Opinions

From a quiet memorial in Germany, some questions for Anchorage at 100

One of the more quiet and dignified memorials in Germany today is Adenauer House, the home of the political "father" of the modern German nation, Conrad Adenauer. Situated high on a hill looking over the Rhine Valley, it's a modest home, surrounded by lush gardens, and is generally as Adenauer left it, with his furniture and books. At the base of the hill is a small museum.

Adenauer served as the first chancellor of the Federal German Republic, from 1949 to 1963. He helped forge agreement on the nature of the new German state -- a democratic republic committed to personal freedom, and stability and international cooperation -- and helped construct Germany's recovery, the German economic miracle.

In some respects, Adenauer was the obvious choice as Germany's post-war leader. As mayor of Cologne from 1917 to 1933, he contributed visionary attributes to that city, including the first autobahn -- 40 kilometers from Cologne to Bonn -- and concentric greenbelts around the urban center. His imaginative improvements, together with his administrative capability and political acuity had already made him a major national figure.

Admired by Hitler but distrusted because of his centrist-to-left policies, the Nazis forced him to retire, and he spent the war years hounded and sometimes confined. After the war, the Americans and British wanted to get out of Germany as quickly as possible. The French did not want to see the re-emergence of a strong German state and were happy to work with the Soviets in the east of the country to prevent it. But Britain's Winston Churchill, and U.S. Presidents Truman and then Eisenhower, distrusted the French-Soviet commonality of interest more than they feared a resurgent Germany. Though it took a good deal of finesse, insight and maneuver on his part, Adenauer was the happy recipient of that judgment. At age 73, in 1949 he became the world's oldest democratically elected leader.

In the small museum building at Adenauer House, as in many contemporary museum facilities, curators have graced the walls with passages from the chancellor's letters, speeches and memoranda. Though not entirely original, one is particularly striking as the considered reflection of such a revered and successful nation-builder. "A people cannot know in what ways to shape their society nor in which direction to guide it without knowing their history." For Adenauer that meant, in addition to other thoughts, that the Nazi government was an aberration, that the German soul and German experience were multifaceted, containing many positive forces older and stronger than the evil phenomenon of Nazism.

But the notion that history is necessary is one we in Anchorage might ponder at the city's centennial. Does it have any relevance to the city as we contemplate the past 100 years?

On the one hand, the iconic symbol that passes for Alaska's past, and for its character, the Gold Rush, has little relevance to Anchorage. Though there was minor Gold Rush activity in the mountains behind Palmer, and at Girdwood and Hope, none of it had anything to do with building up Anchorage. Cap Lathrop did make money mining, but he made much more investing in town-building in Cordova, Fairbanks and Anchorage. And Lathrop might be the most representative figure of Anchorage's past. He was persuaded that Alaska would grow, was willing to risk his money creating businesses to capitalize on that growth, and despite a failed venture in oil drilling, was usually able to recognize which investments would pay. On the other hand, there would have been no money for his Anchorage customers to spend without the weekly payroll from the Alaska Railroad, a federal enterprise, and from all the other federal offices and projects the government invested in, especially from the start of World War II.

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But is that a useful past on which to construct a vision of the town's future and to shape its character? Is it a comfortable vision? And if it's not comfortable, can we change it? Is there any reason to be ashamed of it? Or should we just accept our past as a federal colony and exploit it as best we can? And are things really any different now than they've ever been? Those seem reasonable questions for a centennial summer.

Steve Haycox is professor emeritus of history at the University of Alaska Anchorage.

The views expressed here are the writer's own and are not necessarily endorsed by Alaska Dispatch News, which welcomes a broad range of viewpoints. To submit a piece for consideration, email commentary(at)alaskadispatch.com

Steve Haycox

Steve Haycox is professor emeritus of history at the University of Alaska Anchorage.

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