was not uncommon for young landless people to be recruited to the West with free travel on the Ostbahn. Workers from the Silesian mining region were also recruited in this way – albeit as skilled workers.[2] The NME also served to supply Berlin with modern fuel, namely lignite from Lusatia and hard coal from Silesia. In the event of a need, it was intended to transport troops and their equipment rapidly to the east and south-east. During the Prussian–Austrian War of 1866, the Silesian line was used for troop transport alongside the Anhalter railway station. Both lines formed part of a network of ‘strategic railways’ which – as it now became apparent – were indeed capable of ensuring the rapid troop movements that had been hoped for. The Prussian forces, moved south in this way, converged at the Battle of Königgrätz on 3 July 1866, in which Prussia won the war and thus ultimately secured military and political hegemony over the German unification process.[3] At the same time, Frankfurt railway station was further expanded and extended to include a marshalling and goods yard shared with the Ostbahn.

The city railway line via Charlottenburg to Potsdam, built between 1878 and 1882 under state supervision, created a new through station that also served the growing long-distance traffic. The international Paris–Moscow night train, which ceased operations in 1998, used to stop here. Freight traffic on this route, however, was handled via Lehrter Bahnhof, now known as Hauptbahnhof; a restaurant named after the route since 1987 is located very close by. The train’s cross-border name and Berlin’s role as an important transit station should not, however, obscure the fact that relations with France were not always friendly: At Frankfurt Station, too, it was the reparations received by the German Empire from France following the war of 1870–71 that made major alterations to the track layout possible. In 1878, the foundation stone was laid for the new building, which was now named Schlesischer Bahnhof. For a short time, the station also served as the departure point for through coaches on the Baghdad Railway, although the Anhalter Bahnhof was the line’s most important station in Berlin. Through coaches to Prague and Vienna also departed from here.

The station took on particular significance as a catalyst for the development of a socially ‘troubled neighbourhood’, the emergence of which, at the height of German colonialism, also led to a peculiar amalgamation of colonial and socio-political concepts: The Schlesischer Bahnhof and its surroundings became the starting points for a form of internal colonisation, comprehensive disciplining and the moulding of the urban underclasses—whose milieus and behaviours were perceived as alien and hostile by the middle classes and social activists. As the self-constitution of a new profession of social workers took place during an era of intense enthusiasm for colonialism and exotic savagery, research and intervention in these milieus were not infrequently carried out in colonial terms: Proletarians and sub-proletarians were portrayed as ‘savages of civilisation’; to quite a few social policy-makers, workers appeared to constitute a distinct race, biologically distinct from the middle classes.[4]

As early as the negotiations concerning Frankfurt railway station in the 1840s, it had been argued that such a facility would attract ‘thieves and rabble’. A police station, which was incorporated into the plans for the new building of 1869 following state intervention, was intended to address such fears. These fears were certainly borne out in the eastern part of Stralauer Vorstadt (now Friedrichshain): To the north and north-east of the station – or stations – a veritable ‘social hotspot’ developed from the 1850s until the end of the Second World War: a working-class neighbourhood with an extremely poor reputation and its own set of rules. As early as the construction of the long-distance and inner-city railway lines in the second half of the 19th century, a process of spatial and social segregation began, which continued in the east-west division of the city after 1945: whilst middle-class and affluent families left the city centre for new western districts (initially to Schöneberg, Charlottenburg and Wilmersdorf, and later to the villa districts in Dahlem and Grunewald), the eastern neighbourhoods – notably around Schlesischer Bahnhof – became densely built-up with tenement blocks featuring multiple courtyards. This was further exacerbated by the fact that Berlin’s central abattoir was built not far from the station around 1880, which further discredited the neighbourhood in the eyes of the more affluent, despite their higher meat consumption. Naturally, social segregation was also evident within the station itself: in the new building, completed in 1869, there were separate entrances for the first- and second-class waiting rooms; tickets for the gentlemen were obtained by the service staff.

