The Story of the Person who Founded the World’s First Anti-War Museum

In today's world, marked by escalating conflicts and geopolitical tensions, the principles of pacifism hold more significance than ever before. As wars once again ravage regions like Eastern Europe and the Middle East, the urgent need for nonviolent solutions and peaceful resolutions to international disputes becomes glaringly evident. Pacifism, rooted in the belief that violence and war are inherently destructive and counterproductive, advocates for the pursuit of peace through dialogue, diplomacy, and nonviolent resistance. Originating from various philosophical, religious, and cultural traditions, pacifism emphasizes the inherent dignity and worth of every human life, rejecting the notion that violence can ever be justified in achieving noble ends. One individual who epitomized the essence of pacifism and paid a heavy price for his unwavering commitment to nonviolence was Ernst Friedrich. Ahead of his time by a significant margin, Friedrich's steadfast refusal to participate in World War I and his unyielding opposition to militarism even led to his confinement in a mental institution.

Matti Geyer explains.

Ernst Friedrich.

Childhood & Youth

Ernst Friedrich was born on February 25, 1894, in Breslau (now Wrocław). Despite his humble beginnings as the thirteenth child of a washerwoman and a saddler, Friedrich's journey was marked by a relentless pursuit of justice and a commitment to pacifism. His parents imparted values of compassion and resilience that would shape Friedrich's lifelong dedication to humanitarian causes.

His early life was marked by the struggles of working-class existence. Despite limited formal education, he displayed a voracious appetite for knowledge and social activism. After a brief stint as a factory worker and an aborted apprenticeship as a book printer, Friedrich embarked on a journey of self-discovery, traversing Denmark, Sweden, Norway, and Switzerland as a "journeyman." It was during this period of exploration that Friedrich's encounters with anarchist thought and socialist principles ignited the flames of rebellion within him. In 1911 he joined the Social Democratic Party, but it was the outbreak of World War I that catalyzed his transformation into an ardent pacifist.

First World War: Confrontation with Conscience

The outbreak of World War I in 1914 thrust Friedrich into the heart of a moral quandary. Confronted with the prospect of military service, he steadfastly refused to partake in the bloodshed, citing conscientious objection as his guiding principle. His refusal to don a uniform led to his confinement in a psychiatric observation station, where he endured the harsh realities of wartime incarceration. Not wanting to serve for one's fatherland was simply unimaginable at the time. In 1917, he was further sentenced to prison in Potsdam for sabotage in a war-critical enterprise. He was released at the end of 1918 due to the November Revolution.

Friedrich's activism took various forms, from his involvement with illegal anarchist groups to his founding of the "Freie Jugend" (Free Youth), an anarchist group with a publication of the same name, advocating for anarchist principles and antiauthoritarian socialism. His publications were frequently banned or confiscated, and Friedrich repeatedly found himself in court. Lawyer Hans Litten defended him in numerous trials. After several previous convictions, on November 14, 1930, he was once again sentenced to one year in prison for his political activities, specifically "preparation for high treason." He was alleged to have been involved in distributing antimilitarist texts among the police and the Reichswehr. Friedrich's commitment to peace ultimately found expression in his establishment of the International Anti-War Museum in Berlin in 1925, which served as a testament to the horrors of war and a rallying point for peace activists.

The Anti-War Museum

At the heart of Friedrich's activism lay the Anti-Kriegs-Museum, a pioneering institution dedicated to exposing the brutal realities of war. Through meticulous curation and compelling exhibits, Friedrich sought to shatter the romanticized notions of warfare propagated by the authorities. In addition to objects from the First World War, paintings by Käthe Kollwitz and Otto Dix were exhibited. Furthermore, the museum founder managed to acquire and exhibit photographs of war mutilations, which were also published in a two-volume book titled "War Against War." The museum was predominantly financed through the sales of this book. The exhibition also addressed the issue of children playing with toy soldiers.

Nazi Persecution & Exile

Even before the Nazi takeover in 1933, Ernst Friedrich was terrorized by them. The windows of the Anti-War Museum were constantly destroyed, and Friedrich was regularly subjected to violent attacks. After the Reichstag fire, he was arrested on February 28, 1933. After his release, he fled in December of the same year. For some time, he found refuge in the Rest-Home project operated by Quakers. His first wife Charlotte Friedrich, née Meier (1895-1981) was able to emigrate to England. 

The Nazis looted the Anti-War Museum in March 1933 and renamed it „Richard Fiedler House“ (after SA leader Richard Fiedler). It then served as a meeting place for the SA until the demolition of the building in 1936. 

