Union Berlin’s promotion in May this year
caused a global stir, as the Bundesliga prepared
to welcome a team from the former East Berlin
for the first time.
Immediately, thoughts turned to what would
be the Bundesliga’s first Berlin derby.
Western neighbours Hertha immediately suggested
that the fixture be played on November 9th,
to coincide with the 30th anniversary of the
fall of the Berlin Wall.
That Germany’s capital has never seen a
top-flight derby seems remarkable when one
thinks of the footballing powerhouses of London,
Madrid, Amsterdam and Rome. But Union President
Dirk Zingler had no desire to use the occasion
as a publicity stunt.
“To be honest, I don’t understand the
request,” he said. “For me, it’s a derby
– it stands for rivalry, for division. And
[it stands for] football-based class conflict
in the city.” Berlin’s history makes it
a truly unique city, and Union’s makes it
a truly unique club.
Based in the leafy, working-class suburb of
Köpenick, Union have played at the Stadion
An der Alten Försterei since 1920. The walk
through the forest to the ground has been
a part of their mystique for almost a century,
but after a series of dissolutions and reformations
after WWII, the club in its current form began
in January 1966, when trade union federation
leader Herbert Warnke proposed a club be formed
for the workers of Berlin.
But their 24 years in the East German Oberliga
brought little on-field success as bitter
rivals Dynamo Berlin found a far more powerful
ally than Warnke. With East German football
teams often representing factories, industries
or state appendages, Dynamo were the club
of the Stasi. Erich Mielke, the fearsome and
ruthless head of the East German secret police,
was the club president.
Unsurprisingly, this led to Dynamo and fellow
police club Dynamo Dresden dominating the
Oberliga as other clubs’ star players were
forcefully drafted in. Their supremacy was
unquestioned, and Dynamo Berlin won ten consecutive
Oberliga titles between 1979 and 1988.
Union, meanwhile, won only one trophy in the
DDR era, lifting the East German Cup in 1968
thanks to a 2-1 win over FC Carl Zeiss Jena.
But on-field success quickly developed into
a secondary concern. As Dynamo tightened their
grip on the footballing scene, their closest
rivals Union grew into an anti-establishment
role. Punks, skinheads, students and dissidents
allied as fans, voicing their anger at the
state, while shrouded in the relative anonymity
of the crowd.
Supporting Union became a cathartic, subversive
act. Despite mid-table obscurity, the stadium
rocked as fans chanted “the wall must go,”
or “I’d rather be a loser than a Stasi
pig”. The picture wasn’t black and white
but as the East German satirical magazine
Eulenspiegel put it, “Not every Union fan
was an enemy of the state, but every enemy
of the state was a Union fan”.
The unique culture around the club endured
after German reunification in 1990, but while
results on the pitch were good, financial
trouble and near extinction loomed. They topped
the Regionalliga in 1993 and 94 but couldn’t
afford to enter the 2. Bundesliga, and were
denied entry after attempting to submit forged
bank guarantees. Away from the pitch, things
remained as eclectic as ever as punk singer
Nina Hagen recorded the club’s historic
anthem, ‘Eisern Union’. The cover is still
played before games to this day.
Eventually, in 2000-01, Brazilian forward
Daniel Teixeira’s 18 goals in 16 games after
joining in January helped them to promotion
from the Regionalliga Nord into the second
division. Even more impressively, they beat
the likes of VfL Bochum and Borussia Monchengladbach
on a storming run to their first German Cup
final. Two goals from Jörg Böhme saw them
beaten at Hertha Berlin’s Olympiastadion
by Schalke, another club with staunchly working-class
roots. Their appearance in the final nevertheless
saw them qualify for the first round of the
UEFA Cup. They beat Finnish champions FC Haka
4-1 on aggregate, before being knocked out
2-0 by Bulgarian side Litex Lovech.
Two top-half finishes in the second tier suggested
a degree of stability, but it was a fleeting
sensation. Ten points adrift of safety, they
were relegated back to the Regionalliga in
2004 and financial problems brewed again.
New president Zingler, a lifelong Unioner
and club member, inherited a club in dire
straits and seemingly unable to guarantee
the €1.46m reserve the German FA demanded
for Regionalliga registration, but the fans
stepped in. In Germany, blood donors are paid
for their contributions and thus the ‘Bleed
for Union’ campaign was born, a literal
transfusion from the fans to keep the club
alive.
Alive, but still declining. A second successive
relegation followed and, four years on from
European football, Union were in the fourth
tier. In a semi-professional division, Zingler
took a gamble by retaining a professional
squad, a financial risk which could only last
a season. It paid off. Daniel Teixiera returned
to score 24 more, old enemies Dynamo were
thrashed 8-0 in front of a record fourth-division
crowd, and Union won the league.
Life back in the third tier was tough and
on an agonising final day in 2007, Union were
one of three sides to avoid a five-team relegation
zone on goal-difference alone. But a burgeoning
partnership between forwards Karim Benyamina
and Nico Patschinski hoisted them to fourth
the following season, before another memorable
supporters’ initiative.
While Union were resurgent, their stadium
was crumbling. Zingler had financed the fourth-division
promotion which saved the club but millions
of Euros were needed for renovations, money
Union simply didn’t have. So in 2008, they
renovated it themselves. It took an estimated
140,000 hours of voluntary work but they were
handsomely rewarded the following season with
another league title, and a return to the
2. Bundesliga. More importantly, it was a
return to stability.
In their first seven seasons back in the second
tier, Union never finished above sixth and
never below twelfth. For a club that had been
through so much, it was bliss. An unexpected
promotion push in 2016-17 brought the chant
‘Ne Scheiße, wir steigen auf’ – “oh
shit, we’re going up” – which was only
partially tongue-in-cheek as some were concerned
at what being in the Bundesliga would mean
for the club’s identity.
Now, they’ll find out. Urs Fischer’s side,
built on the back of the division’s meanest
defence and promoted despite drawing more
games than they won, has already started to
look a little different. Bigger sponsors,
more established players. You can’t survive
in the Bundesliga just by selling bratwurst
and beer, as communications director Christian
Arbeit put it. Whether they can do it without
selling their soul remains to be seen.
