Where Did Our Love Go?

As the Love Parade fades, you can't help but wonder if the "New Berlin" is fading with it

About half a million ravers showed up for the Love Parade this year. In other words, about half as many as last year. What happened? Some blame reports that the world's largest techno party would be targeted for a terrorist attack; but well ahead of time, the police had debunked those stories. More likely, after 13 years, the novelty of throwing on day-glo duds and then throwing oneself into the masses throbbing through Berlin's central park has simply worn off (Chill und Out für die Loveparade).

With that novelty, the "New" in the "New Berlin" may be wearing thin as well. As it happens, the Love Parade and the "New Berlin" were born all but simultaneously so it's little wonder that, as brands, they've more or less fed off each other. In the summer of 1989, about 150 people danced up and down the Ku'damm, what was then West Berlin's premiere promenade, lined with cafés and storefront windows gleaming with the best capitalism had to offer. A few months later, the Wall fell, so the following summer, there was one helluva reason to celebrate, and 2000 people leapt right in. That number tripled the following year, more than doubled again in 1992, doubled again in '93 -- and quadrupled in '94: 120,000 people gathered under the slogan, "The spirit makes you move."

1995, Christo wraps the Reichstag and the government is leaving Bonn for the big, reunited city. Half a million ravers. 1998, the Kohl government is voted out after 16 years in office and an unprecedented governing coalition of Social Democrats and Greens begins moving into brand spanking new offices. The new chancellor promises a new dawn for a "New Center" in a "Berliner Republic." No one really knows what that's supposed to mean, but before his first round of troubles (the finance minister resigns, Germany joins NATO's bombing of Serbia), the chancellor looks ready to all but will this "Berliner Republic" of his into being.

By the following summer, great swaths of the urban landscape have been renewed, including Potsdamer Platz, which for years had been Europe's largest construction site. Like some pop star, the "New Berlin" is appearing on the cover of a zillion magazines and is given the special feature treatment by the likes of the New York Times and Wired. 1.5 million Love Paraders truly partied like it was 1999; never had so many before, and never would so many again.

2002, and most of the cranes that had been the symbol of some vague yet undeniably dynamic hope have been taken down. The persistent noise of hammering and drilling, that ambience of ongoing change, has gone quiet. The packs of journalists that hounded every parliamentarian's every move have dwindled. Businesses never came, deciding to stick to their HQs in richer states. Berlin groans under the weight of almost unfathomable debt.

What a party it was. And what a morning after.

Elsewhere

Oliver Morton explains in the August issue of Wired why Europe is building its own global positioning system. In Wired News, Elisa Batista deciphers European SMS text messages.

NPR has an excellent series of reports on what the world owes Fritz Haber: Enough food to eat on the one hand; chemical warfare, on the other.

Three noteworthy pieces this week in the New York Times: The fall of European telecoms, the EU's agricultural makeover and a run-in between US and German intelligence over the 9/11 investigation.