Ernst Friedrich ended up in Belgium, where he simply reopened his museum in Brussels in 1936. However, it was once again destroyed in 1940 following the German occupation of Belgium.

Joining the French Resistance

Ernst Friedrich and his son (who was also called Ernst) fled to France, where they were interned by the Vichy regime in the St. Cyprien camp, later in the Gurs camp. He managed to escape not only once but twice: First, after 18 months of imprisonment and for a second time after the Gestapo had tracked him down. While his son was arrested and forced to work as an interpreter for the Gestapo, Ernst Friedrich, despite being a committed pacifist, now joined the Resistance, fought in the liberation of Nîmes and Alès, was wounded twice, but managed to save around seventy children from a Jewish orphanage from deportation. 

Despite enduring internment in French concentration camps and facing the constant threat of arrest by Nazi agents, Friedrich remained resolute in his commitment to peace and resistance. His tireless efforts to defy oppression and aid the persecuted stand as a testament to the indomitable spirit of human resilience.

Legacy of Peace

Following the war, Friedrich became a French citizen and joined the Socialist Party, dedicating himself to the establishment of a new anti-war museum in France. In 1954, he received compensation for the loss of his property and the physical damage suffered in the Third Reich. With this, he bought approximately 3,000 square meters of wooded area on a Seine island near Le Perreux-sur-Marne (Val-de-Marne), where he established an international youth center. The "Swiss Pavilion", the "Berlin Pavilion", and the "Tolstoy House" built here together had fifty beds. With the help of a German union, the "Île de la Paix" (Peace Island) became an international meeting place for working youth from 1961 onwards. Friedrich now symbolically appointed himself as the "World Minister of Peace“. 

Plagued by severe depression in his final years, he died in 1967. His grave is located in the 5th Division of the cemetery of Le Perreux-sur-Marne, Val-de-Marne department. Peace Island was sold after his death and his written legacy destroyed.

A new Anti-War Museum 

On May 2, 1982, the 15th anniversary of Friedrich's death, his museum was re-established in Berlin. It was temporarily located in Berlin-Kreuzberg (which had a large anarchist population at that point) and has been at its current location in the district of Wedding since October 1984. Since then, Ernst Friedrich's grandson, Tommy Spree, and a group of volunteers have been running it. It is now recognized as a non-profit organization and is largely funded by donations. The museum's volunteers support the idea of peace and collaborate with students, politicians, artists, and scholars to design exhibitions. It displays relics from both World Wars. Rotating exhibitions also explore peace movements worldwide. Modern warfare with chemical and biological weapons is also depicted. A highlight of the visit is the trip to the basement, which is an original air raid shelter from World War II. In the cramped, light-tight space, visitors can immerse themselves in the feeling of the anxious nights spent in the bunker.

At the old location of the first Anti-War Museum, where the building no longer exists, a memorial plaque has been installed, with two World War I helmets hanging from the wall, in which flowers are growing.

Matti Geyer is a historical tour guide in Berlin: www.toursofberlin.com. His "Off the beaten path"-tour goes past the site of the first Anti-War Museum.

References

1. Bartolf, Christian, and Dominique Miething. "Ernst Friedrich (1894–1967)." Handbuch Anarchismus, Springer VS, Wiesbaden, 2023.

2. Kegel, Thomas. "Ernst Friedrich. Anarchistische Pädagogik in Aktion." In: Ulrich Klemm (Ed.): Anarchismus und Pädagogik. Studien zur Rekonstruktion einer vergessenen Tradition, pp. 126–137. Dipa Verlag, Frankfurt am Main, 1991.

3. Kegel, Thomas. "‘Krieg dem Krieg!’ Ernst Friedrich – Anarchist und revolutionärer Antimilitarist." Graswurzelrevolution, Heft 115, June 1986.

4. Klemm, Ulrich. "Ernst Friedrich." In: Hans Jürgen Degen (Ed.): Lexikon der Anarchie.Verlag Schwarzer Nachtschatten, Bösdorf/Plön, 1993, ISBN 3-89041-008-1.

5. Linse, Ulrich. "Ernst Friedrich zum 10. Todestag." (Europäische Ideen, Heft 29). Verlag Europäische Ideen, Berlin, 1977.

6. Opel, Jürgen. "Vergessen in Deutschland - Das Anti-Kriegsmuseum des Ernst Friedrich." Freitag, September 6, 1991, p. 13.

7. Spree, Tommy. Ich kenne keine ‘Feinde’. Der Pazifist Ernst Friedrich. Ein Lebensbild.Anti-Kriegs-Museum, Selbstverlag, Berlin, 2000.

