“If you are in Kyiv, it would be interesting to go see.”

That is the message Christine Dissmann recalls receiving in August 2025. She is the director of Hotel Continental – Art Space in Exile, located in Berlin. The suggestion referred to Nahirna 22, an artist-run art space and community in Kyiv’s former Institute of Automation. It had just been hit during a Russian air attack. As fate would have it, Dissmann was on a train heading to the Ukrainian capital city.

Months later, the first international exhibition of Nahirna 22 is taking place at Hotel Continental, in Berlin, until January 24. Around a hundred pieces from dozens of artists are on display. The aim is to sell them all by the deadline to fund repairs to the Kyivan art space, which suffered a second and much more destructive strike in the meantime.

“It’s like a beehive!”: a vibrant art community in Kyiv

On the northern flank of Kyiv’s city centre lies an imposing Soviet-style building that was formerly the Institute of Automation, a centre for research and development of technological processes.

As the institute went bankrupt, artists began renting some of the numerous rooms the property offers from 2016 onwards. Artists settled one after another. The growing number was soon accompanied by a desire, if not a need, for a formalised existence. Amid Russia’s war of aggression on Ukraine, November 2022 marked the end of a long gestation and a new beginning with the creation of Nahirna 22.

Today, Nahirna 22 gathers 64 artists in the art space and around a 100 as part of a community, placing it among the most important artistic groups in Kyiv, or even Ukraine, says its co-founder and artist Marta Nyrkova.

The “automation” survived in name only. The rest was replaced with a diverse flow of creativity drawn from talented minds free from curatorial constraints. Some small businesses also occupy premises amid the art studios.

“There is a very special atmosphere,” describes Katya Taylor, chairwoman of the Kyiv-based cultural NGO Port of Culture. No proper rules. No director. “You just have pure art.” Taylor has been visiting the space for years. “It is unique in terms of getting together very different artists and celebrating their talents.”

This celebration notably takes place on regular days of open studios, organised no fewer than 38 times so far.

Yet, the existential crisis looms. Just like the whole country, Nahirna 22 was caught up in the reality of the Russian full-scale aggression against Ukraine.

An artist-run art space amid war

Last year saw a sharp surge in air attacks on Ukraine, repeatedly targeting civilian infrastructure. Russia launched over 54,000 long-range drones and over 1,900 missiles against Ukraine in 2025, according to the Institute for the Study of War. Only a few days into the new year, and it continues. The double-tap strike on a residential building in the night between January 8 and 9 is one example among too many others.

The Institute of Automation felt the impact of this intensified air aggression first-hand, and twice.

On August 28, a hit during an air attack destroyed one artist’s studio and shattered many windows. Without heating, it was imperative to replace them before winter. Nahirna 22 entered survival mode. “We try to solve [these problems] ourselves, not expecting somebody to help us,” explains Nyrkova. Together, artists swiftly and unexpectedly raised almost €10,000 to buy plastic windows. They just barely had time to replace the last one before the scenario repeated itself.

“We did not expect that another would happen that soon,” deplores Nyrkova.

On November 14, Russia launched at least 430 drones and 18 missiles, according to Ukrainian authorities, in an overnight attack mostly aimed at Kyiv, where it killed six people. Nahirna 22 was struck again, far more destructively: besides newly shattered windows, the falling drone debris heavily damaged the roof.

Sabina Magnitofon, an artist and co-founder of Nahirna 22, was present at the time of the attack and documented the damage. She suffered a light concussion.

Fortunately, no one was killed or injured at the Institute of Automation during either of the two attacks, but the latter pushed Nahirna 22 to the brink of a material crisis.

A few days after the November attack, it rained directly inside the now partly roofless 5th floor. The water dropped down to the 4^th floor, and even to the 3^rd floor. “It’s too difficult to work in those conditions,” underlines Nyrkova. Several artists had to move their activities either to others’ studios or elsewhere.

