HAMBURG — German history teachers have shared their experience dealing with topics like the Holocaust, the Nazi regime, intolerance and antisemitism in a time where many ghosts from the past seem to be back, lingering over Germany and other Western democracies.
Here are the accounts of four teachers in an article published by German weekly Die Zeit.
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Quiet students lean AfD
Nikolai Häußermann, 41, was history teacher at Friedrich-Schiller-Gymnasium in Marbach, Baden-Württemberg, until a few months ago. He is now a consultant to the Ministry of Culture.
Over the last three to four years, I’ve noticed a significant shift in my classes. The students who were once outspoken and eager — those involved in movements like Fridays for Future — have suddenly gone quiet. When I bring up discussions, like support for Ukraine, it often feels like I’m talking to a brick wall.
The lively debates we used to have just a few years ago are becoming a rare occurrence. At the same time, the quieter students have started voicing support for the AfD. Some students argue against supporting Ukraine, claiming they fear being dragged into a conflict or the potential return of conscription.
While they don’t openly support AfD, they express empathy for those who do.
One even said, “It’s no surprise people are voting for the AfD; they’re clearly against aid for Ukraine.” The fact that some of the party’s politicians may be under Russian President Vladimir Putin’s thumb seems irrelevant to them. While they don’t openly support the AfD, they express empathy for those who do, especially among young voters.
These students aren’t apolitical, but they shy away from long-term involvement in political parties or institutions. The notion that democracy involves building coalitions, making compromises, and enduring a messy, frustrating — but essential — process seems increasingly alien to them. That worries me. Many seem to view democracy as endless arguing with no real results, and that’s a dangerous perception.
One student said Jews invented cigarettes to get Muslims hooked
Lea Honoré, 40, is a history teacher in Berlin and chair of the Association of History Teachers, also in Berlin.
For years, I taught at a secondary school where most of the students came from families of Turkish origin. Unfortunately, we barely get enough time to cover history properly — just one hour a week in Berlin schools. This time has been cut in favor of additional ethics and politics lessons. Trying to teach the Holocaust in one hour a week feels like trying to fill a bucket with a teaspoon.
In Berlin’s secondary schools, history isn’t even a standalone subject anymore; it’s lumped together with politics and geography under the umbrella of social sciences. In most other federal states, there are more history lessons. That’s why, even before the Oct. 7 Hamas attack, we’d sent an open letter to the Senator for Education urging the reinstatement of additional history hours. What’s happened since has only underscored how vital this is.
I’ve never heard outright Holocaust denial in class, but I’ve certainly encountered disturbing comments, like “It’s not so bad that the Jews were killed.” These remarks aren’t shouted across the room but whispered to a neighbor.
When I confront students about these views, they often say they’re influenced by current politics and dislike Israeli policies. To tackle these views, you need time and trust — a connection with the students — and that’s something you can’t build in a single hour a week
Much of the antisemitism I see stems from ignorance and inherited prejudice.
Much of the anti-Semitism I see stems from ignorance and inherited prejudice. Family narratives are passed down uncritically. For example, one student once claimed that Jews invented cigarettes to get Muslims addicted to nicotine.
Still, there are moments that reaffirm why this work matters. During a year-long elective history project, students chose to sponsor a “stumbling stone” (stolperstein) near our school to commemorate Max Katz, a young man who lived there and took his own life in 1941, just before the Nazis could deport him. He was only 20 years old.
At first, one student flatly refused to clean the stumbling stone, saying, “I’m not bowing down to Jews,” citing Israeli politics as his justification. But everything changed when we visited Katz’s hometown, Guxhagen, a small village near Kassel.
It was clear most of my students had never set foot in a town where Muslim people were a rarity. They learned about the once-thriving Jewish community that was wiped out, and how Katz’s family moved to Berlin, likely trying to hide.
The students held a memorial at the remains of the Guxhagen synagogue and presented their project work. By the end of 2018, we raised enough funds to lay a gravestone for Katz at the Jewish cemetery in Berlin. Rabbi Andreas Nachama consecrated the stone at a ceremony where my students — Muslim kids — sang Yiddish songs alongside the rabbi’s prayers. Even the student who initially refused to bend down for Jews joined in.
Through this project, they connected Katz’s story to their own lives. It’s proof that, given the opportunity to learn, students can become deeply engaged and are willing to grapple with the Holocaust.
Parroted from TikTok videos
This 32-year-old history teacher at a technical college in Augsburg requested anonymity.
I’ve noticed a chilling trend: right-wing and populist views are being expressed more openly in the classroom. This wasn’t the case 14 years ago when I was a student myself. It’s unsettling to hear 17- and 18-year-olds claim life under National Socialism had its “good sides.”
Two years ago, a student asked, “Why is it always about the Germans? Stalin was a mass murderer too.” I explained that Stalin would be covered in the following semester and emphasized that while today’s students aren’t responsible for what happened under National Socialism, understanding it is vital to recognizing and resisting similar patterns. That student eventually began contributing more thoughtfully to discussions, which gave me some hope.
Most of my students, many of whom have migrant backgrounds, strongly support democracy and understand its importance. But the war in the Middle East has added a layer of complexity.
I occasionally catch a mocking smile that leaves me deeply concerned
Students with left-leaning views often respond to discussions about the Holocaust with “And what about the Palestinians?” At times, it feels like an attempt to deflect from the topic. Still, I believe it’s crucial to address these concerns without sidestepping the main issue. I help them see that terms like “war crimes” and “genocide” aren’t interchangeable, or to be thrown around lightly.
Many of these opinions are parroted from TikTok videos, political speeches, or their immediate social circles. When I encounter questionable statements, I challenge the students to examine where their information is coming from. While this sometimes changes their perspective, I occasionally catch a mocking smile that leaves me deeply concerned. Some students’ values seem to have already drifted dangerously far.
As a teacher sworn to uphold the Constitution, I see it as my duty to counteract extremist positions. But with only two hours a week to combat the onslaught of fake news and oversimplified narratives, it can feel like an uphill battle.
A video that traces the path to the gas chambers
Alexander Kahmann, 47, is a history and English teacher at a high school in Schleswig-Holstein.
History used to be all about memorizing dates and events. Now, it’s about critical thinking — drawing connections to the present and asking: What does this era have to do with us? What parallels and differences can we find?
When teaching about National Socialism, the relevance is painfully clear. Take the rise of the AfD, for instance. When some of its politicians talk about “remigration,” my students initially see the term as technical or neutral, like something from a textbook.
Only after analyzing it do they realize it’s about deporting people who’ve lived in Germany for generations simply because they have non-German ancestry.
To engage students beyond the typical history buffs, I sometimes show a short Terra X film. It combines original footage with 3D recreations of Auschwitz, allowing viewers to walk the path from the train ramp to the gas chambers. It’s not about shocking them but helping them understand both cognitively and emotionally. The classroom often falls silent after watching.
Even bright students sometimes fall back on troubling clichés.
I try to create space for open, honest conversations, even if it means asking provocative questions. For example, I’ll say: “Didn’t the Nazis bring some good to Germany?” This prompts students to mention things like building highways or fighting unemployment. Together, we analyze the data to uncover the reality: These policies were geared entirely toward preparing for war.
When discussing the roots of antisemitism, even bright students sometimes fall back on troubling clichés, like “Myths always have a kernel of truth.” We then trace these beliefs back to their origins in the Middle Ages, exposing the stereotypes, myths (such as the blood libel) and how baseless and harmful they have been.
Teaching history isn’t just about facts; it’s about dismantling these narratives to prevent extremism. That’s what keeps me going as a teacher.