The Importance of Museums - and why Checkpoint Charlie is a Bad Museum

Museums are important in helping us connect with the past and with historical events – but not all museums are equal. Here, Shannon Bent explains why she loves museums and why she was less than pleased while visiting the famous Cold War crossing point, Checkpoint Charlie, in Berlin.

Image of Checkpoint Charlie in 2015, provided by and shown with the permission of Shannon Bent.

The importance of museums

I will hold my hands up and admit that I am a museum nerd. It may seem a little niche and uninteresting, but I love museums. From a very early age, my parents took me to historical sites, castles, battlefields and museums. My love must have begun there. Not only was I learning (yes, I am that child that loved to learn), but I was also in a place where it was totally acceptable to enjoy learning what was around you. More than that, you were learning in a totally different way to sitting in a classroom being talked at for hours on end. I was interacting, I was playing with objects, I was touching things were hundreds of years old and I learning how they worked. This bought a huge amount of joy to me as a child, and thankfully it never wore off. Still to this day, I step into a museum and I feel at peace. It feels familiar, it feels safe and it feels homely. If you, like me, just love to be around knowledge and learning, you too will have a place which evokes the same kind of emotions. 

As I became older and began visiting the museums I had loved as a child in my adult years, it started to become clearer to me why these places were so important to me. They continued education and knowledge in such a way that you don’t realise you are learning. Yet days later you are still thinking about and remembering something you read or did in a museum. It then became my mission to try and get myself into these environments on a day-to-day basis and perhaps create this kind of feeling for another that could then fall in love with museums in the way I once had. 

Because of my love for these places, presenting themselves in old buildings, new buildings, caves, tunnels, rooftops and walls, wherever I go I seek out a museum. I am lucky enough to have the people closest to me sharing similar interests (or at least putting up with my interest) and so any holiday, day out or trip away can involve finding a new museum to explore. At the end of last year I travelled to Berlin. I don’t recall a day I didn’t visit a historical site or museum. It was there that I began thinking about this; a museum’s role in remembrance and commemoration, and how some places do it better than others. Yes, I can be critical of museums too!

Visiting Berlin

The first time I visited Berlin, I was eighteen years old. I was heading to university two months later still with a huge passion and love for history. The trip was with school; a bunch of us from history class and our favourite teachers. It was July and baking hot. On our school-arranged itinerary was the Checkpoint Charlie museum. I was excited and fascinated with this museum, having not had a chance in school to study the Cold War and was fuelled by my own interest and research. 

Checkpoint Charlie was, as you perhaps could guess, a checkpoint in central Berlin that during the Cold War when Germany was cut in two, allowed passing between the two sectors. West Germany, or the FRG, was controlled by the British, Americans and French. East Germany, the GDR, was controlled by the Soviet Union. This line, a crack through the country and indeed through the world, represented two very separate lives for the people that were zoned into these sectors. Checkpoint Charlie was a break in the physical wall that had been put up from August 13, 1961, and became a symbol of separation during the Cold War. After the wall came down in 1989 and the subsequent reunification of Germany, Checkpoint Charlie became a tourist attraction. 

You will see Checkpoint Charlie featured in many Cold War films, novels, and historical articles. It is a focal point, and an incredibly important site in history. I remember being upstairs in the Checkpoint Charlie museum, and from one of the windows you could look down onto the street and see the checkpoint. It remains as it was; the signs indicating the various sectors, the booth which housed the patrolling soldiers, it is all still standing. A snapshot of history preserved as it once was, hopefully forever, to remind people what happens when you build walls. I looked for a while, because to me it was captivating. Then I noticed there were ‘soldiers’ at the checkpoint. I say it like that, ‘soldiers’, because it was clear they were reproduction uniforms with an attempt to be historically accurate and failing pretty badly. Even me, aged eighteen, could see that it wasn’t right. Not only that, but they weren’t saluting correctly for the country that they were supposedly a soldier of. I remember pointing this out to my classmates, and my teacher, who all laughed along with me at how absurd the entire scene was. 

It clearly stuck in my head though, as I remember saying I wasn’t too bothered about seeing Checkpoint Charlie again as I found it over-commercialised and unnecessary. It was probably then, some five years later, that I began to consider what this commercialisation of such an important historical site actually meant for the preservation of the memory.

Image of Checkpoint Charlie in 2015, provided by and shown with the permission of Shannon Bent.

