A Visit to the German Bundestag
As soon as we booked our flight tickets to Berlin, I immediately made a reservation for our visit to the Reichstag, Germany’s parliament building. While visiting a national parliament may not be the top of the list for most vacationers, I urge all fellow travelers to make an exception for the Reichstag. Most visitors may not be interested in the inner workings of the German parliament, but the Reichstag’s unique rooftop glass dome attracts more than three million visitors a year, making it the most visited parliament in the world and the second most visited landmark in all of Germany.
As a practicing architect, I have long had the Reichstag on my travel bucket list. It is one of the most famous cases of adaptive reuse of a civic structure. That said, what made this building so worthy of visiting is its history. For anyone interested in the 20th-century history of Europe, few buildings are as historically significant as the Reichstag Building. It is inimitably linked to many of the most pivotal events in European history, from the unification of German-speaking states to the end of the Cold War. No matter your interests, this is one of the most all-around fascinating buildings in the world.
To visit the Reichstag, visitors should visit the official website of the parliament, Bundestag. There are two options, one for visiting the glass dome only and the other for a guided tour of the building interiors with access to the dome at the end. Given its popularity, visitors should book their timed reservation at least a couple of weeks in advance. While walk-up tickets are theoretically available, it is usually booked out solid. I recommend reserving a guided tour in English, even though the schedule is subject to last-minute change due to parliamentary activities.
Before visiting the Reichstag, I stopped by the Brandenburg Gate, the preeminent symbol of Berlin. This gate was the ceremonial gateway when Berlin was the capital of the Kingdom of Prussia. It marked the axis connecting the Palace of Berlin and the old capital of Brandenburg. Keen observers would notice that the Reichstag is technically located just outside the city center. When the parliament was looking for a new home, both Emperor Wilhelm I and Chancellor Otto von Bismarck were keen to push the parliament far away from the Imperial Palace. In response, the parliamentary leaders oriented its ceremonial entrance toward the west, away from the imperial palace.
The parliament hosted two design competitions for a new building in 1872 and 1882. Eventually, the commission was awarded to Paul Wallot. His eclectic design combines elements of several architectural styles and is rich in symbolism. The four corner towers represent four constituent kingdoms of the German Empire: Prussia, Bavaria, Saxony, and Württemberg. The Reichstag was a state-of-the-art building with its own power plant, modern lighting, thermostats, and electrical fans. Crowning the building was an innovative rectangular dome made of steel and glass. While most of us today would regard it as a magnificent building, the design was met with criticism by both the traditionalists and the modernists.
As the most visited parliament building, the Reichstag is a well-oiled machine when it comes to visitor services. Tours for the dome leave every fifteen minutes, and visitors are processed efficiently, as you would expect in Germany. Our guided tour, Christopher, was led by an elderly gentleman who had a deep passion for Germany’s constitutional democracy. We visited the Capitol in Washington and Ottawa in the last few years; the guides/docents were all enthusiastic teenagers regurgitating facts and figures they learned in the orientation. Christopher, on the other hand, has an encyclopedic knowledge of German history. It was clear that he took on this position purely out of passion.
While most visitors are most interested in the tumultuous history of this building, it is also incumbent on us to learn about the functioning of Germany’s constitutional system. The first thing Christopher wanted to clear up was the two often-confused terms: Reichstag and the Bundestag. The Reichstag refers to the historical building, and the Bundestag refers to the lower house of the German Parliament. Although the two terms may be synonymous nowadays, the building’s tragic history forced the Bundestag to meet elsewhere, sometimes for decades at a time.
The most pivotal event associated with the Reichstag took place on the night of February 27, 1933. A fire was reported around 9 pm., and the building was entirely engulfed by the time fire companies arrived on the scene. Even though the fire was put out before midnight, the interiors were totally gutted. Adolf Hitler, the Chancellor of Germany at the time, raced to the building with Joseph Goebbels and Hermann Göring. Hitler immediately proclaimed that the Bolsheviks perpetrated the fire and labeled it as an act of terrorism. A suspect was apprehended on the scene, and he turned out to be a young Dutch communist, Marinus van der Lubbe.
