New Insights Into Queer Life in Divided Berlin

Berlin is often regarded as a hotspot of Germany’s queer movement—both today and in the 1920s. But what did life look like in the postwar era? History books have long documented the criminalization of gay men under Paragraph 175 up to 1969 in West Germany, and the later “sexual revolution” of the 1970s and 1980s across both German states. Beyond these narratives, there are numerous stories about queer nightlife in the divided city. Yet how accurately do the myths of Berlin as a “queer El Dorado” reflect the lived experiences of queer people in the former frontier city? And how did queer life organize itself beyond bars and discotheques in other spaces?
This question is addressed by historian Andrea Rottmann in her dissertation “Queer Home Berlin? Making Queer Selves and Spaces in the Divided City, 1945-1970,” which has now been translated into German and published under the title “Bedrohtes Begehren” (Amazon Affiliate Link) as a book. The E‑Book is even available for free download.

A Focus on Lesbian Life

Through painstaking archival work, Rottmann examines the subjectivities and spaces of queer Berlin from the end of the Nazi era to the beginnings of the gay and lesbian movements in the early 1970s. She emphasizes the many gaps and uncertainties that still exist in the record of queer life and seeks to contribute, through her research, to illuminating these areas.
Right from the introduction, it becomes clear that the author has engaged with a broad field and has tried to incorporate a wide range of sources into her research. Since historical research on queer life has traditionally ignored and underrepresented the experiences of lesbian and transgender people, Rottmann prioritizes these in order to offset the imbalance.
In particular, she foregrounds the entanglements of identity markers—gender, sexuality, and class—in order to understand more precisely “how the two German postwar states and societies dealt with non-normative embodiments of gender and sexuality and what exclusion processes were at work in constructing East and West German gender and sexuality norms.” By considering queer everyday history—exploring both the pleasures and the dangers of queer life in divided Berlin—she traces a political history of belonging and exclusion.

An Important Look Back

The sheer variety of realities and spaces that Rottmann analyzes is striking: from the living arrangements of queer people (Chapter 1: “Home”) to queer bars and nightclubs (Chapter 2: “Vulnerable Sociability: Queer Bars”), then to the city’s public streets and parks (Chapter 3: Public Spaces: Passages, Transitions, Border-Crossings), and finally to the specific space of the prison (Chapter 4: “Behind Bars: Prisons as Queer Spaces”). In each space, the book highlights both the possibilities for queer life and the potential hazards, harassment, and criminalization that could confront people there.
Rottmann draws on feminist and queer archives for her research, but also relies on many official state sources. The historical imbalance in scholarship between lesbian and gay life in Berlin, as well as between West and East Germany, is further underscored in her work, even though she makes a deliberate effort to elevate female and East German voices. This commitment is, in part, a response to the reality that some East German sources remain inaccessible more than 30 years after reunification.
A Small but Important Contribution to Queer History
Thus, Rottmann’s book should be understood as a small but crucial contribution to the broader “Black Box” of Berlin’s queer life, providing a notably important piece of the puzzle. She is acutely aware of the diverse political influences that shaped queer life over the past century and uses her nuanced approach to illuminate both the common ground and the differences between queer life in East and West Berlin.
Even as the work strives for gender-inclusive language, the fact that it originates from a dissertation helps explain the occasionally academic tone that can disrupt the flow for some readers. Overall, the book can serve as a bridge between historical scholarship and a broader public interest in Berlin’s queer life.
Rottmann closes with a look at the present, where she identifies increasing hostility toward nonconforming life realities. With the knowledge of past criminalization and harassment of queer life, she ends with a call to continue fighting for a diverse and open society today.