Furthermore, the Schlesischer Bahnhof served as a destination and transit station for a growing wave of migration from east to west that had been increasing since the 1880s: it was not without reason that, from the late 19th century onwards, the building was sometimes also referred to as the ‘Polish Station’[5]  In 1905, the station was expanded to 11 platforms to accommodate the growing number of transit migrants travelling overseas: according to estimates, 80 per cent of the 1.3 million Russian Jews who sought to travel to France or the USA before 1914 passed through the Silesian Station. Added to these were numerous Polish-speaking migrants: as the then Noble Republic of Poland had been partitioned between Prussia, the Habsburg Empire and Russia between 1772 and 1795, these migrants were German, Austrian and Russian nationals. The station also acted as a screening point in that the Prussian authorities checked identity documents and health upon arrival, even in the case of German citizens.

Middle-class Berliners and even the authorities had, at best, limited access to the neighbourhood north of the station. However, former residents recall not only poverty and misery but, above all, a sense of vitality, autonomy and solidarity.[6] Several housing surveys carried out by the local health insurance fund for tradespeople revealed, in some cases, catastrophic living conditions, with several people crammed into a cellar or attic in the old O[st] district. As Schlesischer Bahnhof was the arrival station for numerous migrants from the eastern provinces as well as from the Russian Empire and Galicia, there were, right up until the 1930s, numerous illegal lodgings in which, according to eyewitness accounts, sometimes only straw sacks were available as bedding. Some of these lodgings were also used as ‘hourly hotels’ for street prostitution.

It is therefore hardly surprising that middle-class social activists established their first Berlin bases in Friedrichshain. At the turn of the century, from the 19th to the 20th century, British and, following them, German doctors, lawyers and clergymen discovered metropolitan ‘slums’ as a kind of wilderness within their own country: Early reports on the conditions there resembled, in style and choice of words, travelogues from exotic colonies.[7] In 1911, the Protestant theologian and social pedagogue Friedrich Siegmund-Schultze founded the Soziale Arbeitsgemeinschaft Berlin-Ost (SAG) at Friedenstraße 66 as the ‘first settlement of educated people amidst the poorest sections of the population’.[8] The students working for the SAG were tasked with researching the social and cultural conditions in the neighbourhood and, through socio-cultural interventions – such as establishing contacts and organising courses and events – were to reach out primarily to working-class boys and guide them towards a middle-class way of life. At the same time, the women of the Kapellenverein, based in the same building, looked after young working-class girls. Success remained modest in both cases, as the young social educators primarily reached children from ‘respectable families’, whilst mistrust of the ‘posh types’ remained very much alive amongst the local population. The attempt to influence Social Democratic-minded fathers through their children also failed.[9]

Particular attention was paid to conditions in the neighbourhood during the trial of the ‘Beast of Schlesischer Bahnhof’, the serial killer Carl Großmann, who between 1918 and 1921 is known to have killed three, but is believed to have killed more than 23, and who was executed in 1922.[10] Furthermore, the case demonstrated that the work of Christian social educators had not brought about any significant change in conditions in Friedrichshain. As with similar cases of sexually motivated serial murders, for example in Düsseldorf or Hanover, there was here too a link to colonial discourses: The labelling and portrayal of Großmann as a ‘cannibal’ underscored the enduring otherness and danger of East Berlin, as well as the abysmal nature of tri-continental tribes, to whom cannibalism was attributed as a form of sustenance.[11]

The trial of Großmann was merely the gruesome, culminating highlight in a whole series of efforts to construct the proletarian female body as a particularly vulnerable commodity – especially when women moved about in public spaces without the appropriate education or conditioning and without the protective male accompaniment.[12] This applied in particular to migrant women: Whilst the young proletarian woman was merely accused of harbouring a tendency towards cultural and sexual primitivism and wildness that needed to be tamed, she was regarded – as the antithesis of normalised female domesticity and homemaking – as particularly vulnerable and as a potential threat.[13] As most migrant women came from the wild, uncivilised East, they were seen, in line with this construct, as bringing an aspect of the wilderness into the capital, as it were.

