Love and S-E-X Rule Over Politics at Berlin’s Hedonistic Parade

A Viking in a G-string ran past a nearly naked woman adorned with angel wings as a man shimmying in black boots and a sequined miniskirt was sprayed with champagne Saturday in a thunderous din of techno music and rainbow-haired humanity known as the Love Parade.

More than 500,000 revelers -- stepping over broken beer bottles and drunken comrades -- danced, gyrated and skipped through this German city in a summer fling that has become one of the world’s most raucous and hedonistic parties. There’s a hint of a political message, a bit of social commentary, but mostly the Love Parade is a chance to tattoo your body, forget your inhibitions, jeopardize your hearing and go crazy for 24 hours.

“It’s the spirit, man,” said Jouri Bakker, a silver tiara glinting in his blue hair. “It’s crazy seeing so many people in the street dancing and having fun. It gives me an adrenaline kick. I don’t need drugs. It’s an outdoor party. It’s free. And that’s important. You get a rush of fun.”

The first Love Parade -- founded by a small band of techno-music enthusiasts, known as ravers -- kicked off with a crowd of 200 a few months before the Berlin Wall fell in 1989. A decade later, more than 1.5 million partyers paraded around the Victory Column in the shadow of the Brandenburg Gate. Attendance has dropped in recent years as the techno-music craze has ebbed and many have criticized the parade for becoming too commercialized. The 500,000 turnout Saturday was 250,000 fewer than organizers had anticipated.

The $1.7-million event was in danger of being canceled last spring when some record companies and other backers canceled funding. Enough corporate sponsors were recruited, but the future of the parade, which brings about $80 million into a bankrupt Berlin in a single weekend, is uncertain. Part of this year’s proceeds will be donated to building two rehabilitation centers for Iraqis injured in the U.S.-led war.

This parade’s motto: Love rules.

For some, that encompassed a passing interest to their opposition to U.S. foreign policy, terrorism and other geopolitical dangers. But it’s tough to get too serious about the world’s problems in an atmosphere where disc jockeys are spinning ear-splitting music as 30 floats -- draped with dancing men and women in various stages of undress -- roll past hundreds of thousands of people who are drinking beer, eating sausages and making out.

One man, however, did have a political message painted on the front triangle of his G-string: “Make Love, Not War.” He was wriggling his hips near two men wearing gas masks and a woman with Batman’s wings spray-painted on her breasts. Police stood back and smiled; the paramedics kept their stretchers ready along the Tiergarten, where six miles of fences were erected to prevent revelers from urinating on trees and having sex in the underbrush.

“It’s good to know what love means,” said Yulius Euli, a native of Bali, Indonesia, whose hair was spiky and green and whose skivvies were the color of many crayons. He walked past the Psycho Thrill float and waited for the most celebrated of techno DJs, Dr. Moth. “This is about harmony. This represents no discrimination. The people of the world are coming together.”

Yes, they were.

And some were more honest than others.

“Hey, we’re here to pick up girls,” said Thomas Oppelt, whose bare chest was spray-painted with the letter E. He stood between two of his buddies: S and X. It was a simple message, but the men, all from eastern Germany and parade veterans, said it worked. “The girls here are nice,” said Oppelt, “very nice.”

“This is the biggest party in the world!” yelled Roman Bruhn, letter S.

“We all come to party for one day,” said Mathias Giessler, letter X. “We love techno.”

When asked whether there was some deeper meaning to the Love Parade, the men, perplexed, looked at one another.

“George Bush is a fascist,” Oppelt said.

“Can you put that in a newspaper?” Bruhn asked.

They laughed, repositioned their wraparound sunglasses and started swaying as a float of young women drifted past.