The white smoke has settled in Rome, Pope Leo XIV has been elected as the 267th Holy Father of the Catholic Church, and Conclave has finally run out of free marketing. But for those of us still craving a little religious drama, there’s a lesser-known Berlin phenomenon that happens anytime the sun is out.
The Fernsehturm has towered over Berlin for almost 60 years, visible from nearly every corner of the city, a reminder of socialist ambition during the Cold War era. Built between 1965 and 1969 to commemorate 20 years of DDR rule, it was set to be a beacon of eastern modernity and progress. But history, as it so often does, had a sense of irony – a trick up its cassocked sleeve, you could say. In the decades that followed, the tower became famous for its height and Spargel-esque appearance, which briefly earned it the nickname Telespargel. But it’s also become known for an unexpected trick of light, inspiring another nickname: ‘Die Rache des Papstes’, or ‘The Pope’s Revenge’.
A shimmering orb, glaring defiantly at the capitalist West.
The TV Tower, which stands at 368 metres, remains to this day the tallest structure in Germany. At the time of construction, it was the third-tallest building in the world. Designed to broadcast television signals across East Berlin, it replaced the cobbled-together network of smaller towers that the city had been relying on. The DDR government, led by Walter Ulbricht, envisioned it as a crown jewel of socialist engineering, looming over the monotonous grey Plattenbau of Alexanderplatz. A shimmering orb, glaring defiantly at the capitalist West.
The Cold War undoubtedly left a lasting imprint on the city’s design, with monuments, buildings and public art reflecting the era’s defining obsessions – none more prominent than the Space Race. The DDR proudly displayed symbols of Soviet solidarity throughout the city, from the solar system on top of the World Clock at Alexanderplatz to the omnipresent Trabant cars. The design of the TV Tower was also influenced by the Space Race. Modelled after Sputnik 1, the first satellite ever launched into space, it was meant to remind the world of socialist achievements.
Even today,” he said, “when the sun strikes that sphere – that sphere that towers over all Berlin – the light makes the sign of the cross.
However, the architects failed to account for one small, yet pivotal, detail in their plans. As soon as the sun hit the 203-metre-high sphere, the light reflected off it in a surprising way: straight down the vertical axis and across the horizontal axis of the sky-high disco ball, creating the unmistakable shape of a cross. Visible from both sides of the Wall, the phenomenon became an ironic symbol in a state that had spent decades suppressing religion under Marxist-Leninist rule. It was a huge embarrassment for the atheistic East German leadership. Imagine Walter Ulbricht, gazing up at the gleaming crucifix, muttering a blasphemous, “Oh mein Gott” in disbelief. (Some Berliners even took to calling the tower St. Walter in his honour – yet another nickname).
The East German leadership tried everything to get rid of the cross. They coated the tower in chemicals and paint, shone spotlights towards the tower – but nothing worked. The reflection was here to stay and the Western press adopted the name ‘The Pope’s Revenge’.
In 1987, Ronald Reagan – never one to miss out on a Cold War PR op – stood beside Brandenburger Tor, giving his famous “Mr Gorbachev, tear down this wall!” speech. He made a point of mentioning the cross on the tower. “Even today,” he said, “when the sun strikes that sphere – that sphere that towers over all Berlin – the light makes the sign of the cross.”
Two years later, the Berlin Wall fell, bringing down the ideology that birthed the TV Tower. Yet for 35 years since, the tower has endured as a lasting symbol of the city. They say revenge is a dish best served cold – in this case, it came as a cold, metallic ball. Maybe even the pope of the time, Pope Paul VI, would have raised an eyebrow at the celestial irony. Seems the universe got the memo.