This makes repairs imperative, but their cost skyrocketed with the new attack, far beyond the budget of independent artists. “If the roof cannot be restored, we will have to move,” regrets the co-founder, while fearing that “there is no other space for 64 artists.” Moving out could effectively expose the community to the risk of dismantling.

Such an existential threat accelerated a project that was underway since the first attack: Nahirna 22’s first international fundraising exhibition at Berlin’s Hotel Continental - Art Space in Exile.

An art space in Berlin, born out of solidarity with Ukraine

Hotel Continental envisions itself to be an “Art Space in Exile,” built from scratch together with Ukrainian war refugees.

As the first missiles struck Ukraine on February 22^nd, 2022, Christine Dissmann, a theatre maker in Berlin, wanted to help. The special bond with Ukraine she created through years of cultural collaboration turned out to be her driving force. She first committed to solidarity actions, but “we realised this is all important and nice, but not enough at all,” she explains. Alongside others, including refugees, they set out to establish their support on a long-term basis in their chosen field: culture.

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“We started from zero, spontaneously and unplanned, without a budget and without any specific experience in cultural management. But with a strong intention.” The latter came to fruition as the art space took shape in an old building of Berlin’s Alt-Treptow.

Dissmann likes to depict the evolution of the art space in human terms. If the first years were “like childhood”, they recently went through the “coming-of-age” and now do “their first steps of becoming grown up”. The foundations have been laid, and the team doubled in size.

While the scope of Hotel Continental’s actions has since widened through projects and collaborations, its core aim remains to support Ukrainian culture. As Dissmann put it earlier in 2024:

“Because war, on the one hand, is against the people, but it is also against the culture, and we need a place to somehow preserve it. I don’t claim that this place is preserving the Ukrainian culture, but that’s the idea.”

And that idea took all its sense when Russian attacks repeatedly damaged Nahirna 22.

From Kyiv to Berlin

No precise mission drove Dissmann’s journey to Kyiv in August 2025, except for a desire to catch up with acquaintances and reconnect with a city she had known before it was scarred by war. But the message about Nahirna 22 changed it all.

She texted Katya Taylor, with whom she had previously worked, notably on the massive “Flower of Democracy” mural decorating Hotel Continental’s building (see the picture above). Taylor agreed to take part in a project to support Nahirna 22. This strengthened the relationship between the two cultural entrepreneurs.

It was “very fast, very efficient,” explains Dissmann. “Because of the pressure of war and pain, you cannot lose any time.”

About 90 artists from the community proposed a few works. They needed to be small, easy to transport, and affordable, “to sell as many as we can,” underlines Taylor from Port of Culture. A selection of about a hundred was brought to Berlin.

For the first time, Nahirna 22 is exhibiting abroad, and for the first time, Hotel Continental is organising such a fundraising event.

This exhibition reflects Christine Dissmann’s wish to bring her art space beyond its initial framework, that is, not only working with culture “in exile”, but also directly with the country to establish a “bridge,” as she envisions.

A long path to recovery awaits Nahirna 22, which will fight for its survival, just like the whole of Ukraine does. “Artists do not want to leave,” concludes Nyrkova. For now, the road to recovery passes through Berlin, where, after almost four years of war and while sections of public opinion lose focus on the situation in Ukraine as other news developments accumulate, Ukrainians can still count on numerous allies who remain at work — providing a hopeful example of international solidarity.

The exhibition runs until 24 January at the Hotel Continental, located at Elsenstraße 87, 12435 Berlin. Admission is free.

Many thanks to Scott Lucas for reviewing the article. He is the founder and editor of EA WorldView.

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Museumsinsel (Museum Island) is one of those highlights, where locals are less likely to be found than the ever-increasing waves of tourists flocking to the German capital city. On November 29, the neo-Nazi parade – organised by the neo-Nazi micro-party Die Heimat (formerly NDP) and the extreme right youth group Deutsche Jugend Voran – caught many visitors by surprise.

