Daubed in red paint across several of Berlin’s political party headquarters last night, the slogan (since scrubbed off) referred to a massive police raid on an East Berlin squat last week, one of the largest and most controversial in Berlin’s recent history. Following an attack of a police officer nearby, a 500-strong anti-riot team backed up by dogs and helicopters stormed into the so-called “occupied house” at 94, Rigaer Strasse (or “R94”) on Wednesday night, making 100 arrests. Police raided the two houses next door the following day and kept up a heavy stop-and-search presence over the weekend.

Taking place at one of Berlin’s best-known alternative centers, the raid has sent shockwaves through the city, sparking a heated debate on whether it was a case of necessary public safety or unlawful police overreach. For the police and their defenders, the raid was an inevitable consequence of continuing disorder and antagonism coming from the squat. For their critics, the assault on the officer was an excuse used by the police to launch an only quasi-lawful attack on people who they disliked.

The incident nonetheless has more resonance than as a local street battle alone. While they’ve been in retreat for years, Berlin’s squats were long a high-profile part of the city’s fabric, forming a cornerstone of the city’s alternative mythos. 

....

Berlin nowadays is a very different city. Across Germany, extreme right views are arguably more popular than ever, but the city’s days of orchestrated skinhead street violence have largely passed. Neighborhoods once shunned for their cold, leaky houses are now refurbished and highly sought-after by the middle class. Rigaer Strasse is in a gentrifying, well-to-do area that frequently acts as a second choice overspill for people who’d really like to live in the expensive neighborhood next door.

Squats inevitably have little place in this changed cityscape. But to their credit, they have also tried to move with the times. While large numbers of occupied houses have been dissolved, often following violent evictions, most had already shifted peacefully over to paying some rent by the end of the 1990s. That didn’t stop owners evicting the occupiers to refurbish and gain a higher rent, but it did for a time create a stable environment in which residents could pursue an alternative lifestyle without unmanageable friction. They’ve maintained an uneasy balance, neither part of the city’s mainstream life nor antagonistic to surrounding neighbors who are.