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.