“Excuse me, but what’s that?” asked a French tourist, already worryingly getting the idea of what was unfolding – and it was. “That scares me”, he declared in a voice suddenly submerged by emotion, “all the more since my uncle was in the Résistance” during World War II.

A memorial approach often draws visitors to Berlin. Yet, that Frenchman, just like many of his tourist counterparts that day, was certainly not expecting to come across such a direct echo of the past: offspring of the genocidal Third Reich parading proudly.

Yet another neo-Nazi parade, amid a rise in youth hard-right extremism

From the outset, the motto of the demonstration preached racism and antiziganism, essentializing Roma and Sinti people as criminals. “Fraudsters and criminal foreigners out!” said the signs, alongside pictures depicting their target under aggressive traits as they visibly demanded an AI to do. Yet, the aim of the march went beyond this one reason.

For the neo-Nazi micro-party Die Heimat, this demonstration was a way to relaunch its activity in Berlin and to avoid looming political irrelevance, especially by strengthening its ties with a new generation. Indeed, its demonstration partner, Deutsche Jugend Voran (whose leader is currently in prison for aggravated assault), counts among the recently emerged right-wing youth groups, notably thriving on social media bubbles. Some others, such as Jägertruppe and Berliner Jugend, also joined that day, as the Tagesspiegel reported. The Federal Criminal Police Office warned this summer about the clear increase in these extreme organisations since mid-2024.

It is not the first time such a gathering has taken place in Berlin. Recent years were punctuated by increasingly repeated attempts, and even in the city’s heart. On February 22, 2025, on the eve of the last German federal elections, about a hundred hard-right extremists gathered in the city centre. Yet, an antifascist resistance blocked their march.

To avoid such a scenario, November 29 could have been a timely slot. That day, about 50,000 people from across Germany converged in Gießen to protest (and faced many cases of police violence) the launch of the far-right party AfD’s new youth wing. The neo-Nazi march organisers could have assumed having a window of opportunity, as numerous antifascists from Berlin were busy about 500 km away. But just like in February, and several times before, their plan did not go very far.

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“No spaces for Nazis”

That Saturday of November 29, the counterdemonstration outnumbered once again by far the neo-Nazi parade: 1,200 against 150, according to police numbers. Multiple groups, such as Oma Gegen Rechts (Grandmas Against the Right), conjointly gathered a diverse antifascist crowd.

As the extremists were preparing their parade in front of the Humboldt Forum, the number of counterdemonstrators quickly grew, and slogans started: “Nazis out!”; “Shitty people”; “No right for Nazi propaganda”.

A massive police deployment of barriers, vehicles, and 300 officers stepped in between the two adverse groups. Four participants in the neo-Nazi rally were arrested during the afternoon for the use of banned symbols.

“For whom are you working?

I am a freiberuflich journalist.

Yes, but which side are you on?”

Being an independent reporter, especially with a camera, was no guarantee of reassurance to counterdemonstrators. Several found themselves on far-right YouTube channels after being introduced to an interview declaring the contrary. That prompts many to share the concerned YouTubers’ faces within antifa digital channels to prevent others from falling into the trickery.

Some counterdemonstrators masked their faces. Cameras were omnipresent. They know footage can be used by those parading and their counterparts for violent purposes. After all, “these are the most extreme groups”, highlighted a member of Oma Gegen Rechts who did not want to comment further, especially not in a video interview.

The neo-Nazi march took a while to start. And as it finally did, the counterdemonstration blocked its way just a few dozen meters in. Organisers got mad at the police for not clearing the way. “If we were on our own, we would have certainly created space for ourselves”, said Peter Schreiber, chairman of Die Heimat, to the Tagesspiegel.

Yet, they got nowhere for more than an hour, blocked on the Schloßbrücke leading to Unter den Linden. Many wore masks and neck warmers to hide their identity or cover up potentially compromising tattoos. Extremist speeches and slogans went on and on without getting much echo with the noisier counter-demonstrating crowd around, telling them to “piss off” and concluding: “You can just go home”.

