Birth from the rubble: path and change of the “Süddeutsche Zeitung” – your SZ

It was a birth from the rubble. The editorial and publishing building on Sendlinger Strasse is a ruin, the only printing press is old and rickety, making phone calls is almost impossible, and there was hardly any paper. In the midst of poverty and chaos, five months after the end of World War II, a new newspaper appeared in Munich on October 6, 1945 Southgerman newspaper. “We’re starting on a narrow platform with few resources and are thus reflecting the general situation,” said “Zum Geleit” on page one at the top left, before continuing more optimistically: “We believe that in the not too distant future we will also reflect the gradual rise will.”

The confidence that spoke from these words has accompanied the newspaper from day one and made its wondrous development possible in the first place. When the American occupation officers of the Süddeutsche Zeitung, which soon became known under the abbreviation “SZ” and issued license no. 1 for Bavaria, Colonel Bernard B. McMahon thought it could become “the most important newspaper in the new Germany”. In March 1946, US press officer David Davidson, enthusiastic about the editions that had appeared up to that point, wrote that Southgerman newspaper should be “world-famous like that Manchester Guardians and the New York Times” will.

That was a requirement.

But it took a while for the SZ to make a name for itself outside of Germany. What the buyers initially got their hands on for 20 pfennigs was two to six pages two to three times a week. The occupation authorities did not allocate more paper. The first SZ printing plates were cast on October 6, 1945, of all things, from the melted-down original typeface of Adolf Hitler’s “Mein Kampf”. Of course, this was done with symbolic intent; it was intended to demonstrate the dawn of the new, democratic era.

An editorial team with a strong sense of self-confidence and skepticism towards any kind of authority

Initially, however, the shadows of the past also accompanied the start of the new editorial team, which, after twelve years of Nazi dictatorship and a lack of freedom of the press, was aware “that it is worth fighting for freedom,” as Werner Friedmann, who later became editor-in-chief, wrote. The editors were a mirror of society. There were people in it who were skeptical about the Nazis or even actively opposed them. There were followers and there were former Nazis who tried to make people forget their past or actively covered it up. These included Franz Josef Schöningh, one of the founding publishers, and Hermann Proebst, editor-in-chief from 1960 to 1970.

Being born in the “capital of the movement” was never a burden for the SZ, but always an obligation. She has always seen herself as a staunch advocate of democracy, the republic and pluralism. Over the decades, the majority of the editorial staff have defined themselves as “liberal” to “left-liberal”, whatever that may mean today. This liberality was and is paired with pronounced self-confidence and a dash of skepticism towards any kind of authority – regardless of whether it is chancellors, presidents, ministers, CEOs, managing directors, publishers or editors-in-chief. So it regularly happens that politicians who think that the SZ should actually find them particularly great are disappointed at how ungrateful and critical this nagging newspaper from Munich is about their work.

The SZ is mostly skeptical about the status quo. If it’s black, the skepticism applies to the blacks, if it’s red-green, the greens and the reds, if it’s black-red, the blacks and the reds, and if it’s red-green-yellow, then everyone three. And because the CSU has been in power in Bavaria for so long, a number of SZ commentators and reporters have tended to be critical of the CSU over the years. Criticism means nothing else than looking closely. Incidentally, the current spokesman for the Bavarian state government is also a former SZ editor; the range of political beliefs in the SZ editorial team is therefore wider than those criticized may sometimes assume.

Correspondents are important to be authentic

The Munich and the Bavarian were always important to the newspaper. Not in the sense of being homely, but because this is where their roots lie. the southern german was initially – despite the claim of their American sponsors, like the New York Times or the Guardians to become – primarily a local newspaper. This only changed after a few years, when it also grew significantly in scope. In 1977 the local editions for the region were added, and in 1992 the Bavarian edition with a detailed local and Bavarian section was followed by its own federal edition, which only contained information from Munich and the Free State in a slimmed-down form. This did not lead to great enthusiasm everywhere, because people from Munich who live in Hamburg or people from Starnberg who live in Berlin want more Munich and Bavaria in their and his SZ. It is not easy to make a newspaper that gives everything to everyone.

