Reichstag: The Crown Jewel of Germany's Democracy

As soon as we decided to visit Berlin in 2024, a guided tour of the Reichstag became top priority - and for good reason. With its striking architecture and eventful history, the Bundestag is more than just a building. It has witnessed the rise and fall of empires, the devastation of war and the triumph of reunification. Its glass dome today shines as a symbol of transparency and democracy, standing tall over a city that has lived through some of the 20th century’s most turbulent chapters. We had to visit this historical and political monument.

With over three million visitors each year, booking ahead is essential. Tupur handled the online reservation in early July for our September visit. After we provided the list of visitors, a confirmation email outlined everything we needed to know for a free guided tour at 5:00 pm on 16 September - from entry requirements to rules of conduct to possible dome closure due to security or weather conditions.

We arrived at the welcome centre for the visitors, which is located in Scheidemannstraße, next to the West Portal of the Reichstag. As advised by the confirmation email, we reached half an hour early to complete the identity and security checks. The line was long but orderly. Once the checks were done, we were handed some lanyards with two letters supposedly denoting our tour type and language. Ours read 'HF' - we couldn’t figure out what they meant, but they did lead us perfectly to the English-language tour. The entrance hall staff ushered us to the ground-floor foyer of the parliament building.

After a brief wait, our guide came and greeted us at 5:00. She went through standard housekeeping before starting the tour with a historical account of the building. The German parliament first opened in 1894 under Kaiser Wilhelm II, who famously disliked sharing power with his people and rarely returned there after the inauguration. Decades later, in 1933, the Reichstag Fire provided Hitler the perfect excuse to consolidate his grip on Germany, marking the beginning of a dictatorship that would devastate the world. The building itself stood scarred through the Second World War and the Cold War, located perilously close to the Berlin Wall. It wasn’t until after the reunification of Germany that the German government decided to return the parliament here. At that point, after a stiff international competition, British architect Sir Norman Foster was commissioned the task of reimagining the Reichstag for modern democracy. Mr Foster's work resulted in the iconic glass dome that now crowns the building.

Reflection and Prayer Room

We first went to a room with an assortment of unique furniture and artworks with lots of nails. The furnishings included a sandblasted granite altar, wooden chairs and seven wooden panels leaning against the walls. Tucked away within the Reichstag, this unique space is named the Reflection and Prayer Room, the brainchild of German artist Günther Uecker. The artist was tasked with the creation of a peaceful retreat in the heart of German democracy. This non-denominational space welcomes people of all faiths - or none at all - to pause, breathe, and reflect amidst the intensity of politics. Uecker’s minimalist design, marked by textured walls and soft, meditative light, encourages silence and contemplation. Far from the grandeur of the debating chamber or the glass dome, this intimate room embodies a quieter symbolism: the value of inner peace and unity. For visitors, it is a reminder that democracy also thrives on reflection and humanity.

Red Army Graffiti in the Reichstag

In the next room, we saw unusual writing etched on the walls - graffiti left by the Red Army in 1945. These markings seem random scrawls; however, they have far greater significance. This Cyrillic graffiti is a living trace of the final, desperate days of the Second World War. Some inscriptions are names; others are short messages from soldiers happy simply to have lived through the war. They scratched into stone the memory of their presence, their hometowns, and their regiments. The final assault ended on May 9, 1945, a date still celebrated in Russia as Victory Day.

Our guide mentioned that for decades, these markings were hidden - panels and whitewash covered the graffiti. As Germany turned away from its wartime past in silence, families avoided painful conversations and children grew up not knowing what their fathers had done in the war. Much later, the nation began to uncover and confront its troubling history, allowing the original inscriptions to be seen again.

This graffiti in the Reichstag stands as a raw reminder of war’s brutality and its political aftermath. It stands as both a symbol of Soviet triumph and a difficult chapter in German memory. It takes much courage and maturity for a nation to admit its inglorious past, and I cannot think of any other nation that has preserved its darkest hours with this kind of openness, and that too, in a government building. Today, the graffiti remains, not as vandalism, but as testimony: a moment when history shifted, a memory created by the very soldiers who brought Nazi rule to an end.

Clocks, Clocks Everywhere

While walking down the long corridors of the Reichstag, we noticed several clocks with two dots that looked like lights, one white and the other red. Initially, we didn't think much of them. But when we started seeing more clocks, almost everywhere - in every hall, corridor, and even in the restrooms, we started paying attention. Sensing our curiosity, our guide mentioned that the clocks served a practical purpose: keeping the parliamentarians on time. When a debate ended, the white light on the clocks began blinking, signalling to the members that they had 30 minutes to return to the chamber for a vote.

The lights also indicated what kind of vote was taking place. White meant a regular vote was about to begin, and red indicated a headcount vote, used when the majority wasn't clear. Red and white alternating confirmed a personal vote, usually reserved for especially controversial issues, such as the legalization of cannabis. In this case, every member must cast their own ballot using personalised voting cards: red for 'no', blue for 'yes' and white for 'abstain'.

