In many German cities as well as in other countries, there are museums and memorials to remember and reflect on the Nazi era and the Holocaust. Each has its own story and focus, but as the years pass, the question above pushes itself to the front. Has what might have been clear decades ago become less clear to newer generations? What changes are needed?



In Cologne, in a building that was once the local Gestapo headquarters, the NS-DOK museum is asking that question, not only of itself but of visitors as it prepares to rethink and re-display the artifacts and images it holds. Other signs throughout the building raise the question in other ways.

The building itself is a quite ordinary one, built originally as residential and commercial and bought by the Gestapo in 1935. The new owners made significant changes, including a basement holding prison. The corner building, which the Gestapo occupied, was connected to its neighbors on both sides after they were rebuilt in the late 1940s. Ironically, the bombing that destroyed them left the Gestapo building mostly undamaged.



But even the building is up for re-examination. Aside from the basement cells, much is uncertain and it is not clear what was what when the Gestapo was there. Between the merger of the three buildings and decisions made by a previous generation of curators who set up the exhibits in the 1990s, the museum points out, not everything may be what it looks like.



And that’s not just the layout of the building. The goal of the original exhibits was and is clear: to dispel “the widespread myth that most of Cologne’s citizens had been opposed to National Socialism,” an important issue for Germany in the post-war era. But, the museum asks, is that enough? What more has been learned in the decades since? What about the stories that were told, or not told?



The story at NS-DOK (which stands for National Socialism Documentation Center) starts in the period just after World War I. The monarchy was gone, a republic was proclaimed, and both left and right groups struggled for power in Cologne and elsewhere. Cologne was in a unique situation; British occupation lasted until 1926, and it was the center of the demilitarized Rhineland until Hitler marched in in 1936.


After the Nazis came to power, there was a period of ‘gleichschaltung,’ or coordination, bringing into line. The exhibit includes walls listing every one of the thousands of clubs, unions, associations, sports teams and more in the city; it was a period in which all were either brought into line with Nazi policies or banned.


Nazi organizations were built, including the Hitler Youth and League of German Girls; city officials who had opposed them were forced out and in some cases jailed. And, the Gestapo bought itself a building and expanded its operations.


Many, including Gerd Arntz, the artist who made this anti-Nazi and anti-capitalist woodcut as a wall poster, went into exile, voluntarily or not.

Those are all known facts, almost easy issues to point to—which is why NS-DOK continues asking its viewers for more, for ideas on how and what to present.
And they raise another issue: “The Nazi regime produced vast quantitates of propagandistic texts and images of its rule. They portray ideals and can promote false conceptions or even a fascination with National Socialism. Such representations can also be seen in this exhibition. The fact that they do not reflect reality is not always clear. We want to display these propaganda products, but above all explain them as stagings. How can this work?” At a time when neo-Nazi symbols are reappearing in many places, that’s an important question.

Cheap radios were the means to a wider spread of propaganda; the poster text is “All of Germany hears the Führer with the People’s Receiver”—an electronic companion of sorts to the People’s Car or Volkswagen.


The exhibit touches on the Nazi campaign to separate belief in a god or gods from existing religions whose leaders might oppose the regime; the headline and pamphlets proclaim German belief, not Catholic.

Another thorny question, along with how to present images of people marginalized and persecuted without losing their stories and lives as they understand and experience them; how can they be present not just as objects? And how to deal with language and expressions that are part of the history, but which we would not use today?




While most of Cologne’s and Germany’s population came to either support the Nazis or chose “anpassung,” or adjustment to the situation, some resistance continued in many places, including these underground flyers, and small notes, not unlike today’s Post-Its, that were passed hand-to-hand or left surreptitiously, calling on people not to buy from Nazis and to oppose other policies.


The current permanent exhibition carries on to the end of the war and the destruction of much of the city, including images with the power to shock. And again, NS-DOK asks, what is the ipact of these? What do they convey? How should they be used?
NS-DOK questions itself and us around a topic that is still difficult after all these years—but many of the questions it’s asking us and itself would be good for any museum to consider.








