Central Museum of the Danube Swabians, Ulm
Ever heard of the Danube-Swabians? It is fair to assume that quite a few Germans haven’t either. This story of emigration and identity, as well as alienation and hardship, may be obscure, but is nevertheless fascinating and remains an important part of German history spanning the 18th, 19th, and 20th centuries.
Why go there?
Don’t be intimidated by what may first appear to be a niche subject! The museum, which is within easy walking distance of the train station, will fill a rewarding morning or afternoon.
While Ulm is not a particular tourist hotspot, it is more than worth a trip. Perhaps best known as the birthplace of Albert Einstein, it offers insight into the Germany of today and of centuries past. The contrast between the imposing gothic Ulm Minster and the space-age glass pyramid of the Stadtbibliothek is particularly impressive. The twice-weekly market makes British farmers’ markets look like they aren’t really trying, and if it’s not market day you can walk along the banks of the Danube, the river at the heart of the Museum of the Danube Swabians.
If you want to tick off two wonderfully obscure museums in one day, we can recommend Ulm’s Museum der Brotkultur (Museum of Bread Culture). Don’t be deceived by the folksy name: this is an internationally recognised collection of art and artefacts that relate to bread and the problem of mass hunger. Alongside standard topics such as the medieval bakers’ guilds it addresses the politics of hunger in recessionary times (with art by Käthe Kollwitz and others) together with Hitler’s and Stalin’s abuse of the power to feed the nation.
The Museum of the Danube Swabians has obvious limitations for the British visitor, given that even the average German knows little about the narrative it tells. The display captions are in German and while a condensed English guide is available in leaflet form, it omits some of the most interesting details and personal stories. It might therefore be worth booking an English tours in advance. At the same time, the objects displayed here are so striking that you could do worse than just look at them. The colourful artefacts are reminiscent of something familiar, perhaps Victorian or Edwardian, yet are exotic and even slightly alien. Their eastern twist is not only visually appealing, but testifies to a fascinating blend of cultures in the Austro-Hungarian Empire at a time when people of different ethnic backgrounds co-existed relatively peacefully in the centre of the Europe.
What’s inside?
The museum tells a two-stranded story of migration: first, the emigration of Germans into Hungary and Eastern Europe in the 18th and 19th centuries and, second, their return to their ‘homeland’ at the end of WW2. A large map of Europe at the beginning of the exhibition presents plainly the sheer scale of the feat. The incredible journeys of the migrants, which were sometimes over 1,000 km long, invite comparisons with journeys made by today’s economic migrants. The time-span of the Danube Swabians’ tale also makes it of particular interest to those interested in the longer view of European history: the narrative encompasses the Habsburg Empire, the Second World War, and the post-war Federal Republic.
A positive side to cultural diversity emerges clearly from the exhibition: bilingual information in German and Hungarian, alongside a surprisingly endearing tale of child ‘swaps’, offer evidence of cohesive communities that thrived through their differences. The colourful and unusual objects also reveal more ambivalent aspects of diaspora: treasured possessions can become markers of ‘otherness’ in a new country. Driven from the East by the Red Army in 1944-45, the Danube-Swabians suffered devastating loss of life on their arduous journey to the relative safety of Germany and the museum is valiant in its efforts to preserve the memory of this suffering. It is perhaps the less obvious consequences of displacement (for instance the contribution of immigrants to Germany’s Economic Miracle) that are now the most relevant lessons for British audiences and beyond. You might not share the museum’s idealism about Europe’s common heritage, but it’s certainly a different perspective from the current UK view of Eastern Europe.
German History Museums 