If Interior Minister Roman Poseck’s post-Giessen analysis accomplishes anything, it’s reminding us that German protest culture occasionally likes to cosplay its own history. And not the charming parts. No—somewhere between the vegan food trucks and the cardboard anti-AfD signs, a fraction of demonstrators apparently decided it was time for a retro revival of 1980s Startbahn West Street-Fight Chic.
Because what unfolded in Giessen wasn’t the heart-warming civic engagement politicians love to praise in Sunday speeches. It was more like someone found an old protest manual labeled “Eskalation for Beginners, 1983 Edition” and said, “Let’s give this a spin!”
Just as in the Startbahn era—when police officers were greeted with stones, Molotov cocktails and other expressions of unsolicited public affection—a small but remarkably energetic crowd of would-be revolutionaries tried to hijack an otherwise peaceful demonstration. About 1,000 violence-inclined individuals among 25,000 protesters: statistically tiny, operationally significant, and historically nostalgic.
Poseck, unsurprisingly, is not a fan. And on this point, he is entirely correct. Without a massive police presence, the whole thing might have escalated faster than you can say “autonomes Zentrum.” More than 50 officers were injured—by stones, kicks, or the ever-popular tactic of using one’s body as a projectile. Those who attack police officers aren’t simply assaulting individuals; they are attacking one of the last structural supports preventing a demonstration from turning into a live-action reboot of Mad Max: Giessen Drift.
Naturally, the minister’s critics will fret about the use of police force, as if assembling blockades, masking up, and harassing emergency workers were just quirky forms of democratic expression. But democracy is not a buffet where one picks the laws one personally vibes with. Either the rule of law applies universally, or we are all just improvising societal norms on the fly—and spoiler: that hasn’t gone well historically.
Yes, most demonstrators were peaceful. Absolutely. The same was true in the 1980s—right up until the violent minority took center stage and the headlines wrote themselves. Today’s militant fringe seems keen on repeating that pattern: not only criticizing political opponents but physically preventing them from exercising political rights. That is not “defending democracy”; it is auditioning for its demolition.
Poseck is therefore right to sound the alarm. When protests slide into systematic law-breaking, it is the extremists—left or right—who benefit. Violence against political actors remains a taboo, even (and especially) when the target is the AfD.
The Giessen police operation was expensive, exhausting, and—let’s be honest—probably ruined many officers’ weekend plans. But it was necessary, effective, and prevented a full-scale regression into Startbahn-style mayhem. Back then, people died, and trust in the state took a serious hit. Nobody needs a sequel.
So, if history teaches us anything, it’s this: Peaceful protest is a democratic right. Violence is not. And when a few individuals try to relive the militant nostalgia of the 80s, the police deserve not suspicion, but a thank-you card. Or at least fewer stones thrown at their heads.