Well into the 1930s, the Schlesischer Bahnhof therefore received special attention from the Berlin Railway Station Mission, founded in 1897: Whilst the missionaries on Friedrichstraße dealt primarily with prostitution involving a middle-class clientele and ran a campaign against international ‘trafficking in women’ at Anhalter Bahnhof, the mission at Schlesischer Bahnhof was primarily concerned with channelling peasant and working-class women within, or into, the neighbourhood itself. The missionary women would stand on the platforms as trains arrived and intercept unaccompanied young women. They offered them support, in some cases accommodation or an escort to a pre-arranged place of work, and, to a lesser extent, assistance in finding such employment. The mission also collaborated with the vicars of the women’s home parishes: these would register women moving to the city with the railway station mission. In doing so, the missionary women were quite consciously treading a fine line between protection and assistance on the one hand, and the disciplining and moulding of female behaviour on the other. It was particularly at Frankfurt/Silesian Station, therefore, that the ambivalence of the protection offered to young women against moral decline became especially apparent: In fact, the vast majority of women who came to the attention of the railway station mission and were approached by it were already working voluntarily as prostitutes or were fleeing parental or authoritarian ‘care’. The missionary women patrolled the area around the station and would occasionally hand over women they had apprehended to the vice squad. In one instance, the mission reported young women from East Prussia, who had been recruited to work in a variety theatre in Amsterdam, to the local consulate and to German clergy.

With the advent of the Third Reich, the railway station mission’s work came to an end: from 1927 onwards, state authorities took over and radicalised the disciplining of the ‘asocials’; in 1939, all missions were closed. Naturally, from 1939 onwards, the station also served to transport troops and military equipment to the Eastern Front. It is likely that, during the war, contingents of forced labourers from the occupied Polish and Soviet territories arrived here and at the Ostbahn station, before being distributed via the suburban lines to transit and labour camps. In the opposite direction, a large proportion of the German settlers who were sent eastwards to ‘Germanise’ the occupied territories are likely to have been transported via the Silesian and Ostbahn lines.[14] The destruction of Berlin in 1944–45 ultimately brought an end to the Silesian Station and the surrounding ‘social hotspot’ as well: Large areas around the station were levelled and, in the late 1970s, developed with the multi-storey residential blocks favoured at the time. Some of the tracks were converted to broad gauge, which had already made the first express train to Moscow possible as early as June 1945; it was used by the Soviet military administration and, initially, for troop deployments to the Japanese front. On 17 July 1945, Stalin arrived here for the Potsdam Conference and was received by senior military officers before continuing his journey. With the division of West and East Berlin, the Schlesischer Bahnhof became the Ostbahnhof in 1950 and the most important station for long-distance and local rail travel in the GDR – once again operating as a terminus. As part of the GDR’s efforts to gain international recognition, it was used to host ceremonial receptions for ambassadors. In 1985, it was completely rebuilt and upgraded to become the main station of the GDR’s capital. Following the end of the GDR, it was downgraded back to Ostbahnhof.

Known as the ‘Frankfurter/Schlesischer Bahnhof’ or the ‘Polish Station’ or the ‘Station of the Nameless’, it was the gateway to the East, just as the Anhalter Bahnhof was the gateway to the South.[15] Until the end of the Second World War, it therefore played a central role in tapping into labour reserves in Eastern Europe – with all the undesirable side effects this entailed for both the state and civil society. Its place lies not so much in a history of overseas colonialism, but rather in the history of the colonisation of ‘our own’, largely undeveloped territories and their imperial expansion, as well as in the moulding of migrant and female patterns of behaviour and socio-cultural orientations. As the former main railway station of East Berlin, its architecture serves, at best, as a reminder of what was ultimately a failed attempt at reorientation following the Second World War.