Hitler was quick to capitalize on the dramatic event to declare a national emergency. Although Lubbe claimed sole responsibility for the fire, Hitler attributes the arson to the works of Communist agitators whose ultimate goal was to overthrow the German government. The following day, he convinced German President Paul von Hindenburg to issue the Reichstag Fire Decree, in which the civil rights of German citizens could be suspended. The duly elected Communist Party MPs were suspended, allowing the Nazi Party to extend its grip on the parliament. The Burning of the Reichstag has become a phrase representing an abuse of power in the wake of a national tragedy. A similar comparison has been made to the passage of the USA PATRIOT Act in the aftermath of the September 11th attacks.
Although scholars agree that Marinus van der Lubbe was responsible for the fire, many suspect the fire was not possible without coordination and accomplices. Given how swift the Nazis responded with a sweeping decree, the opposition believed the fire was a false flag attack to justify the one-party rule by the Nazis. The fire took place only a week before the 1933 election, so it is natural to speculate that the undercover Nazi agents might have secretly aided Lubbe. On display in the Reichstag is a section of a historical tunnel from which Lubbe allegedly entered. In light of the hasty trials by the Nazis, he was posthumously pardoned in 2008.
After the fire, the Nazi-controlled parliament transformed into a one-party rule with the passage of the Enabling Act of 1933. The rubber-stamp legislature was relocated to the Kroll Opera House across the square. It was from there that Hitler delivered some of his most incendiary speeches, including the call for “annihilation of the Jewish race in Europe.” During this period, the Reichstag building was not fully restored and was instead used for various purposes, including a medical facility and an electrical equipment factory.
As Nazi Germany struggled in a two-front war with the Allies, the Reichstag buildings were fortified and windows bricked up. As the Soviet troops fought street by street into Berlin, the Nazi leadership, including Hitler and Goebbels, went underground into a fortified bunker under the Reich Chancellery. However, the Soviet generals were unaware of Hitler’s whereabouts and set their ultimate prize on the Reichstag because of its symbolic value. Because the Reichstag building was built with heavy masonry and made a natural fortress, a large contingent of German soldiers was stationed at the building, and it was hand-to-hand combat to the last room. The final battle of the European theater was fought at the Reichstag.
The storming of the Reichstag had attained legendary status in the Soviet Union and modern Russia. The victory was made famous by a photograph taken by Yevgeny Khaldei. It depicts two soldiers planting a Soviet flag on the roof of the Reichstag. It was the single most iconic picture of the Battle of Berlin and was reproduced worldwide. Unbeknownst to most, the photo was actually staged a day after the fall of Berlin. The flag in the photograph was brought from home by Khaldei and allegedly sawn by his Jewish acquaintance back in Moscow.
When I was in Moscow in 2011, I paid a visit to the Museum of the Great Patriotic War. I vividly remember a diorama of the Battle of Battle, especially the siege of the Reichstag. The diorama was part fiction and served as a form of Soviet propaganda. Now that I have the time to look back at my photograph from Moscow, I can better appreciate the meaning of the diorama to both the German and Soviet public. With over a million casualties, the Battle of Berlin is the third deadliest urban combat in Europe.
At the foyer, Christopher pointed out a model of the neighborhood around the Reichstag. It was striking how few historical buildings survived the war. A rare exception was the Swiss Embassy, which appeared so isolated from the rest of the city. The scale of destruction was unimaginable. During the final days of the war, Hitler ordered all food supplies and transport links into Berlin to be severed. Hitler’s “let Berlin burn” approach to the war was a chilling and perhaps fitting end to the Nazi regime.