For a more radical and seemingly younger section of the counterdemonstration, the clash of slogans was not enough. Some started to throw eggs. After one ended up on a policeman, moderators came to lecture a few of them about the “counterproductivity” of their actions. “It’s just an egg after all”, concluded another protester. On another level, bottles were also thrown.

The gathering stopped almost where it started.

Hate under escort to the U-Bahn

But the story did not end there. As the participants in the neo-Nazi parade were heading to the subway station, some of those counterdemonstrators eager for more radical actions broke through the police corridor towards their opponents. After a tumultuous moment, the police took back control.

Once the evacuation was reorganised, the extremists were led into the Museuminsel subway station, almost entirely cordoned off by the police. Only by-passers, journalists, and law enforcement were there to witness one of their noisier moments of pride that day – in the underground, under a police escort, and far from the hundreds of antifascists confronting them. “We’ll get you all!” they shouted.

As they entered the metro, last hate gestures were directed at the journalists and their cameras: middle fingers — no explanations needed — and “okay” hand gesture (👌).

Internationally used for simple approval in diverse situations, this hand gesture acquired a new meaning over the last years within extreme-right circles across the world. It is a rallying cry for white supremacists, as it forms “P” and “W” for “white power”. That is now no secret and recognised as a clear hate symbol within those contexts.

Photojournalists’ works in Germany regularly show that the use of that gesture is neither new nor surprising. On that day, neo-Nazis repeatedly used it and felt confident enough to do it in front of the police, as the above photograph underlines.

At that precise moment, the Berlin police did not react, prompting questions about a particular strategy or passivity regarding those symbols.

That being said, these white supremacist gestures are nothing but the clear expressions of a purely racist and fascist ideology, which is unconstitutional and de facto endangers Germany’s democracy.

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“It’s intolerable”

Amid the crowd that came to oppose the neo-Nazi march, a man held the flag of the VVN-BdA high and tight. Founded in 1947, it is the Association of Persecutees of the Nazi Regime – Federation of Antifascists. For him, the neo-Nazi march should not have been first authorised.

The parade required large-scale security measures with costly police deployment, disrupted tourist activity (notably since it took place next to a Christmas market), left a souvenir for the visitors that is potentially detrimental to Berlin’s image, and, most importantly, gave a platform to a grim ideology in a city that knows too well its consequences.

But if the authorities allowed these extremist groups to parade, civil resistance decided not to let this happen.

Once again, a neo-Nazi march was in the image of the ideology it represents: a failure.

Many thanks to Scott Lucas for reviewing the article. He is the founder and editor of EA WorldView.

All the pictures were taken on November 27, 2025, by Paul Mazet. If you want to use them, please ask and tag me along.

Today, Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky will visit his French counterpart, Emmanuel Macron, in Paris to discuss “conditions for a just and lasting peace,” as stated a French official on Saturday.

A few days earlier, on November 27, Ukrainians (whether expats or war refugees) gathered in front of the German Bundeskanzleramt (Federal Chancellery of Germany) in Berlin and voiced a similar message, alongside others initially planned.

Here are photos of those who gathered despite the cold which recently enveloped the German capital city.

The rally was organised by Vitsche, a prominent organisation in Berlin’s Ukrainian advocacy bubble, in collaboration with their partners Razom We Stand and Urgewald. These organisations highlight how purchases of Russian fossil fuels create a crucial financial windfall for Russia’s war of aggression, and aim to stem this trend.

Initially, the demonstration was supposed to demand deliveries of air systems, support of Ukraine’s energy resilience, and, most notably, the end of imports of Russian energy, which creates a crucial financial windfall for Russia’s war of aggression. Billions of dollars of Russian oil, gas and LNG are still being purchased by European Union State members, including Germany, and financing the war as well as the bombings of civilian targets in Ukrainian cities.

