When, almost 40 years ago, the historians’ dispute was under way in the former Federal Republic, it did not only centre around the singularity of the Holocaust in global history. It was also about its relevance for how the Germans perceived their identity in the post-war democracy. Should the Germans understand their history solely as a source of national pride and self-confidence? Or should the betrayal of all civilised values that was the Holocaust form the crucial reference point for a new, democratic identity?

Ladies and gentlemen, you all know the clear answer to these questions: the Holocaust is indeed inextricably linked with us. Our democracy lives from the knowledge of what came before, in fact, it needs this knowledge. For the past is never behind us. No line can be drawn to separate what was from what now is. The past leaves its mark on the present. And it forms the foundation on which our democratic society builds its future.

It was Jürgen Habermas who, amid the historians’ dispute, called for a patriotism of values – those values which remain the hallmark of our constitution, the Basic Law, to this day: commitment to the inviolability of human dignity; openness to European integration; establishment of a liberal but vigilant democracy. Anyone who remembers the historians’ dispute can appreciate how long the path and how great the resistance was before we reached the point where critical confrontation with National Socialism and German guilt became an integral part of how we perceive our national identity.

Why am I telling you this today, almost four decades on? Because at the moment, political forces that simplify and distort history and straighten it out as they see fit are regaining strength, also in our democracy. Because we are once again hearing calls for an end to the purported cult of guilt. Because the Holocaust is being relativised also in our country. Because at times, hatred and hate speech drown out the sense of responsibility which generally characterises public debate. And because there are those who are quite deliberately pushing the limits on what can be said in the direction of the unspeakable.

Democracy is not a state of affairs. It is never completed, always in flux, and never guaranteed for all eternity. Our democracy does not live through the articles of the Basic Law, but because citizens desire it and imbue it with life. That also involves defending it against those who threaten or even show contempt for democracy – and always being very clear about what rhetoric the despisers of democracy use.

Or as an intelligent essay from 2019 puts it: Anyone who wants to understand the recent successes of right-wing populists would do well to remind themselves under what conditions far-right thought patterns were able to catch on and find supporters after 1945. […] If we take a closer look, we will recognise that the old slogans have barely changed over the decades. But what is new is the fact that and the extent to which the tirelessly recycled calls for "a line to be drawn" […], for a rosy past, a "pure" nation […] are finding an echo. These words were written a few years ago by none other than Professor Norbert Frei.

I’m delighted to welcome you to Schloss Bellevue today. The book that you, Professor Frei, are presenting to us today – Im Namen der Deutschen. Die Bundespräsidenten und die NS-Vergangenheit (In the name of the German people. The Federal Presidents and the National Socialist past) – is the conclusion and the result of three years of research activity. A project which addresses the past and for that very reason is so relevant for our present times. You, Professor Frei, went down into the archives with your team, you sifted through files, letters, draft speeches, memos and other documents. I’m very grateful to you for this work.

In the past years, many ministries and authorities have commissioned investigations into the way they dealt with the subject of National Socialism in the early days of the Federal Republic, and it was clear to me that the office of the Head of State can certainly not neglect that responsibility. How did the first Federal Presidents of our country look back on the National Socialist period – and on their own biographical history? What did they say about the deeds and the perpetrators, in speeches, during state visits or when marking anniversaries? How did they commemorate the victims of German crimes? How did they deal with the Nazi past of candidates for decorations? What continuities were there before and after 1945? And to what extent did the Heads of State drive or were driven by developments within society? Your research, Professor Frei, provides academically sound answers to all of these questions.

The Federal President has a special responsibility to face up to the history of this office. A Federal President should provide orientation, also for the future of our society. And to do this, it is absolutely vital to address the past – and, I believe, also to address the past of the Office of the Federal President. Our historical responsibility does not stop at our own front door. It was therefore a long overdue step when, in 2019, we launched this research project: an independent investigation which was designed to go beyond a mere history of a federal institution and the research into possible continuities or breaks with the National Socialist period with regard to personnel or ideas, and which would ideally trace the impact of National Socialism over time.

I am delighted that the commission for this project went to you, following a two-stage selection process. After all, what was it that Jürgen Habermas once said about you: that you combine the contemporary historian striving for rationality and objectivity and the politically engaged enlightener? How right he is!

I would also like to thank the members of the academic advisory council, who supported and advised us throughout this project, beginning with the selection process. My thanks go to Professor Gabriele Metzler and Professor Sybille Steinbacher, Professor Anselm Doering-Manteuffel, Dr Thomas Hertfelder and Professor Michael Hollmann.

When Theodor Heuss was elected as the first President of the Federal Republic of Germany on 12 September 1949, only four years had passed since the National Socialist reign of terror, the Second World War and the Shoah, that betrayal of all civilised values. Yet even when he gave his inauguration speech, Heuss was confronted with a public which was calling more or less vocally for a thick line to be drawn under the past. In his speech, Heuss embraced this desire on the one hand by speaking of a past that now lies behind us. On the other hand, he very clearly deplored the fact that some people in Germany [...] want to forget all too quickly.

Much of what was at the time termed Vergangenheitsbewältigung, coming to terms with the past, and what today we would call a culture of remembrance, is a legacy of Theodor Heuss’ words and actions. He coined the term collective shame. Speaking in the Bundestag, he used the Day of National Mourning in November 1952 to commemorate not only Germany’s war dead, but also specifically the murdered Jews and concentration camp victims. And when, in that same year, only a few weeks later, he declared at the opening of the concentration camp memorial in Bergen-Belsen that we knew of these things, it was a provocation for many.

The plausible embodiment […] of wanting to learn from the past was, as Professor Frei writes in the study that has now been published, the perpetual responsibility of presidential work. All six Federal Presidents of the old Federal Republic – Theodor Heuss, Heinrich Lübke, Gustav Heinemann, Walter Scheel, Karl Carstens and Richard von Weizsäcker – embraced, indeed had to embrace, this responsibility, irrespective of certain differences in their personal style. Who was eager to move forward quickly, who just stuck to business as usual or who even dragged their feet, is something Professor Frei will discuss with us shortly.

I cannot and do not want to anticipate what he will share with us, but since I already had the privilege of taking a look at this book, I would like to share with you one crucial impression that it has left me with. Some pictures become more varied and full of contrast upon closer inspection. Heinrich Lübke, for example, was imprisoned by the Nazis for more than one and half years and in his role as Federal President took some decisions that one would not have expected given the mood of the early 1960s.

A history of guilt and shame, of forgetting and confrontation is what Professor Frei has called his new book. The staff of the Office of the Federal President during this period are also an important part of this history. It was not possible to disregard their political background, their attitudes and their past in such an in-depth investigation, and it could not be allowed to be. What was their experience of the 12 years of Nazi rule? How did their personal background shape their subsequent work for the Federal Presidents? The answers to these questions are also part of the history of the impact of National Socialism.

In these times particularly, when our democracy is being challenged so strongly, we as a society need to be aware of our history. For that which must not be repeated must not be forgotten. Never again is much more than the moral foundation of our liberal, democratic society. It is an appeal to all generations, to today’s as well as to all future generations.

And now I am privileged to call upon Professor Frei to explain his research findings.

Thank you very much.