Video narrated and hosted by Fred Mills. This video contains paid promotion from Straight Arrow News.
In northern Germany, the vast remnants of the Nazi regime are stirring up controversy not over its past but over its present transformation. Once conceived as a seaside resort for National Socialist tourists, the Colossus of Prora survived the ravages of World War II, but has a distinctly modern fate as it is being converted into luxury apartments. facing.
Above: The Colossus of Prora on Rügen Island.
Opinions are divided on this development. Supporters argue that reuse offers an opportunity to restore a scenic area of Germany’s coastline and step away from history, while critics say the site is a grim reminder of the atrocities of the Third Reich. I argue that it should continue to be a thing.
Located on the idyllic island of Rügen, Prora was conceived by the Nazi organization Strength Through Joy (KDF) in the 1930s. The initiative aimed to blend leisure and propaganda to provide affordable vacations for German workers. This vast complex, designed by architect Clemens Klotz, was intended to accommodate 20,000 visitors in eight identical blocks spread over 4.5 kilometers along the coast.
In 1936, 9,000 workers, including forced laborers, began construction work. Each block was six stories high and 550 meters wide, constructed of reinforced concrete, a novel technology at the time, with brick exterior walls. The project cost a huge amount of money, equivalent to US$900 million in today’s money.
Above: Prora under construction in the 1930s.
The resort will include facilities such as a festival hall, a movie theater, and a cruise ship pier, all of which were built on a massive scale to demonstrate the regime’s power. The rooms were small, each sleeping only two people, and were purposely built to allow people to spend more time in the common areas. This philosophy was summed up by KDF founder Robert Ray, who declared that “sleep is the only free time that should be provided.”
However, with the outbreak of World War II in 1939, development of the Prora was halted. Only four of the accommodation buildings were fully completed, with most of the rest of the site still under construction. The site was occupied by the Red Army during the war, who attempted to demolish the complex but quickly gave up as they blew up some of the unfinished accommodation buildings. Prola was so large that engineers calculated that it would require half the Red Army’s annual allotment of explosives to complete its work.
Above: One of Prora’s abandoned apartment blocks.
After the war, Prora became a Soviet military facility and was hidden from public view during the German Democratic Republic (East Germany). Unification in 1990 brought the site back into the public consciousness, sparking intense debate over its future.
In the decades following unification, proposals for redevelopment of Prora ranged from demolition to its conversion into a mixed-use site with cultural, scientific, and medical facilities. It was granted protected status in 1994, preserving its structure and providing tax incentives to developers willing to invest.
The transformation began in earnest in the mid-2000s, when the first developers converted blocks into luxury hotels and private residences. Today, the site is home to luxury apartments, youth hostels, and various leisure facilities, but it is not without its struggles.
Above: Part of the redeveloped apartment complex in Prola.
Critics, including historians like Katja Lucke of Dokumentationszentrum Prora, argue that widespread commercialization undermines efforts to commemorate the site’s dark history. For them, the balance between recognizing the past and embracing a new future tips too far in favor of profit.
Prora’s story raises universal questions about how societies deal with the architectural legacies of oppressive regimes. Some buildings, such as the former Gestapo headquarters in Berlin, were transformed into monuments. Some facilities, such as the Berlin Olympiastadion, have retained their historical significance while being adapted for modern use.
Above: The site of the Gestapo headquarters in Berlin is now the Museum of the Topography of Terror.
Proponents of the Prora redevelopment, like Ulrich Busch, who led the Prora Solitaire project, believe that reimagining such places can humanize them. They argue that by transforming a propaganda tool into a place of joy, buildings acquire new positive narratives.
Prora’s transformation is a case study that navigates the intersection of history, memory, and progress. The debate over its future highlights the delicate balance between preserving the past and reusing it to meet modern needs. As the story continues to unfold, Prora reminds us that even history’s darkest chapters can inspire reflection, renewal, and, in some cases, reconciliation.
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Video narrated and hosted by Fred Mills. Additional footage and images courtesy of Copterdrone, Jörn Tirgrath, DW, Thomas Overberg, Dokumentationszentrum Prora, Berlin Brandenburg Economic Archive: Image Archive of U5/3, Philipp Holzmann AG/German Construction Industry Main Association eV, Prora Solitaire .