About 10 days ago, a 28-point so-called peace plan, in favour of Russia, was offered to the Ukrainians and put them in front of “the most difficult moment in history”, according to President Volodymyr Zelensky. That new development compelled the organisers to complete the protest’s demands…

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The 28-point plan was negotiated between the American Steve Witkoff and the Russian Kirill Dmitriev. A leak revealed how Witkoff directly advised the Kremlin to draft its offer.

Settled behind Ukrainians and Europeans’ backs, the plan sparked outrage as it merely concedes to Russian interests, with measures such as territorial concessions compromising lands currently occupied by Russians and even more. This plan appeared unacceptable to both Ukrainians and Europeans, since it is considered not to build a real and lasting peace, and may only provide respite for future Russian imperial ambitions. “Russia’s wish list paves the way for the next war”, stated Vitsche on November 24.

Thus, the Ukrainian advocacy organisation sharpened the focus of its protest in front of Friedrich Merz’s office and added a last-minute claim, which became the main one: “No peace deals on russia’s terms!”

Amid the crowd, made of Ukrainians as well as their non-Ukrainian allies, a man caught the attention of many as he diligently carried out his task: capturing the moment through a much longer effort than the camera’s click.

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On the drawing’s top, it says: “keinen Frieden ohne Freiheit” – “No peace without freedom”.

The phrase reflects a Ukrainian will for peace, but a just one, not something tailored by foreign and non-European imperialist powers to the aggressor’s interests, which could ultimately only lead to more wars and extend Russia’s appetite for regional hegemony.

Under ever-growing American pressure, Zelensky heads to Paris with this rallying cry for the defence of Ukraine’s interests.

All the pictures were taken on November 27, 2025, by Paul Mazet. If you want to use them, please ask and tag me along.

When I asked Steffen Schorcht, board member of the Bürgerinitiative Grünheide, his reaction to the Chinese company Dreame Technology allegedly aiming to produce the fastest electric car in a giant plant near the Tesla Gigafactory in Brandenburg, I could not imagine the following events. The Bürgerinitiative wrote a press release that got particularly noisy. Therefore, Brandenburg’s Minister-President had to admit there had been talks. The project is fully uncertain. But in the wake of an ongoing turmoil caused by Tesla’s installation, the State government’s methods have cast new outcry.

On the morning of September 21, 2025, I decided to check the most recent Google entries for “Tesla Gigafactory Berlin” – a Sunday morning activity as intriguing as what this research brought to light. A new protagonist had emerged in articles relating to this term: Dreame Technology, a Chinese company known for its vacuum cleaners.

Dreame announced last August its ambition to produce by 2027 a luxury electric car that will be the world’s fastest, a sort of E-Bugatti. For that purpose, CEO Yu Hao had visited potential production sites in Germany on September 8, according to Chinese sources. Investing directly in central Europe would allow them to be near potential customers, reduce costs, and benefit from a dense industrial infrastructure. As a result, reports alleged Dreame plans to build a factory near the Tesla Gigafactory on Berlin’s eastern flank, and implied it could be 1.2 times larger.

A potential Gigafactory 2.0 was big news. I needed to seek the reactions from a leading local activist opposing those pharaonic projects in a region facing imminent water problems.

“I haven’t heard anything about that,” responded Steffen Schorcht, visibly surprised.

“Do you have sources?”

Schorcht is a board member of the Bürgerinitiative Grünheide (Citizen Initiative Grünheide). Over the last years, this organisation has been campaigning against the installation of the Tesla Gigafactory on Berlin’s outskirts and its current expansion plans since this large industrial complex was built on a water conservation area without real citizen participation or transparency in decision-making. Individuals and groups (*0) joined this confrontation with Musk’s car manufacturer and local authorities.

Learning what could unfold with Dreame in his region echoed a too-familiar scenario for Schorcht.

From September 8, information about the alleged new project circulated in Chinese and English-speaking niche publications, whether about cars or business, without reaching the concerned place: Germany and, according to sources, Brandenburg.

While those reports did not catch the attention of German media, local authorities also did not communicate, unlike the Chinese business. This was only until September 21.

Bringing the information home

“I am appalled but not surprised”, reacted Schorcht after examining the sources I texted him.

