Growing up black in Nazi Germany: A witness remembers

American journalist Hans Massaquoi chronicles his experiences in his native Hamburg during World War II in "Destined to Witness: Growing up Black in Nazi Germany"

In this story: A privileged background Unable to join the Hitler Youth 'Swingboy' credentials RELATED STORIES, SITES

CHICAGO (AP) -- In 1933, when he was a second-grader in his native Hamburg, Hans J. Massaquoi wanted to show what a good German he was, so he cajoled his baby sitter into sewing a swastika onto his sweater.

Massaquoi's mother spotted the Nazi emblem that evening and promptly snipped it off, but a teacher had already taken a school yard snapshot of the boy wearing the badge. The other children in the picture are typical fair-haired north Germans, but young Hans -- the only child with a swastika -- is dark-skinned and has kinky hair.

The startling photo appears on the dust jacket of Massaquoi's autobiography, "Destined to Witness: Growing Up Black in Nazi Germany," published in the United States by William Morrow.

	ALSO
Review: Contesting the Holocaust deniers

Massaquoi, now 74, retired three years ago after more than 30 years as managing editor of Chicago-based Ebony magazine, a post that gave him access to statesmen, leaders of the Civil Rights movement and the stars of American culture.

But in writing his autobiography, Massaquoi chose not to deal with his decades of success in the United States or with the famous people he has known. He told instead the story of his life as a young man in the working-class neighborhoods of Hamburg.

He credits the late Alex Haley, author of "Roots," with convincing him of the importance of sharing his experience of being "both an insider in Nazi Germany and, paradoxically, an endangered outsider."

"I left Germany in 1948, and since then I have met only two German-born blacks of my generation," Massaquoi said in an interview from his home in New Orleans. "There weren't many to begin with, and most probably died in the (concentration) camps."

Many other black Germans were the children of French and Belgian colonial troops from Africa who occupied the Rhineland after World War I. Massaquoi, though, was from a more privileged background -- at least at first. His mother, Bertha, was a German nurse and his father, who did not marry Bertha, was the playboy son of a former tribal king who served as Liberia's first consul general in Germany.

Massaquoi's earliest years were spent at his grandfather's villa, where white German servants waited on African dignitaries. A few days before his fourth birthday, however, his grandfather was recalled to Liberia in a political shake-up.

The grandfather and father wanted Massaquoi and his mother to come to Liberia with them, but she refused, saying that Hans, who had been born prematurely, was too delicate for the African climate. And so she chose to keep Hans in Hamburg, although it meant returning to work as a single parent. (Hans' father did not contribute to his son's support.)

It was 1929, and the district they moved into was the scene of frequent street brawls between Communists and members of the emerging Nazi party.

To young Hans, those Nazis were less fearsome than the occasional sadistic teacher or the neighborhood bullies who tormented him by chanting "Neger, Neger, Schornsteinfeger!" ("Negro, Negro, chimney sweep!").

That painful taunt provided the title for the German translation of Massaquoi's book.

"That title was not my idea," Massaquoi said. "I agonized over it for quite a while before letting them use it, but it seems to have caught on. The book is selling very well in Germany."

In mid-July, nine months after publication, "Neger, Neger" was still on the best-seller lists in Germany, and Massaquoi said it was being adapted there for use as a public school text. Movie plans are also in the works.

"I had expected some interest there, but this has surpassed all my expectations," he said. "I think the Germans want to get some closure about those years."

For Massaquoi, those years were filled with restrictions, rejections and even a certain fascination with Nazism -- particularly the Hitler Youth. One of the saddest moments of his childhood, he writes, was when his homeroom teacher told him he couldn't join -- and explained why.

"Of course, I wanted to join," he said. "I was a kid and most of my friends were joining. They had cool uniforms and they did exciting things -- camping, parades, playing drums."

With adolescence, Massaquoi faced more limitations. He learned to dance but could only dance in private; he learned to box but was not allowed to box Aryan opponents. Although he was a good student, higher education was forbidden.

And by the time Massaquoi was in his teens and growing more aware of the Nazi regime's true nature, Germany was at war.

Some of the most harrowing pages in Massaquoi's book tell of the near-destruction of Hamburg during the Operation Gomorrah bombing attack in the summer of 1943.

Massaquoi also tells stories of the "swingboys," disaffected youths like himself who took great risks by playing and dancing to their own version of American swing music -- something condemned by the regime as "Negermusik."

"There really wasn't anything political about it," he said. "It was more a manifestation of the normal rebellion of young people toward regimentation."

Massaquoi's "swingboy" credentials came in handy after Germany's collapse and the occupation of Hamburg by British troops. He was able to save his mother and himself from starvation by playing saxophone in clubs that catered to members of the American Merchant Marine.

Those sailors included the first American blacks Massaquoi ever got to know. They schooled him in American ways and gave him access to the American cigarettes that had become the "money" of defeated Germany.

After three years of cigarette smuggling and music, the 22-year-old Massaquoi was finally able to leave Germany. He first sailed to join his father's family in Liberia, where he wound up doing menial jobs in the bush. Later, in 1950, he flew to the United States to study aviation mechanics in Chicago.

Although he was an alien on a student visa, Massaquoi was drafted into the U.S. Army in 1951 and decided not to challenge it. Volunteering for the elite 82nd Airborne kept him from being sent to Korea. Instead, he spent his Army years in the still-segregated South.

The Army led to U.S. citizenship, education and eventually to Massaquoi's career as a journalist.

"Even at its worst, the American version of racism seemed much more endurable than the Nazism I had already experienced," he said. "In Germany, I was isolated -- I was the only one."

Copyright 2000 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.

Hundreds protest racist violence in Germany
August 5, 2000
Germany commemorates Nazi era 'Kristallnacht'
November 9, 1998

HarperCollins.com: William Morrow

Note: Pages will open in a new browser window

External sites are not endorsed by CNN Interactive.