In the rubble left by the second world war, Berlin seized a zero-hour opportunity to remake itself with a brave new vision of mobility, its citizens zooming down broad avenues and autobahns in roaring German-engineered cars.
Tramlines, particularly in the capitalist west of the divided city, were ripped out to make way for motorists, and bicycles were muscled out of the main traffic arteries. The autogerechte Stadt (car-friendly city) was born.
Fast forward 80 years and the dream of carefree individualised transport has regained a stronghold in the German capital. In fact, as cities like Paris, Amsterdam and Copenhagen embrace increasingly climate-, bicycle- and pedestrian-friendly policies, critics say Berlin is zooming full-throttle in reverse.
“It’s not an unreasonable demand that Berlin … actively ensures that everyone who is not surrounded by a tonne of metal feels safe in public spaces,” Julia Schmitz, a community affairs reporter, wrote recently in the newspaper Der Tagesspiegel.
Experts note Berlin does have a low ratio of cars per person, extensive but woefully underfunded public transport and a chaotic network of bicycle lanes that 15 years ago were seen as cutting edge in Europe.
But striking the right balance of interests on Berlin’s roads has proved divisive since the pandemic, and hammered a deep wedge through the ruling coalition, the same fractious alliance of the conservative Christian Democratic Union (CDU) and the centre-left Social Democratic party (SPD) that governs at the national level.
The CDU built its win in the last election in 2023 in part on a backlash against the car-critical policies of the previous government of the SPD, the Greens and the far-left Die Linke. Aspects of the debate have taken on the flavour of a culture war, with the far-right Alternative für Deutschland also campaigning on motorists’ rights.
Because Berlin’s sprawling city limits encompass large swaths of what would be suburbs in other capitals, voters on the urban fringes, who are particularly attached to their vehicles, cast ballots with a vengeance. For many older Berliners and easterners who grew up under communism, cars remain a symbol of independence, freedom and status.
Against that backdrop, the new government began by axing a high-profile pilot project to pedestrianise a short stretch of Friedrichstrasse, the main shopping street in east Berlin.
More recently, it announced plans to shrink budgets for bike lanes and pedestrian safety in 2026 and 2027, after already slashing the amount previously earmarked.
Funds for measures including safer paths to schools and upgrades to pavements will more than halve to €2.6m (£2.29m) from €5.4m. Financing for speed cameras will also fall in the same period and subsidies for bike sharing could disappear entirely.
Meanwhile, residential parking permits have been capped at just over €10 per year since 2008 – far below the administrative costs incurred to issue them and less than the cost of a 24-hour metro ticket.
In September the speed limit on more than 20 busy streets rose from 30km/h to 50 km/h when it was determined that emission-reduction targets had been met. After an outcry, the city’s top transport official, Ute Bonde of the CDU, said her hands were tied. “If I don’t have a reason to set out 30 km/h then I’m not allowed to because that’s what German [federal] law stipulates,” she said.
This month, the city announced – to great fanfare – a plan to help absorb emissions by planting 500,000 trees in the next 15 years, taking the total number to 1m by 2040, at a cost of €3.2bn (£2.8bn). However, experts were quick to point out the irony that rigid road laws may stand in the way, requiring zoning permission for each new sapling.
“I think if we’re talking about this new wave of sustainable transport measures that we see in many cities across Europe, then definitely Berlin is not following those and even working in the other direction,” said Giulio Mattioli, a transport researcher at the University of Dortmund.
He said Berlin seemed content to pursue an idea of progress rooted in decades-old visions of urban development. “I have the impression that Berlin is trying to catch up with what cities like Paris and London were doing in the 80s and 90s, like completing a ring of motorways,” he said, referring to the controversial and costly bid to finish the A100 autobahn encircling the city.
Berlin reunified in 1990 after the fall of the wall and Mattioli said it was as if the city decided it needed to catch up and do things it thought were the hallmark of a modern capital.
“Among the elites there’s still something of that mindset, while in those other cities things have moved on,” he added, after Berlin had reached saturation point with car traffic.
after newsletter promotion
A CDU transport expert, Johannes Kraft, counters that the pendulum has swung too far away from motorists, noting the city’s roads and bridges are in desperate need of repair.
“The goal is to renovate and expand infrastructure for all modes of transport,” he told a recent public hearing. To all those “who still believe that Berlin can be supplied by cargo bikes,” he made clear: “The car belongs in Berlin. We’re making sure the city functions.”
The remark was a swipe at Green party proposals to subsidise climate-friendly cargo bikes and at the stereotype of parents in wealthy central districts, such as Prenzlauer Berg, zipping around on expensive models with their kids and bags of organic groceries.
The most recent flashpoint has been the redevelopment of Torstrasse, a 2km-long thoroughfare dating back to the 18th century. As a key east-west traffic artery and a lively neighbourhood of bars and restaurants, it symbolises the competing priorities of Berlin’s road networks.
In a complex redesign, dozens of mature trees will be felled, the pavement cede ground to accommodate a bike lane, and parking spaces restricted to leave four lanes of traffic largely unperturbed. The plans have already triggered protests and angry confrontations at community meetings.
On a recent balmy afternoon on a busy Torstrasse, Berliners voiced their frustration with the direction of traffic in their city.
Giuseppe Amato, who owns an Italian restaurant, said once the plans were realised, his hemmed-in sidewalk terrace would only be able to accommodate 12 people versus 40 today.
“How am I supposed to do business?” he said. “They’re going to make it boring, that’s my biggest fear. My guests want to sit outside and watch the world go by – it’s like a cinema here.”
Carina Haering, 39, a teacher at a technical college, said she wished there was a political will to try thinning out vehicle transport through a bustling part of town.
“I know people in Barcelona in the beginning weren’t thrilled either,” she said, referring to its “superblocks” project introduced a decade ago to restrict traffic in the city centre. “But then they noticed how much quality of life can be gained. It’s 2025 – it’s time to think about it here too.”
