Berlin, once the capital of a thousand-year Reich, now finds itself embroiled in a row over a decaying heap of concrete: a Nazi bunker slated for demolition. The usual suspects have descended upon the scene, crying ‘heritage’ and ‘absolutely madness’ as if we were debating the fate of the Parthenon. Let us be clear: this is not the Elgin Marbles.
This is a hunk of fascist architecture that has outlived its purpose. To preserve it is to fetishise ruins, to indulge in a morbid nostalgia that speaks more to our own intellectual decadence than to any genuine historical necessity. The Victorians understood heritage: they built, they improved, they did not mummify every structure that bore the stench of yesteryear.
We, on the other hand, treat history as a museum piece, forgetting that some relics deserve the dustbin of history. The bunker is a monument to tyranny, not a treasure. Its demolition is not madness; it is the cleansing of a stain.
Save your outrage for something that matters, like the collapse of our cultural standards. This row is a symptom of a society so comfortable that it invents controversies to feel alive. Absurd.
Utterly absurd.