The most interesting section of the Reichstag is a grand hallway in the northern section of the building. During the renovation in the 1990s, the construction crew uncovered numerous Cyrillic graffiti concealed by plaster from an earlier restoration in the 1960s. These graffiti were by the Soviet soldiers to commemorate their victory. According to the old photograph taken shortly after the wall, just about every inch of the Reichstag was covered in Soviet graffiti. Evidently, many soldiers mistook the building for the Reich Chancellery a few blocks away. While most of these markings consist of the names of soldiers and their hometowns, a few include more pointed messages, such as 'Death of Germans'.
While the most racist and sexist graffiti were documented and then removed in consultation with the Russian embassy, the rest were preserved in situ as a remembrance of the past. One of the most poignant graffiti reads: “This is for Leningrad.” The fate of Berlin was as tragic as what Germany did to Soviet cities like Leningrad and Stalingrad. So why would Germany actively preserve a relic of national defeat in the hall of their parliament? I believe it is an active reminder for German politicians to exercise their political power responsibly. Political extremism might ultimately lead to a nation’s demise.
The graffiti at the Reichstag reminded me of a recent Oval Office conversation between American President Donald Trump and the German Chancellor Friedrich Merz, in which Trump jokingly told Mertz that D-Day was not a pleasant day for Germany. As somebody ignorant of history and contemporary politics, Trump thought such a dig would either humiliate or intimidate his German counterpart. Instead, the chancellor gave a brilliant response by phrasing the Normandy landings as the first step toward liberating Germany from Nazism. Such a response and framing were absolutely brilliant, and it crystallized how Germany approached its horrific history.
As someone who has never lived in the southern United States, I often puzzled as to why the South did not adopt such a narrative. Rather than insisting on the cause of the Civil War being the matter of states’ rights of self-determination, wouldn’t it be just graceful to advocate that the Civil War help the South to liberate itself from the historical shackle of slavery? Unlike its Axis ally Japan, Germany has been the most thoughtful in terms of reflecting on its past and actively guarding against going down the same dark path. With right-wing populism on the rise all across the West, the German experiences are more important than ever before.
After the war, Germany was de facto partitioned into the Soviet-backed German Democratic Republic in the east and the Western-backed Federal Republic of Germany. With its capital in East Berlin, East Germany had its legislature built on the site of the former imperial palace. West Germany has its capital and the Bundestag in Bonn. The Reichstag building is located within West Berlin, literally along the Berlin Wall. The Reichstag became a physical symbol of political division. During the division, the building was left in a ruinous state until a renovation in 1970. The damaged square dome was demolished, and most decorations on the buildings were removed. The structure was sparingly used during the Cold War, as West Germany agreed not to establish its capital in West Berlin.
In 1990, the Reichstag became a one-off venue for the first session of the Bundestag of a reunified Germany. However, Bonn remained the official seat of the unified parliament. The discussion as to whether to move the Bundestag back to Berlin was unusually contentious. The decision was finalized after a close vote of 338 to 320. The resolution decided that the Bundestag would once again take its seat in the Reichstag building to symbolize the return of a reunified Germany. An extensive renovation/rebuilding project was necessary to accommodate the Bundestag. Today, four seats of the Bundestag at Bonn were on exhibit at the Reichstag building. They were the only artifacts from that chapter of Bundestag's history.
After an international competition, the Bundestag awarded the commission to British architect Norman Foster. Since so much of the original architecture and decorations were either destroyed in the world or lost during the 1970 renovation, Foster proposed a new modern building within the exterior shell of the Reichstag. Before the renovation, the building had an artistic send-off in 1995: Wrapped Reichstag, Project for Berlin. Bulgarian-American artists Christo and Jeanne-Claude created an environmental art by wrapping the building in 24 acres of silver fabric. The project is sometimes regarded as one of the most spectacular public art pieces of the 20th century. Five million visitors came to see this fantastic work during its two-week existence. The piece is a symbol of the Reichstag’s and Germany’s rebirth.
