Olympia has long stood for gigantism and corruption, for hubris and commerce. That things were different can be read in “München 72” by Markus Brauckmann and Gregor Schöllgen.
If the events five years later – Schleyer, Mogadishu, Stammheim – were “the German autumn”, then Munich 72 can rightly be described as “the German summer”. “Munich 72 is for the Germans what the moon landing was for the Americans: a dawn into a new era,” write the two authors.
Brauckmann, author and documentary filmmaker, and Schöllgen, professor of modern and contemporary history, viewed masses of sources and spoke to a whole range of protagonists. Your book breathes the spirit of the time, at least that of the first days: the two authors tell the story of the games in a cheerful and lively way, just like Munich 72 is at the beginning: “The German summer was a way of life.”
Even today, Munich 72 with the architecturally breathtaking Olympic Stadium and the corporate design by Otl Aicher stands for the beginning of modernity in the Federal Republic. A quarter of a century after the Second World War and 36 years after Hitler’s propaganda games in Berlin, the world marvels at the Germans. Apparently they can do it differently. Yes, Munich 72 is also “the exorcism intended to drive out the damned curse of the games under the swastika”.
But the beautiful summer comes to an abrupt end: on September 5, a Tuesday, at around 4:30 in the morning, Palestinian terrorists attack the Olympic Village, killing two Israelis and taking nine others hostage. According to Brauckmann/Schöllgen, it is “the first terrorist attack to be shown live on television”.
That alone reveals the complete helplessness of the German authorities, which comes to a horrible end with the failed prisoner liberation at Fürstenfeldbruck Airport. “The world is amazed a second time at the Germans,” write Brauckmann/Schöllgen. “After the international guests were surprised at the start of the games by the ease prevailing in the country, they are now amazed at the incompetence and helplessness of the otherwise well-organized Germans.”
That is the tragedy of these games. Joy and sadness still determine the image we have of Munich 72 today. They are as inseparable as the two sides of an Olympic gold medal. Because cheerfulness comes before safety is a conscious decision by the organizers of these games.
“No one in the new Germany wanted a police Olympics bristling with weapons,” write Brauckmann and Schöllgen. This is how the amusing games become ambivalent: “It was a summer of triumphs and defeats, of lightness and passion, but also of helplessness and failure.”
Markus Brauckmann, Gregor Schöllgen: Munich 72. A German summer. German publishing house, 364 pages, 25 euros.
