Fans wave German flags during the Group A match between Germany and Canada in Berlin. (Associated Press)
During every Women's World Cup game over the last three weeks, the stadiums have been painted with German patriotism: leis, bunny ears, capes, face paint, noisemakers and oh, yes - cowboy hats - everything in black, red and gold.
We don't think much of such displays in Canada. Two weeks ago on Canada Day, our country was awash with red and white, and year-round flags top stores, buildings and homes.
We take our patriotism abroad, too. Travelling Europe or Asia, it's hard not to run into Canadian travellers, their backpacks adorned with a dainty maple leaf (although arguably in that context, the crest is often less a celebration of Canada, and more an attempt to separate us from our southern neighbours).
Still the line: "I'm from Canada," is almost always met with smiles, and an affirmation that: "all Canadians are really nice."
Most Germans I know didn't grow up swathed in their national colours, or hoisting their flag atop their house. When my German friend Annette was travelling through Australia after university, some of her compatriots would say: "we are from Europe."
Even now Annette told me she's not quite comfortable with national pride: "I'm glad that I grew up in Germany, but I'm not 'proud' to be German," she told me.
Part of this has to do with the outside perception of Germans - organized, punctual, reliable, and "not very cool," Annette pointed out.
But more broadly, the lack of flag-waving has to do with the fact that over 65 years later, Germany is still living with the legacy of the Third Reich.
Feelings about the phrase "Ich bin stolz, Deutscher zu sein (I'm proud to be German)," have been polarized to such an extent that neo-Nazis adopted the phrase as a slogan for their political campaign a few years ago. And when the former general secretary of the Christian Democrats used the phrase in an interview, he was accused of 'having the mentality of a skinhead'.
With so much sub-text, and where 'nationalism' still has a haunting echo, it's understandable that Germany has struggled to find an acceptable face for its patriotism. So flag-waving and nonchalant national pride have always been difficult.
That all changed in 2006, when the World Cup came to Germany and provided the national psyche with a much-needed catharsis. More than score lines and statistics, the competition gave Germans a chance to experience what so many other countries take for granted: guilt-free nationalism.
When super fans from around the world arrived in Germany with their flags and t-shirts in tow, Germany responded with its own national train of support. A million German jerseys were sold that year, compared to 250,000 during the previous World Cup.
But I think it's deeper than that. Last year before the World Cup in South Africa, I described how the Ivory Coast team was instrumental in bringing their country out of civil war in 2005/2006. The healing power of soccer spans across countries and across the world; when national players step out on to the field, the entire nation steps out with them. And if the team wins, the country wins by extension. Soccer has this amazing ability to create a sense of national unity and identity beyond religious, ethnic and political divides.
Of course soccer is not a cure-all for national malaise) but in 2006, the success of the German team, and the World Cup in general, gave Germans - from East and West and from various cultural backgrounds - a reason to celebrate together. At the time Der Spiegel noted: "it's like being in a different country with Mediterranean cheerfulness and uninhibited open-minded patriotism. . . a country under a black-red-and-gold blanket."
Passing the flag
Though the 2006 World Cup ended, and the flags were put away, Germans have remained with a refreshed sense of patriotism, Norman Eiselt, a bank agent from Kaarst, told me during the U.S.-France semifinal game a few days ago. Whenever there's a big carnival, gay pride parade, Eurovision contest or soccer tournament, the flags are unfurled once again.
Viktoria Zeng, was sporting black-red and gold bunny ears when I met her a few days ago.
"Now we can support our national team," she told me, with a smile. "It's about being patriotic, which has nothing to do with the Nazis."
She added, though, that the Women's World Cup doesn't have enough clout on its own to have started the patriotic trend.
"All this wouldn't have happened before 2006," she said. "The Men's Cup was the first time people didn't have a second thought about the flag and it's been this way ever since."
Ich liebe Deutschland
There's a lot to be patriotic about in Germany these days. The country is Europe's economic powerhouse, and a leading exporter of machinery, vehicles and chemicals (OK, much of this is arms - Germany's the world's third biggest exporter of arms).
But the country is also a global leader in terms of wind power capacity, after China and the United States, and the country hopes to phase out all its nuclear plants by 2022. Germany's Chancellor Angela Merkel, though she has been labelled indecisive, is still one of the most effective leaders in Europe, and even Pope Benedict XVI is a German. Picture-perfect World Cups in 2006 and again in 2011 are two more things on the growing list.
There's even a new show on television called "Ich liebe Deutschland:" (I love Germany). It's a comedy packed with washed-up celebrities, and with an audience dressed in German soccer fan attire - leis and all. Although it's just a comedy, I'm not sure this type of program would have been possible before Germany's World Cup successes.
Still deep-seated problems
Although the success of Germany's multiethnic soccer teams have helped the country (OK Germany didn't do well this year, but they are still a powerhouse in the women's game), race issues still run deep. Polls suggest that a majority of people in Germany think that immigrants (and particularly Muslims) are a burden on the economy. And Chancellor Merkel got a lot of flack from the Muslim community for presenting a prize to a Danish cartoonist who depicted the Prophet Mohammad with a bomb-shaped turban.
During last year's World Cup in South Africa, people questioned why foreign-born players on Germany's team still don't sing the national anthem. Although it's possible that some players don't know the words (I'm told it's not taught in all schools), the press postulated it might be because of patriotic ambivalence. Currently the third stanza of the "Song of the Germans" is sung pre-match, but under the Nazis, the first stanza, which begins, "Deutschland, Deutschland über alles" - "Germany, Germany above all" - was the official anthem.
Social scientists such as Wilhelm Heitmeyer and his colleagues, have also warned that the idea that World Cups produce a "tolerant patriotism" is "dangerous nonsense, a bit of brainwashing." The authors warn that mass media in identity and patriotism campaigns" should be discouraged.
Moving up and moving on
There are the reminders of Germany's "history" around every corner. In Berlin, some of the old buildings are still pierced with gunshot holes and there are thousands of "stolpersteine" or stumbling stones across the country commemorating the Jews, gays, resistance fighters and Gypsies whose lives were taken during the war. From the recovering cities of Frankfurt and Dresden, to the bleak skeletons of concentration camps that dot the countryside, I don't know if Germans could ever forget the past.
But it's getting easier to forgive themselves through sport, as demonstrated again this year through the Women's World Cup. The support for Germany started strong at the opening game, and has continued to the final, despite the home team's early exit. At today's final, people young and old alike are rocking the country's national jersey and colours.
"We are disappointed in the [German] team's performance," 16-year-old Milana Holtschuffe told me in the stadium.
"But we are still proud," she said.