After the wrapping was removed, massive demolition and construction began. The new Reichstag is decidedly modern on the inside, and it epitomizes architectural “facadism.” The building's interior is characterized by clean lines and large windows. Yet, it was punctuated with historical remnants and decorations. The ultramodern interiors are accented with numerous commissioned artworks. According to Christopher, the Bundestag only collects modern and contemporary art, which is quite unusual for a national parliament in a country with a rich cultural heritage. I don’t believe there is any artwork or decoration that dates back to Prussian times or earlier.
The most significant public art on display was created by artists from France, the United States, Great Britain, and Russia. Once again, Germany was keen to acknowledge the necessary pain of post-war divisions by highlighting works from the four foreign powers that occupied post-war Germany. During our guided tour, we had the opportunity to see two of these pieces. The first one was a tall pillar fitted with LED light strips at the north entrance lobby. Designed by American artist Jenny Holzer, the pillar’s four faces display some of the most famous speeches delivered in the Bundestag. The text moved from the bottom up toward the ceiling, signifying that political speech is the pillar of representative democracy.
The most intriguing public art was by French artist Christian Boltanski. Aptly titled "Archive of German Members of Parliament," this work is composed of five thousand metal boxes bearing the names of all democratically elected members from 1919 to 1999, excluding those from the East German legislature voted in with one-party rule. Appearing like a brick wall from afar, the artwork alludes to the legislators as the building block of democracy. Those murdered by the Nazi and Soviet regimes were commemorated with a black band under their name tag. A singular black box represents all the years Germany was deprived of democracy.
Our group took a quick detour through an underground tunnel to the Paul Loebe Building. Named after the president of the Bundestag during the Weimar period, this impressive glass and concrete building is home to the offices and committee rooms of the parliament. Although the Reichstag building looks imposing on the exterior, its interior footprint is actually more limited. The parliamentarians had already been complaining about the lack of office space shortly after the building's inauguration in 1894. This impressive building is organized around a massive atrium and a series of internal balconies. The architecture is seemingly purpose-built for Volkswagen commercials or a backdrop for Sci-Fi films. Christopher spends some time explaining the legislative mechanism of the Bundestag. Like the Congress of the United States or the Parliament of Canada, the majority of legislative details were worked out in the committees. The main plenary chamber is more reserved for great oratory.
Across the River Spree is another parliamentary building, the Marie-Elisabeth-Lüders House, named after a famous advocate for women’s rights. It houses the parliamentary library and a research institute. Designed by Munich-based architect Stephan Braunfels, the twin parliamentary buildings are connected by a two-level footbridge, one for the public and the other reserved for parliamentary staff. The two buildings are perfectly aligned with each other and the Federal Chancellery, the office and residence of the Chancellor. They form a “federal ribbon”, which is an architectural expression of the federal government of Germany. Interestingly, the Federal Court of Justice, the country’s court of last resort, is located on the other side of the country. The judiciary branch is purposefully located away from the political center to highlight judicial independence.
Compared to the American capital, the government quarter in Berlin is an enjoyable place to visit. There are plenty of shades and places to sit and people watch. The National Mall in Washington is monumental, fitting for a grand empire rather than an egalitarian democracy. Aside from the Reichstag building, the architecture of the rest of the government complex in Berlin emphasizes transparency and modernity. More importantly, the presence of security apparatus was sparse, which is surprising given the country's global importance as the largest economy in Europe. Dare I say it is the most accessible capital in the world?
Although the Reichstag’s biggest draw is the glass dome by Norman Foster, the highlight of the tour for me was undoubtedly the plenary chamber of the Bundestag. Before entering the chamber, we had the opportunity to visit the upper gallery, which was typically reserved for the members when the parliament is in session. The plenary chamber is located at the geometric center of the building and sits directly below the central glass dome, which fills the interior with an abundance of natural light.
