How charming, Berlin once again finds itself gripped by the rainbow fever, as the Bundesrat, eager not to be left behind in the race for public affirmation, has taken the fashionable step of hoisting the rainbow flag in front of its rather drab edifice. Bundesratspräsidentin Anke Rehlinger was quick to declare that diversity, respect, and tolerance are absolutely vital for democracy—as if endlessly repeating these platitudes might one day make them profound. Meanwhile, the Christopher Street Day parade, that annual carnival of garish self-expression, will no doubt pause to bask in this top-down symbol of bureaucratic embrace.
The Bundestag, on the other hand, has apparently tired of rainbow décor and, under the iron hand of Bundestagspräsidentin Julia Klöckner, decreed the flag will only fly on May 17th, a date now apparently reserved for all one’s progressive gestures. What nerve! One can only imagine the histrionics: after flapping so gaily in 2022, the poor flag must now remain stowed away for most of the year, its return to the pole restricted, its pride wounded. Of course, outrage ensues, as is the custom for every decision in this country that does not result in a surfeit of colourful banners and hashtags.
To add insult to imagined injury, the Bundestag leadership has forbidden its queer employees’ group from marching in the parade as an official entity. Apparently, political neutrality is suddenly too precious to compromise for a parade, even when the cause is so very in vogue. Employees, as Klöckner clarifies in a particularly starchy moment, may attend privately but heaven forbid it should occur on paid time.
Once again, one cannot help but marvel at the frenzied virtue signalling by these government bodies. It is almost touching how they believe hoisting a piece of fabric absolves their institutions of all possible failings—as if a flag can make up for outdated bureaucracy, inefficiency, and a general lack of vision among the governing classes. As someone who, I daresay, was raised to believe that true change requires more than performative gestures and massed crowds bellowing slogans, I find this whole spectacle rather... provincial.
Really, is this what passes for progress among the masses—quarreling over who gets to wave which colours outside which building? I suppose, for those who have not the luxury of grappling with real problems—such as managing vast estates or considering investments exceeding the modest means of entire ministries—such matters must seem terribly consequential. How quaint.
May I offer a modest suggestion: Instead of flying flags and pensively debating which public servant may toss rose petals in the parade, perhaps we might direct our energy towards proper education, economic advancement, or policies that might lift the less fortunate out of their distressing situations. But no, I forget myself—symbols are so much easier than substance in a society determined to congratulate itself for every act of empty pageantry.
Nevertheless, let the banners fly and the commentariat squabble, if it keeps them busy; in the meantime, some of us have more important matters to attend to than the choreography of virtue on Unter den Linden.