Presenting History as it was

I am what I guess you could call a ‘historical purist’ or ‘historical prescriptivist’. Basically, I believe in presenting historical fact in the purest form. Present it how you wish, in as many different forms as you wish; writing, TV, movies, plays, exhibitions, podcasts, the world is your oyster. Just make it accurate. None of this embellishment for dramatic effect. No need to change the facts to make it interesting. Trust me, present it right and the history will speak for itself. Now apply this logic to Checkpoint Charlie. You have the original signs each side of the street, making it clear to everyone standing there just how close capitalism and communism lived for the best part of 29 years. You have the booth where the soldiers would have stood, hour after hour, day after day, in freezing Berlin winters, patrolling a border that they themselves were probably affected by. Throw in a few photos of the wall, the roadblocks, the tanks and place them around they booth with a few well-written info plaques and hey presto, you have yourself a thought provoking, accurate historical site. You don’t need people dressed up, charging for tourists to have photos with them. You don’t need the visual of dressed up soldiers at all. 

Now you may be thinking ‘chill out. It’s just a bit of harmless tourist fun’. And yes, in a way it is. But here’s the way I look at it. Those soldiers they are impersonating were once real people, with real lives. In fact, the likelihood is they are still around today, perhaps even in that city. They had family, friends, lovers and enemies. They lived and breathed that city, that conflict, right off the back of the biggest war the world had ever seen. The wall went up practically overnight and the checkpoint followed. The men that had to work at that checkpoint perhaps lost family the other side of the wall or had to leave their life long friends behind. If you want to think about it in a darker manner, those soldiers being impersonated perhaps had to stop or even shoot people that were attempting to escape through the checkpoint, whether they agreed with the ethics of the wall or not. Some 136 people died between the years of 1961 and 1989 at the Berlin Wall. There are not clear numbers of how many of them were at the checkpoint in question. But chances are those soldiers had to perform violent acts that morally they were not at peace with. Do you think it is morally correct for people to then pretend to be these soldiers? I doubt it would sit well with the actors if they thought about it, and it would certainly baffle those that lived through the iron curtain.

Maybe that is more the point I am making. Perhaps I’m getting too hung up on the smaller intricacies of the topic. My overall point is this; people lived through the thing that is now being (badly, may I add) impersonated for money. I feel the concept to be a little weird and overall needless. There are many fantastic ways of presenting facts, of making history come to life that is accurate and respectful. And I am in no way against visual representation. There are some really good TV series and films that are as accurate as possible, for example Darkest Hour, Dunkirk, and the absolute masterpiece that was Peter Jackson’s They Shall Not Grow Old. Similarly, I have seen re-enactments, and what I believe is called in the business ‘costumed interpreters’ that have fantastic reproduction uniforms and costumes that provide a deeper and more visually impactful experience for the visitor. But it is done more tastefully, and with a far greater respect for the historical significance.

Recent History

There is also the question of this with regards to recent history. My parents vividly remember when the Berlin wall fell. I was born eight years later. My mum always says how when she was in school in the 1970s they didn’t teach history on the Second World War because it was too fresh and recent to make it a historical subject. While I don’t agree with that wholly, and do believe that it should be taught no matter how recent, there is a lot to be said for the way in which the topic is presented and what is respectable when there are still people living in that city that lived through a time when Checkpoint Charlie was actually operational. 

I do get angry when I think about all of this in context. When I was in Berlin last November, we were killing time before heading for food, and I said to my boyfriend ‘lets walk past Checkpoint Charlie, just so I can glare at it’. The people that are stood taking photos with the soldiers and instagramming it are entirely missing the point of, well, everything. It isn’t a place of remembrance and commemoration. To them, it’s a ‘how many likes can I get’ challenge, and the significance of the place goes right over so many people’s heads because it isn’t being presented in the right way. To me, it is beyond disrespectful. I guess you can only hope for change in the future. 

As I’m sure you can tell, this is a topic that I am very passionate about. Not just Checkpoint Charlie, but the overall controversial topic of how to present a museum, the commercial aspects of public history, and what is to be done when the topic in hand is sensitive. This series will seek to explore these different aspects of museum and heritage sites, using not only my knowledge but definitely my opinion, from the countless visits I have done to numerous places. Don’t worry, the whole thing won’t be me ranting consistently. I have some positive things to say too! I hope together we can explore and have a general discussion about this. If you love museums too, this is the place to be!

I hope you can come along with me on this exploration. Don’t hesitate to comment, feedback, and you could even email me for a chat about all this on s.k.bent@hotmail.co.uk. I would really love people to get involved in this. After all, history and museums are for us all! So don’t be shy! History is cool, and history is now.