Let's Learn to Love Germany, Daily Telegraph

Bettina von Hase, whose family is German, believes Euro-sceptics are wrong to see Europe's largest power as a threat to Britain.

It's the time of year when I visit my family in Germany. I see my father, who is always eager to be briefed on all the news from London, my home for the past 27 years. I wish I could tell him - because he is a great Anglophile that the British now see his country as an ally rather than an "enemy". But the reality is different.

Prejudice against Germans and Germany in Britain continues to run deep. My own experience is fairly typical, and I have always seen it as being a natural consequence of the horrendous legacy of Germany's past.

On my first day at first English school. I was an object of curiosity — one of the first Germans my classmates had ever met at such close quarters. They immediately asked me about the Second World War, and introduced me to two girls who had lost their grandparents in it. At another school, I was greeted on the first day with a Hitler salute by one of the boys; it was mortifying, but even more mortifying was that he was later punished.

But prejudice went right out of the window once I had made friends. In my experience, it is principally the war which fascinates the British. It comes up as a topic of conversation within half an hour of meeting almost anyone, in the form of a joke, a comment, a passing reference. Being German in Britain makes for a unique awkwardness that I have not encountered in other European countries.

Only the other evening I was sitting next to a British businessman who apologised, unconvincingly, for his national arrogance and then said he had not known any Germans until very recently; "They are really good-looking, so well-dressed and friendly..." He was obviously astonished not to have encountered jack-booted lager louts. His certainty about all things British is something the average German does not enjoy; feeling good about their nationality.

The feel-good factor in Britain, following Labour's victory, underlined this difference. Unlike Germany, Britain had a glorious legacy to bequeath — there is no complicated generation gap about its role in the war. At a very fundamental level, it wears its nationality proudly on its sleeve, and consistently underestimates German unease in that area.

The one time that Germans did experience the feel-good factor was during unification. It was a defining moment in a country's history. But Britain misread the speed with which it happened and, unlike the Americans, gave only grudging support when it did. It is perhaps not surprising that relations between the two countries have not been cordial since. Even now. Britain does not acknowledge the enormous economic and political challenges of unification, with the inevitable social tensions. They are a part of the unprecedented process of absorbing a bankrupt and totalitarian state, and not, as some British newspapers would have us believe, the marching footsteps of a superpower, ready to take over Europe.

The truth is that both countries have been struggling to come to terms with a crisis of identity. In Germany's case, it is the lack of confidence in itself as a nation which, however understandable in view of its history, appears disingenuous to its European partners. Helmut Kohl belongs to a generation that was deeply affected by the war; this is why he wants to create a European Germany, and not a German Europe. He has succeeded as a unifier of his own country, not as an aggressor. His wish to secure Germany irrevocably within the European structure is made in the same spirit.

Where Britain is concerned, the recent blustering and protesting about the European debate seems to mask an uncertainty about its post-imperial role in the world — the emotions stirred by the Hong Kong hand-over spoke volumes about this. Labour has now given all the signals that it is ready to face the challenges of the future; one of these should surely be to help build a Europe that works, in co-operation with its partners.

It is time to dismantle old-fashioned clichés and start afresh. Let's drop the spectre of the ugly German, used so effectively in the recent past as anti-European propaganda by large sections of the British press. Over the years its coverage of Germany has been up to scratch. Instead of constructive criticism, there is astonishing rudeness and lack of insight which does incalculable damage by enforcing negative stereotypes. It is often amusing, but it has distorted the portrayal of a country that is supposed to be an ally and partner.

The trickle-down effect will be beneficial to us all. The current chief culprit is lack of knowledge. The German contribution to world culture — in music, painting, literature, philosophy and even sports — has been stupendous, yet too few appreciate and even know about it. Most people in Britain don't speak German and have never visited Germany. The moment they do, their opinion usually changes for the better. Valuable youth exchanges and school projects are often a one-way street: German children seem keener to come to learn English than the other way round. The British education system could do far more in this respect. A recent survey of British schoolchildren revealed that the only famous German they could name was Hitler. It would be gratifying to think that, in the Britain of Tony Blair, they might mention Adenauer, Rilke or Becker.

Bettina von Hase is a media consultant and freelance journalist