In his original design submissions in 1882, Paul Wallot initially placed the square glass cupola above the old plenary chamber. However, the trade union responsible for the construction forced a redesign and moved the cupola to the entrance vestibule. Wallot’s original dome was an architectural and engineering masterpiece of its time. It was only fitting that Norman Foster was able to realize Wallot’s original vision more than a century later. The result is a stunningly airy chamber that is among the most beautiful in the world.
Since the chamber is located at the center of the building, no vestige of the original Reichstag chamber survived. Instead, the chamber is constructed of sleek concrete, steel, and glass. The most recognizable feature, however, would be the color of the seats: a unique blue with a hint of purple. The architect originally proposed the seats to be in gray, but was quipped by members as drab, given the color palette of the architecture. On the advice of Danish designer Per Arnoldi, the blue was adopted due to its calming effect. Blue was also considered politically neutral, as no major parties at the time had blue as their color. The colors became tremendously popular among the German public and the political class. Norman Foster ended up painting it as "Reichstag blue.” Former Chancellor Angela Merkel often wears the same shade of blue on foreign visits.
Having seen this chamber on news footage all my life, I had to pinch myself standing in the public gallery. Like most legislative bodies, the seats were assigned according to the partisan spectrum. The seats are physically rearranged based on the outcomes of each parliamentary election. At the front are the seats for the President and Vice President of the Bundestag. To the left are seats reserved for members of the federal government. The seats to the right are for members of the Bundesrat, the upper house of the parliament. Very similar to the 19th-century United States Senate, the Bundesrat consisted of members appointed by the federal state government, not directly elected by the people. Similar to the University Senate, that body also gives greater representation for smaller states and free cities. Although the Bundesrat had its own building, its members would occasionally attend Bundestag sessions but did not participate in the debates.
Dominating the plenary chamber is a giant steel eagle hanging above the president’s chairs. The eagle is Germany’s federal coat of arms. Unusually, each of Germany’s federal institutions, from the Bundestag, Bundesrat, the President, to the Federal Constitutional Court, has its own version of the “federal eagle.” These variations were designed during the Weimar period. The eagle of the Bundestag was designed by the expressionist artist Ludwig Gies in 1953. Nicknamed the “Fat Hen,” the chunky eagle is particularly famous. According to the New York Times, the plump bird symbolizes the return of prosperity in post-war Germany. Some also suggest it is a sarcastic criticism of the self-aggrandizing politicians.
When Norman Foster redesigned the Reichstag, he couldn’t help but redesign the Fat Hen. The revised eagle is slimmer and looks far more “fierce” than the previous iteration. By then, Ludwig Gies had already passed away, and his heirs held the copyrights to his eagle, objecting to Foster’s redesign. To placate their star architect, the Bundestag came up with an ingenious solution by hanging Foster’s slimmer eagle on the backside of the original. Since it was a glass curtain wall in the back, the architect’s creation could still be appreciated by the public.
Our guided tour concluded at a special elevator that transported us to the rooftop dome. We were immediately inundated with tourists. It is apparent that nine out of ten visitors to the Reichstag only visit the rooftop dome. That said, the Reichstag does an excellent job of handling the throngs of visitors. From the elevator lobby, visitors could pick up a convenient audio guide. From the get-go, the glass dome was intended to be a popular attraction among the public. By incorporating a free and accessible observation platform, Germany makes the bet that the public will be more connected to its political institutions. Even if most visitors were there for selfies, they might also learn a thing or two about the country’s constitutional democracy.
Designed by Foster, the glass dome not only pays tribute to the original dome by Paul Wallot, but it is also steeped in political symbolism. A cone of mirrors is suspended from the roof and designed to reflect natural light down to the plenary chamber below. More importantly, the mirror surfaces provide sight lines between the public and the legislature below. For decades, Germany had been led astray by their manipulating politicians. Symbolically, the Germans could keep a close eye on their legislators. Ultimately, an open and honest engagement in political conversations is the best way to guard against political extremes.
