Görlitz was known for its neat historic center, its post-war memory and a practical inclination towards pacifism. For decades, the city on the eastern border fit on the German map as a haven of caution and resigned industrial melancholy, a place where work and tradition maneuvered away from military power. But that calm is beginning to show cracks that force its inhabitants to rethink what it means to maintain peace when the world seems to want just the opposite. From the steel of peace to that of war. For more than a century and a half, the town of Görlitz, on Germany’s eastern border, lived off the rhythmic sound of trains. The wagon and locomotive factories They provided work for entire generations and defined the identity of this working-class region of the former East. But that era is coming to an end. After 176 years of railway production, the historic Alstom industrial complex is being converted by the arms consortium KNDS to manufacture components Leopard II tanks and Puma armored vehicles. What was once a symbol of civil mobility and reconstruction, today is transformed in gear of the German military machine. This metamorphosis does not arise from nowhere, of course: it responds to the country’s strategic shift towards rearmamentmotivated by the Russian invasion of Ukraine, fear of a withdrawal of American security guarantees and a economy in decline desperately looking for new sources of employment. Between pacifism and necessity. I was counting last week the new york times that, in Görlitz, industrial reconversion divide feelings. The population, aging and punished by decades of deindustrialization since reunification, sees the production of tanks as a lesser evil. In this area where the far-right AfD party (openly pro-Russian and opposed to helping Ukraine) concentrates almost half the voteseven its local leaders have accepted the change with resignation. “It is not a cause for celebration, but we cannot oppose having work either,” recognizeaware that the loss of employment would be even more devastating than the moral dilemma of manufacturing weapons. Reconversion. The factory, which once had more than 2,000 employeesbarely kept 700 before the sale, and KNDS agrees to keep half of them and plans to multiply it in the future. In fact, the unions, led by IG Metall, were the ones who promoted the idea of reorienting the plant towards the defense sector to avoid its definitive closure. In a territory marked by youth exodus and economic frustration, the arms industry has ended up offering something similar to a second chance. German military reindustrialization. The Görlitz case reflects a broader phenomenon: German rearmament as a driver of a new industrial reconversion. Since 2020, Berlin’s defense spending has increased about 80%exceeding 90,000 million euros, and the demand for specialized labor has skyrocketed. Companies such as Rheinmetall, Diehl Defense, Thyssenkrupp Marine Systems or MBDA have added more than 16,000 workers since the start of the war of Ukraine and plan to hire 12,000 more before 2026. The sector’s profits are so high that its managers increase dividends while exploring the purchase of automobile plants in decline, as that of Volkswagen in Osnabrück. The “logic”. The message from its CEO, Armin Papperger, summarize the logic of the new defense economy: if taxpayers’ money finances national security, jobs must stay in Germany. In this context, the factory conversion like Görlitz, it is perceived as an industrial policy with a dual purpose: to sustain the productive fabric and strengthen the country’s strategic autonomy. The moral dilemma. Despite the economic relief that the renaissance of the arms sector represents, it persists in German society a deep tension between the pacifism inherited from the post-war and the need to guarantee European defense. For many East Germans, who already experienced a first deindustrialization after the fall of the Wall and now suffer the loss of energy and manufacturing jobs, manufacturing tanks is a bitter way of survival. Some fear that the weapons produced will end up on the Ukrainian front, others that the rise of the business depends on the continuity of the war. “Will it be sustainable to manufacture tanks? I hope not. I hope the wars end soon,” admitted to the Financial Times a union representative. However, the reality of the market and geopolitics point in another direction: defense has become the new industrial hub European, and Germany (due to history, technological capacity and allied pressure) leads that transition. Goodbye train, hello tank. Thus, the old Görlitz factory, with its warehouses blackened by decades of metallurgical work, symbolizes the change of era that crosses Europe. Where wagons were previously welded to transport passengers, steel shells will be assembled for combat vehicles. What began as a strategy to save jobs threatens to redefine the industrial soul of the country: from civil ingenuity to military power, from the steel that united continents to that which now armors them. And a profound paradox: in a fractured political landscape, where the fear of war coexists with the need to prosper, the workers of Eastern Germany are once again the involuntary protagonists of history. Its destiny, between nostalgia for trains and the pragmatic acceptance of tanks or battle tanks, summarizes the dilemma of a nation that tries to reconcile its pacifist past with a present that pushes it, once again, to manufacture weapons to ensure its future. Image | Norwegian Armed Forces, State Ministry for Economic Affairs, Labor, Energy and Climate Protection In Xataka | The US no longer has to worry about Spain or the rearmament bill in Europe. Germany had a plan B In Xataka | The “rearmament” of Europe has begun at a Volkswagen factory in Germany: instead of cars they will produce tanks