No time to lose. He and his counterparts wanted to make this public. The board of the Bürgerinitiative was summoned. Its three members double-checked information and swiftly published a press release on that same Sunday: “Der Ausverkauf von Brandenburg geht weiter!” (“The sell-off of Brandenburg continues!”)

“It is rare for a press release to make a really big splash,” writes the left-leaning German paper junge Welt. “Most announcements of this kind just sit there, unnoticed, in the inboxes of media companies.”

No overcharged-inboxes-oubliettes this time. The German press (local and national!) jumped on the story, and Dreame hit the headlines of major publications on September 22. And questions followed – notably to Dietmar Woidke, Minister-President of Brandenburg.

At a press conference in Neubrandenburg following a joint cabinet meeting with the head of Mecklenburg-Western Pomerania on the following day, Woidke confirmed “there were discussions” with Dreame:

“In Brandenburg, we have had good experiences with preparing things well and calmly, as long as possible. Public reporting is often helpful, but there are also situations where it is not helpful”

This revelation about undeclared talks with an ambitious foreign investor, coupled with a questioning remark on transparency, did not go down well with those who had been advocating the contrary following Tesla’s rather unilateral establishment in the region.

“We haven’t had good experiences with Woidke!” retorts Schorcht.

After all, the curiosity to ask for his reaction on that Sunday morning was worth it.

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A few weeks later, we are back with Steffen Schorcht.

Since then, while news outlets discuss potential locations, a Dreame factory in Brandenburg remains purely hypothetical. Some big media cast serious doubts, such as Bild, which titled “Brandenburg has no space for new electric car factory”.

But regardless of the project’s viability, this new episode certainly represented a new transparency outcry for the Bürgerinitiative Grünheide.

Uncertainty of a giga-project…

The press release of the Bürgerinitiative astutely mentioned an area in Fürstenwalde-Spree and Langewahl. This more than 400 ha wide forest between the river Spree and the A12 highway was recently studied to become an industrial and commercial site ready for investors, as local media reported in June 2025. Behind the lines, the note implied something many thought: here is a potential location near the Tesla Gigafactory for Dreame.

Back when the forest industrialisation became public, it sparked opposition. Local citizens created the Bürgerinitiative Walderhalt Spreetal, aiming to preserve natural spaces against a project that means to them a “loss of habitat, drinking water, fresh air, and recreational space.”(*1) As their zone to defend got linked to Dreame in the German media, they drew increased attention.

The district administrator Frank Steffen (SPD) explained that the envisioned area to be industrialised “is only 230 hectares”(*2), adding that “it would take three to four years to obtain building permits”. Those numbers do not fit Dreame’s alleged plan for a new giga plant launched by 2027.

Nonetheless, “we believe that this area has already been presented [to Dreame]”, says the Bürgerinitiative Grünheide. Schorcht and his counterparts fear a scenario à la Tesla Megafactory: the forest being industrialised piece by piece. Since the initially studied surface was more than 400 ha, “we are concerned that this area will be expanded”, adds Schorcht, whether for Dreame or anything else.

If this location aroused interest, other speculations multiplied. By mentioning an area in Eisenhüttenstadt meant to become an industrial zone bordering Poland, or the 600-hectare airfield in Welzow, regional outlets wonder where Dreame could find its match.

For now, Dreame’s giant factory in Brandenburg remains more of a speculation. Local experience with Chinese business even showed how projects can fall through, like when S-Volt threw in the towel while it was supposed to create 1000 jobs in Lauchhammer.

But there were discussions with local authorities that were not followed by official communication: a nagging point for the Bürgerinitiative.

…but a certain and renewed outcry for transparency in Brandenburg

“It was great advertising for Dreame”, laughs Schorcht. Their name in headlines might have increased their vacuum cleaner sales in Germany.

Conversely, it was less good press for the Brandenburg government, particularly the political force dominating the ruling coalition: the SPD (Social Democratic Party of Germany), which holds key positions such as Minister-President or Minister of Economic Affairs, Labour, Energy and Climate Protection (*3).