“Born in Munich, at home in the world” was soon more than just an advertising slogan for the SZ. It expanded its reporting from the rest of the republic and abroad, and so gradually the miracle of ascent to a national, then national, and finally also internationally significant newspaper succeeded. Today, the SZ has one of the densest networks of correspondents of any major newspaper in Europe and beyond. How important this is can be seen every day, especially in Ukraine. To be authentic, to stand for credible information, to be able to verify claims, requires that you are on the spot – and that you have knowledge, knowledge, experience about a country and the people there.

The SZ correspondent was in Kyiv on February 24 when Vladimir Putin’s army invaded the Ukraine and was able to report from his own experience how the people in the Ukrainian capital experienced the beginning of the war. And if the SZ hadn’t had several excellent correspondents in the USA, its readers would not have received an eyewitness account of the historic storming of the Capitol in Washington on January 6 last year, with the help of which Donald Trump hoped to remain in office despite being voted out be able.

Which means “author newspaper”.

To this day, what makes the SZ what it is and what sets it apart from its national competitors are its authors. Hans Ulrich Kempski, chief reporter from 1949, and Joachim Kaiser, critic and chief editor in the feuilleton from 1959, established the reputation of the “author’s newspaper” with outstanding texts; In 1971 Herbert Riehl-Heyse joined as a reporter. His wit, his irony, his powers of observation and his subtle way of writing served as a role model for entire generations of journalists and continue to shape the work and self-image of the editorial team. Most of today’s SZ authors see themselves in the tradition of Kempski, Kaiser or Riehl-Heyse and have won many fans among readers in this way.

Anyway, the readers. They have become more demanding in the digital age. “The newspaper” has long been much more than the printed paper that is delivered to your home or available at the kiosk. Today they read southern german more people than ever before. There are around 1.3 million per issue of the printed newspaper, plus 1.6 million who use the SZ’s journalistic offering digitally every day, i.e. read it on their smartphone, computer or tablet – quite a few of them in countries where the printed newspaper is available SZ is not for sale at all.

Readers no longer just want to read and maybe write a letter now and then. In the digital age, they have become recipients who are happy to slip into the role of the broadcaster themselves, who want to question and criticize their newspaper and editors and give their direct feedback. That makes journalism more strenuous, but also more transparent and better – at least when the criticism doesn’t come from extremist swaggerers or from people who don’t believe “the media” anyway.

Today, many people in New York can say the word “Süddeutsche” fluently

The SZ has perhaps changed the most in recent years through the expansion of investigative research. the Southgerman newspaper is not the New York Times and not the Guardians become, but a leaf sui generis. But she has attracted just as much attention with some of her stories as these two papers, regularly works closely with them on major research and has managed to get the name “Süddeutsche”, which is actually unpronounceable in English, French and Spanish, published in New York, London, Paris or Buenos Aires comes easily, fluently and with respect to some today’s lips.

Open detailed view

Whether Panama Papers, Paradise Papers, China Leaks, Lux Leaks, Swiss Secrets, the Pegasus project or the Ibiza affair – the SZ has always caused a stir with its research, also internationally. Each time, colleagues from several media outlets, mostly internationally, worked together to explore something that one editor would never have been able to do alone. Investigative journalism often unearths relevant, exclusive, sometimes explosive things. Stories emerge that count, that differ from what other newspapers or media do. In other words, they create identity. This is exactly where the SZ’s strength and future lie: in special, outstanding texts – the clever analysis, the pointed opinion piece, the “side light” that makes you smile, the captivating or entertaining reportage, the exclusive research. Whether the text is read or published on paper, a smartphone or tablet is of secondary importance.

The prudence of readers and publishers

If there are still savvy publishers, who know that such journalism costs money and requires an investment in it, and readers who appreciate this journalism and are willing to pay for it, there is reason for extraordinary confidence. Then in 77 years it will again be a special edition Süddeutsche Zeitung give. Perhaps this will appear then, on the threshold of the new millennium, on October 6, 2099, just like that New York Times and the Guardians but only digitally – or in a completely different form of administration, which we still have no idea about today.

None of the colleagues who made newspapers in the basement of Sendlinger Straße in October 1945 could have imagined that 77 years later the people would Southgerman newspaper would read on a phone with a screen. Nothing in journalism is as ephemeral as the status quo.