The glass dome is equipped with double helix ramps that lead visitors up to the observation platform at the top. The audio guide automatically narrates the history of the building and the various Berlin landmarks around us. The glass dome is one of the greatest architectural triumphs of the 20th century. Twenty-five years on, the engineering of this dome still leaves visitors in awe. By allowing natural light to penetrate the center of the building, the revitalized Reichstag was a pioneer for sustainability. The Reichstag is also the world’s first national parliament that runs entirely on green energy.
Although the Reichstag dome is Norman Foster’s most celebrated design, Foster's initial proposal was to place the entire Reichstag building under a giant parasol roof. The original designs resemble placing the building under a massive airplane hangar. The idea of a glass dome with helix ramps was actually proposed in 1988 by German architect Gottfried Böhm. After intense lobbying from the Bundestag, Foster reluctantly accepted the central dome into his revised design. Weighing over a thousand tons, the dome is supported by twenty-four vertical ribs. The design also pays homage to the Pantheon in Rome, with a tension ring and an oculus at the top. The oculus allows the intense summer heat to escape and provides the much-needed ventilation.
I was surprised to learn that there is actually no air conditioning system inside the glass dome. As Berlin’s summer heat becomes increasingly oppressive, there may be a last-minute closure during a heat wave. To minimize the greenhouse effect, the architect actually devised a massive brise-soleil inside the dome. It rotates along the path of the sun without obstructing the view from both the exterior and the interior. In hindsight, I should have made a separate reservation for an evening visit. The spiral ramps are particularly striking at night. A helpful tip for anyone who was unable to secure a spot for dome access is to make a reservation at the Reichstag’s rooftop restaurant.
Given Germany’s turbulent recent history, there is no shortage of memorials in the immediate vicinity of the Reichstag. One could easily make it a half-day tour to visit and learn about all the memorials. The most noteworthy memorial is a series of cast-iron plates next to the temporary visitor processing center. This memorial was created in 1992 to commemorate the ninety-six members of parliament murdered by the Nazi party from 1933 to 1945. Most of them were left-wing politicians, with members of the Social Democratic Party and the Communist Party of Germany making up the majority of the victims. Over half of the victims perished in the concentration camps. With more research, additional names may be added to the memorial in the future.
Not all the memorials around the Reichstag are directly connected to Germany. One monument that piqued my interest was a section of brick wall at the northeastern corner of the Reichstag. Unsuspected visitors would assume this is a section of the infamous Berlin Wall. However, upon close inspection, it turned out that this wall was from Gdansk, the home of Poland’s Solidarity movement. In 1980, trade unionist Lech Walesa climbed over this wall into a shipyard. The event set off a series of political movements that eventually led to the collapse of the Berlin Wall and the dissolution of the Soviet Union. This wall was gifted to Germany by the Polish government in 2009 for the anniversary of the 1953 public uprising, the first mass protest against the Sovietization of East Germany.
Any visit to the Reichstag should be complemented by a glimpse of the nearby Federal Chancellery, the seat and office of the German Chancellor. The contemporary style complex is designed by Berlin architects Charlotte Frank and Axel Schultes. It is eight times larger than the White House and features a large amount of glass, an architectural nod to political transparency. While I love the architecture, the building is not universally loved, with some nicknaming it the “chancellor’s washing machine” and “elephant’s toilet.” Unfortunately, the chancellery building is open to the public only one weekend every year. If you are a political nerd like I am, it might be worth scheduling your Berlin trip around it.
On our last evening in Germany, I stumbled upon a light and sound show next to the Reichstag. During the summer, the Bundestag staged a 25-minute program on the history of German democracy, including the painful Nazi regime and the Cold War division. The show was projected on the Marie-Elisabeth-Lüders House and the Paul Loebe Building. In a typical German manner, all the spectators watched the entire presentation with the concentration of a graduate student. The German public may be the most civically aware in the world.