The reported Dreame plans are only hypothetical. The “discussions” might have led to zero. Yet, given the Tesla Megafactory precedent, such a situation – with undeclared talks between the State’s highest representatives and a foreign company with a significant project – was a renewed last straw for the Bürgerintiative Grünheide.

Before Minister-President Woidke’s confirmation about the talks on September 23, the Bürgerinitiative Grünheide contacted local institutions (many linked to the future industrialised area suspected to be appealing to Dreame): the Brandenburg Ministry of Economic Affairs, the Amtsdirektor of Scharmützelsee, the mayor of Fürstenwalde-Spree, and the Landesrat of Spree-Oder.

The first and the second did not answer. The spokesperson of the third claimed that they knew nothing. The fourth said the same.

In Schorcht’s opinion, it is a sign that major decisions are discussed within a “really small circle” in opaque fashion. “That’s totally undemocratic!”

“For us, it’s shocking to see that no lessons have been learned from the mistakes made with the Tesla settlement and that industrial policy continues to be pursued as it was in the nineteenth century, with the overexploitation of nature without involving the people and with massive ecological and social consequences,” he concludes.

This Dreame affair appears as a catalyst for concerns about institutional methods, while the will to industrialise – especially along the logistical platforms of the A12 and RE1– is definitely there, with or without the Chinese company.

The Tesla Megafactory’s synergy has created a significant industrial revival in Brandenburg, a State surrounding and fully interacting with Berlin. National and local authorities aim to make the region a national spot for reindustrialisation and an international beating heart for the ever-expanding electromobility.

Yet, this dream (just like the hypothetical Dreame’s project) turns into a nightmare for locals who demand more transparency and democratic participation in regional planning, while underlining that human ambitions can be boundless, but natural resources are not.

This sets the scene for the ongoing reindustrialisation of Berlin-Brandenburg – in which questions are worth searching and asking, even on a random Sunday morning.

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Any additional institutional comments?

Since no further comments have been made public, we reached out to the same four institutions that the Bürgerinitiative Grünheide contacted.

We asked Brandenburg’s Ministry of Economic Affairs if further information on the potential installation of Dreame in the region would be announced in the near future. It refused to comment.

We asked the mayor of Fürstenwald, the Amtsdirektor of Scharmützelsee, and the Landesrat of Spree-Oder once again if they knew about these plans and discussions before the public confirmation by Woidke on September 23; if further information would be announced in the near future; and if they could confirm if the Dreame Technology delegation visited the planned industrial area between Fürstenwalde and Langewahl and if they met. None responded.

We asked the Oderland-Spree Regional Planning Association and the Ministry of Agriculture, Food, Environment and Consumer Protection of the State of Brandenburg whether they were aware of these plans and discussions before Woidke’s answer on September 23. The first did not respond. The second answered that this matter did not fall within his remit.

Footnotes

*0: A large part of them is gathered under the umbrella structure Tesla den Hahn abdrehen (Turn off the tap on Tesla).

*1: This zone is not a water protection area. Yet, more industries alongside the Spree could remain problematic for water resources if they are exploited. The river is a natural water pipeline heading to Berlin, and its flow will drop as it partly consists of groundwater pumped out for lignite mining in the nearby Lausitz region, which is supposed to end in the 2030s.

*2: A spokesperson for the Economic Development Agency Brandenburg and the Oderland-Spree regional planning association also reported last August a similar figure for the area earmarked for industrialisation out of the more than 400 hectares available and studied.

*3: Brandenburg’s current Minister of Economic Affairs, Labour, Energy and Climate Protection is Daniel Keller. Alongside representatives from 15 companies and the Brandenburg University Hospital in the Havel, he travelled to China in October “to expand economic relations”, as the official release explained without mentioning Dreame.

Many thanks to Scott Lucas for helping me put this post together. He is the founder and editor of EA WorldView.