The first Simson arrived in Italy in 1983. The symbols of regimes and the struggle for freedom

It was around 2 September 1983 when a Simson Schwalbe KR51 was spotted for the first time in Piazza San Babila in Milan – probably the first time it had ever been seen in an Italian city – the very model often ridden by Ulrich Siegmund, the AfD politician who won the elections in Saxony-Anhalt. Before 1989, around thirty of the well over a million produced in the German Democratic Republic were circulating in Italy. They were brought to our country by the very same person who, on that day, parked it, switched off the engine and revelled in the look of amazement in the eyes of his ‘paninari’ friends.

“The Simson Schwalbe KR51 was a rubbish moped,” Massimo Marelli tells Il Foglio. “It did, however, have four advantages: it was cheap, provided you could find one; it made a terrible racket; those were the years when being seen was a must; it was very easy to tune (modify, ed.); and then, above all, nobody else had one apart from me. And since nobody else had one, you could sell it for a fortune.” Massimo Michetti was 25 at the time; he worked as a mechanic, tuning mopeds. He had just returned from a campervan trip between Czechoslovakia and Berlin because, back then, “we were interested in two things: women and electronic music; and in West Berlin there was the best electronic music in Europe, whilst in East Berlin there were some semi-secret clubs that were absolutely brilliant”. He returned from that trip with a few memories of romantic escapades and many nights of electronic music, including a Tangerine Dream gig, and the first Simson Schwalbe KR51 ever seen in Milan. “I bought it for a song from a man who ran a delicatessen, but who, precisely because he ran a delicatessen, had the right connections with the police. And excellent connections at that, given that whilst negotiating the possibility of loading my Schwalbe onto the camper van and taking it to Italy, I struck a deal to do the same for another twenty or so. About twenty over four years, because production was what it was.’ Those twenty turned into about thirty over five years. Bought cheap, sold for a lot, ‘that’s the law of the market; it didn’t exist in the GDR, but thankfully it does here. All came with an export certificate stamped by the offices of the Ministerium für Verkehrswesen, the Ministry of Transport. I only discovered ten years ago that it was a fake stamp, though a well-forged one. For decades I was convinced I’d done everything by the book, bribing only the first policeman, but that wasn’t the case. It seems that East Germans weren’t quite so German after all,” he says.

Massimo Maretti still has his Simson Schwalbe KR51. “I had another one as well, but I sold it five years ago – a shame: with what’s happening in Germany, I could have made a thousand more from it,” he laments. Yet it isn’t just in recent months that the moped from the communist part of divided Germany has made a comeback. In Berlin they have become fashionable modes of transport; from Dresden to Stralsund, from Rostock to Leipzig, Simson mopeds have become sought-after – part hipster, part ‘Ostalgie’, that nostalgia for the German Democratic Republic. “Admittedly, it looks a bit odd on a far-right extremist.” This era is no laughing matter, but you have to hand it this: it has its own brand of irony. “Freedom, on the other hand, is complex – especially when it comes to managing it. Taking charge of one’s own destiny is complicated; that’s why some people feel nostalgic for historical monstrosities such as totalitarian regimes. I see it every day in my own home. My wife is Serbian, born and brought up under Tito. She discovered freedom in Italy, having fled the war. Now she wants to vote for Vannacci, a man who has more than a few issues with the concept of freedom. And this is coming from someone who’s always voted for Berlusconi, not the PD.”

Symbols of the past are strange things. “I’ve met people who lived in the GDR back when the GDR still existed. Friends from the electronic music scene who, at the time, said they detested Trabants and Simson mopeds, complained about how awful it was to be behind the Iron Curtain and envied our freedom. Those very same people—I’m still in touch with some of them—have bought themselves Trabants and Simson mopeds again and now vote for BSW. They encountered freedom, found it uncomfortable, and went back.” And so those vehicles they’d wanted to leave behind have become symbols of what they’ve lost and would like to have back. “And it’s not just them. Even the young people, who’ve been listening to the older generation. They’ve believed all this nonsense. Of course, I’m still a Paninaro through and through, but mine was a free choice – it was a matter of consistency or a lack of enthusiasm for new things.” He’s even kept his Simson Schwalbe KR51, which has come back into fashion thanks to the German far right. “That is strange too – just as it is strange that I, a great lover of engines, discovered cycling at the age of 50 and now only use a bike.”