Is the party finally over for Berlin?

On Saturday night, the Berlin-based writer and filmmaker Walter Crasshole was enjoying a cosy evening in at the Kreuzberg apartment he has lived in for nine years. “None of my friends were going out because of the curfew, so I settled in with some Fleabag and a bottle of wine,” he told me.

Due to rising Covid-19 rates, the famously nocturnal city was being given an 11pm curfew for the first time in 70 years. Bars and restaurants were ordered to shut, as well as the spätis — the late-night shops where revellers can buy cheap beer at all hours.

When 11pm hit, Walter says he heard “an explosion of energy” from the street below. “There was so much honking and shouting that I couldn’t hear the show,” he recalls. Outside, crowds of people were wandering into traffic, looking for a spot where they could carry on drinking. “Berlin’s not used to this,” he continued. “We’ve never had a time when people have to stop partying. After half an hour, it quietened down. I guess people realised there was nowhere to go.”

For most of this year, Berlin escaped the worst of the pandemic. But that changed last week, when the health minister Jens Spahn declared the capital to be a new virus hotspot. As well as the curfew, gatherings of more than 10 people indoors were banned, plus outdoor gatherings of more than five people from two different households.

Although Germany has won praise for its handling of the pandemic, Angela Merkel made an unusually emotional speech last month, saying Germans were “risking everything” by becoming too relaxed. The daily infection rate jumped by more than 4,000 on Thursday, compared with just a few hundred when lockdown began easing in May. The Chancellor warned cases could climb as high as 19,000 by Christmas if we do not stick with the social-distancing rules, which include compulsory face masks in enclosed spaces.

Exact rules vary depending on which state you live in. Compared with other European capitals, Berlin never experienced a particularly heavy lockdown. Germany’s federal system means that regional governments decide specific restrictions, so while states such as Bavaria opted for super-strict controls, the capital kept things more relaxed.

Although restaurants, shops and workplaces were shut, we didn’t have any limits on when or how long we could be outside for. We were also permitted to meet up with one other person we didn’t live with — a decision made by the Berlin senate due to the high number of single-occupancy households.

Due to the city’s history, heavy policing tends to be unwelcome, so there were no tickings-off if you sat an inch too close to a friend in the park. The dark German winters mean Berliners relish the opportunity to be outside as soon as spring hits, and parks and canals draw plenty of day drinkers whatever the time of year. So during the first wave, the famously hedonistic city embraced this with extra fervour. Parks such as Tempelhof had a carnival atmosphere seven days a week.

The city felt even more alive when bars and restaurants opened up again in mid-May. But perhaps it was the fact that we never endured a serious lockdown that has made some people complacent. Over the past month I’ve noticed fewer staff in bars and cafés wearing masks, and it’s normal to see people crowding in groups.

During the crisis, the biggest dent has been to Berlin’s famous club scene and cultural events. An early outbreak was linked to the KaterBlau nightclub, and parties and gigs were declared off-limits while most other businesses slowly reopened. Some venues have tentatively begun trying out daytime outdoor-only parties with masks required on the dancefloor. Some Berliners have complained that the scene, so central to the city’s character, is being unfairly targeted, particularly with the new lockdown, when religious gatherings and family parties have still been taking place.

Globally, Germany has been held up as an example of how to control the virus. Its politicians have been clear, consistent communicators, taking the science seriously. Merkel’s sober explanations of the risks and restrictions saw her personal approval ratings soar as high as 80 per cent, and populists such as the far-Right AfD have struggled to exploit the situation.

In the early days of the pandemic, virologist Christian Drosten quickly became a household name and his daily podcast from state broadcaster NDR topped the download charts. Grants for the self-employed came almost immediately, and friends who’ve lost all work say they’ve been impressed by the generosity of Germany’s unemployment benefits. You feel like you’re in safe hands here. Especially when I see the anxiety and confusion my friends and family back in the UK are dealing with.

Test and trace is also functioning well — although it’s not quite as flawless as some media reports may paint it. There are testing centres all over the city, and you can usually book one a day in advance and get results 24 hours later. But since October 1, tests are no longer covered by your health insurance unless you have symptoms or have been in contact with a confirmed case. You can only get a test at a Bahnhof station if you are arriving from a risk area. I could not get one at the airport when I returned from Greece the other week. The corona-warn-app only works on iOS 13.5 or later.

In fact, many Germans have been rather amused at the “Germany is perfect” narrative that’s been playing out overseas, and are quite aware that luck has played a large part in the low number of deaths. Seeing Italy and Spain hit hard gave German authorities time to prepare, and the country’s manufacturing industry meant that tests would always be easier to make and distribute here than in the UK.

Also, Germans are much less likely to live in intergenerational households than southern Europeans, meaning the spread has largely been contained to younger people. But Berlin’s emergence as a new hotspot just proves how difficult this virus is to control, even when governments initially appear to be getting it right.

There was panic in German media this summer when illegal raves popped up in place of clubs. Parks such as Hasenheide in the Neukölln area of Berlin and urban woodland such as Planterwald in the east of the city offer plenty of hidden spaces to set up decks and speakers. A friend told me the organisers of one that he attended were desperately trying to stick to some distancing rules and gather contact details, but this proved impossible as the night wore on.

The risk is that the new curfew will simply push these parties indoors as the mercury drops, ramping up the spread of germs. Those hedonistic nights of bouncing from bar to club to party, not knowing where you will end up or when you will return home, are something of a fading memory. This culture is what draws so many young people to live here. German winters are long and bitter, so we won’t have the relief of outdoor living we’ve enjoyed for all these months.

And despite Merkel’s popularity, pockets of discontent continue to bubble away, often exploding violently. Many in the city were hugely disturbed by the recent 38,000-strong anti-lockdown protests which attracted a mix of far-Right and Left and ended in parliament being stormed. At dinner recently, I was told about a friend of a friend who has been attending, despite being queer and belonging to the radical Left. “He’s been sucked in by all these anti-mask theories,” my friend sighed. “We’re trying to explain to him that he’s aligning himself with neo-Nazis, but he won’t listen.”

And although the AfD is polling low, far-Right groups are still making their presence felt. Recently, demonstrators have been gathering at Hermannplatz, a vibrant and buzzing area that’s a mixture of Berlin hipsters and local Arab families, holding signs aggressively declaring “No to sharia”.

Indeed, the coming year is likely to be something of a watershed moment in German politics. A general election is planned for next autumn when Merkel will step down. It’s not yet clear who will replace her. Many jobs have been kept afloat thanks to government support — the Kurzarbeit programme, which predates the UK’s furlough scheme, allows businesses to reduce employees’ hours rather than make them redundant, and has saved many jobs. But like elsewhere, there’s a sense that the economic reality is yet to hit, and the likely recession could impact the run-up to the election in surprising ways.

And it’s not just the far-Right who will probably be making their voices heard. Germany’s Fridays for Future movement was back on the streets two weeks ago — socially-distanced of course — calling for the climate to not be ignored in pandemic recovery programmes. Recent polls show climate change is still one of German voters’ top concerns, and the Green Party — currently polling at 19 per cent — could benefit from this.

If infection rates continue to rise, it’s not too clear how further restrictions will be received. Germans may often be stereotyped as meticulous rule-followers, but Berlin’s complicated history of surveillance also means that overt state interference in people’s lives is often unwelcome. The winter weather may mean people are more inclined to stay home and hibernate — but this could lead to huge numbers of house parties, or empty buildings being co-opted for raves. Winter is coming.

@jessicabateman