The Archive of the German Members of Parliament

We descended to the Reichstag’s basement and were led through a narrow passageway. On both sides, there were boxes all the way to the ceiling. At first, we thought they were mailboxes, but we were way off the mark. It was, in fact, French artist Christian Boltanski’s haunting yet evocative installation, the Archive of German Members of Parliament. The dim corridor glowed faintly under carbon filament lamps, casting shadows over 5,000 rusted metal boxes stacked like a wall. The boxes bore the names of the elected representatives from 1919 to 1999, and one solitary black box represented the 'black years' without democracy. Walking through this hushed passage, we felt history pressing in. Boltanski’s work, preserving history and remembrance in metal, transformed the Reichstag into a living memorial, possibly to reflect on the fragility and resilience of democracy.

Echoes of History beneath the Reichstag

We walked through the underground passage that links the Reichstag to the Jakob Kaiser Building. It felt like stepping into a living museum. The bright corridor, lined with white walls and historic photographs, carried the weight of stories that shaped Berlin and the world.

Our guide paused at a striking image of Willy Brandt, then Mayor of Berlin, standing near the Wall that once split the city. Just behind him, history unfolded on June 26, 1963, when U.S. President John F. Kennedy declared, 'Ich bin ein Berliner'. It was a defining Cold War moment, a pledge of solidarity with West Berlin living in the shadow of division.

Another photograph drew our attention - a young Angela Merkel, newly elected to parliament. Who could have foreseen that this quiet academic with a PhD in Quantum Chemistry would become Germany’s first female Chancellor, holding office for sixteen years and shaping European politics with her calm, deliberate style? Her presence there was a powerful reminder of patience, intellect, and resilience in leadership.

The passage also preserved something more haunting: a fragment of the original heating tunnel, believed to have been used by those who set the Reichstag on fire in 1933. Time has scarred it, but its survival stands as a stark symbol of the trials this building endured and overcame.

Party Room and the Plenary Chamber

We took the lift to the party rooms, where our guide explained to us the workings of modern German democracy. With 733 members at the time of our visit, the Bundestag is the world’s largest democratic parliament. Among the five major parliamentary groups represented, the largest is the Social Democrats (SPD). We stepped inside the SPD party room, where members gather each Monday and Tuesday during session weeks to debate pressing issues - for example, healthcare, migration and defence - aiming for a unified stance before public sessions.

We were told that parliamentary life, in general, followed a steady rhythm. Over a four-year term, about 800 draft bills would emerge from these closed-door discussions. By midweek, the focus would shift to 25 parliamentary committees, where experts from across the spectrum would refine each draft. Every bill would then go through three readings in the plenary hall, with debates and amendments at every stage, before being reviewed by the Federal Council and finally signed into law by the President to ensure constitutional compliance.

From the party room, we headed to the visitors' gallery of the Plenary Chamber. Underneath us, directly below the iconic glass dome, was the Plenary Chamber - a striking semi-circular hall lined with bright purple seats, a design symbolising openness, equality, and the spirit of debate. Suspended by steel cables against a glass wall was a massive metallic eagle - the emblem of the Federal Republic. We couldn’t help but marvel at the vast space and the elements that made it special.

The Glass Dome: Walking through Light

We took the lift one last time, rising to the rooftop terrace where the Reichstag’s most iconic feature awaited - the glass dome. At the base, there was an exhibition on parliamentary history. We had a brief look but decided to move ahead with our long-cherished goal: taking the famous spiral ramp all the way to the top of the glass dome.

Gradually, we ascended as Berlin slowly revealed itself—Brandenburg Gate, Tiergarten, and the Spree glimmering below. The higher we went, the broader the view became, until we reached the very top and were rewarded with a breathtaking panorama of the city. Standing there felt symbolic - history embracing us, democracy holding us up, and an open, light-filled future stretching towards the horizon. It was surreal.

After spending some time enjoying the magnificent view and absorbing the atmosphere on top, we descended through a different spiral ramp. On our way, we noticed the dome’s extraordinary centrepiece: a vast inverted mirrored cone. Designed by Sir Norman Foster, it channels natural sunlight directly into the parliamentary chamber, reducing the need for artificial lighting and enhancing energy efficiency. We kept marvelling at its beauty and functionality.

Our tour ended when we returned to the base of the glass dome.

We learnt a great deal about German history and politics. When the populist political leaders are promoting divisive policies as opposed to progressive, inclusive and environmentally-friendly legislation, the Reichstag stands firm as a stark contrast. By accepting the inglorious past and the criticisms that followed and by not sugarcoating the harshest of truths, they foster honesty and truthfulness in political life. Their attempt to nurture healthy impersonal debates leading to a better outcome for the voters is remarkable. The architectural marvel of the dome that sits on top of the plenary hall reminds the parliamentarians of the watchful eye of the public who voted them in. Intimidating, some might say, but a transparent approach, both literally and figuratively. One of a kind, indeed.