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November 1994
Interview by Andrea Schulte-Peevers

The fighting Spirit of Eric Braeden
MOST AMERICANS KNOW HIM as Victor Newman, the handsome leading man on the
daytime soap The Young and the Restless. But many will be surprised to learn that actor Eric
Braeden began life as Hans Gudegast. Born in 1941 in war-time Kiel, he still remembers being
taken to the basement every night during the Allied bombing raids. After the war, change came
slowly to economically depressed northern Germany. “Post-war Germany was a tough place to
grow up,” claims the actor, whose most painful experience in life has been losing his father at
age 12. In 1959, fresh out of high school, he turned his back on the provincial atmosphere of his
hometown, booked a one-way passage on an ocean liner, and sailed for America in search of
adventure and opportunity.
After stints as a cowboy, university track star, and lumberjack, Gudegast landed in Hollywood
and soon captured his first part as a Nazi rogue in the 1963 film Operation Eichmann. Six years
later, after hopping from one villain role to the next (most notably that of Captain Dietrich on the
1960s TV series The Rat Patrol), he was offered the lead in The Forbin Project. The one
condition was that he Americanize his name; “no one with a German name would star in an
American Picture,” Braeden was told. Reluctantly, Hans Gudegast became Eric Braeden, in
memory of Breadenbek, a village near Kiel. Other movie roles followed before he made the part
of Victor Newman his own some 14 years ago.
On the day of our interview, Braeden had just finished taping 40 pages of dialogue for an
upcoming episode of the soap. Exhausted, he stretched his lanky frame out on the dressing room
sofa. He looked like he needed a couple of weeks of R and R. But Braeden, a devoted boxer,
knows how to call up deep reserves of strength when he’s on the ropes. When the conversation
turned to the image of Germans in America, lethargy quickly gave way to intensity.
A man of depth, intelligence, and sensitivity, Braeden’s concerns go well beyond the personal
level. As co-founder of the German-American Cultural Society (GACS), he has dedicated
himself to promoting an accurate and fair portrayal of Germans and Germany in the American
media, as well as to encouraging dialogue between Jews and Germans. For his continuous
efforts in this area, he was appointed to the German-American Advisory Board, joining Henry
Kissinger, Alexander Haig, and Katherine Graham. In 1991, he was awarded the Federal Medal
of Honor by then German President Richard von Weizäcker, whom Braeden greatly admires, for
“his courage and moral leadership.”
The 53-year-old actor talked to German Life about his frustrations and hopes, the roots of the
recent rise of anti-Semitism in Germany, the need to identify with one’s country, and what being
German means to him.

GL: You have spent most of your life in America, yet you never stopped identifying as a
German. What prompted you to found the German-American Cultural Society?
Braeden: I founded it because I’ve been very angry about the way we are misrepresented in
this country by the media.
GL: How do you define that misrepresentation?
Braeden: The image of Germans, almost exclusively, relates to the Second World War,
relates to the Nazis. It’s as if Germans did nothing else but put people into concentration camps
and fight these wars.
As a German of the post-war generation, I resent being identified with the Nazi period. I
resent being presumed to be of the same attitude as that crazy Austrian private with his insane
racist attitudes named Adolf Hitler. (This identification) dehumanizes me. It has done to me
what the Nazis did to the Jews. Germans are being dehumanized. We may be good mechanics
and good brewers of beer, but we’re never represented as full human beings. And it’s that which
I resent deeply.

But I want to be very specific about this: my anger does not reach the point where I become
revisionist, where I deny what happened. There are some here who do, to my dismay. By
denying those things you only make it worse.

GL: How do you counter these misconceptions and misrepresentations through the GACS?
Braeden: The way the GACS tries to incrementally do this is by engaging in dialogue. I
know when I meet a Jewish person or anyone else who is not from Germany, they will
immediately have certain presumptions about me. And I understand that. I say, ‘All right. I
know what you think of me, but now let’s sit down and talk.’
I personally believe that if we don’t do that, we run the danger of allowing stereotypes about
each other to be perpetuated. Therein lies an enormous danger. We must discover what we have
in common as human beings. We must not be separated because of some stupid ethnic
perceptions.
That is what I’m fighting. I know it’s a hopeless battle because certain images are being
perpetuated all the time. But I’m a defiant bastard. I tell people straight from my heart how I
feel about it.

GL: What should Germans do to reach out to the Jewish people?

Braeden: I think it is incumbent on us Germans to always be the ones who proffer the
conciliatory act. We can’t expect that to come from others who have suffered because of the
Nazi leadership’s decision to start a Second World War.
I know there’s a sentiment among lots of Germans to say, ‘Enough is enough. I don’t want to
discuss it.’ I understand that sentiment. However, what I always ask those Germans to do is to
put themselves in the shoes of an entire ethnic group that Hitler tried to destroy totally. If I had
been part of that ethnic group, I would probably be angry forever.
I’m not blaming Germans of that time for having followed Hitler initially. What I’m saying is
that everyone was had. I’m absolutely and thoroughly convinced that the vast majority of
Germans would never have allowed to happen what happened in concentration camps.
However, how do you as a German today convince someone who is not German of that?
Because all you see in the media are stories that indicate that the Germans knew all along. Of
course they knew about anti-Semitism. They knew that a lot of people disappeared in
concentration camps, not only Jews but Germans as well. But the way Schindler’s List – an
excellent film – extrapolates one particular issue of World War II and now puts it onto the front
pages as if (the extermination of Jews) was the main concern of the German people…It was not!
It simply was not.
When the German people found out in 1945 what really happened, I’m absolutely certain, I
know that the vast majority was aghast. In other words, it’s not only that Hitler pulled the wool
over the eyes of countries who fought us eventually. I think the German people, too, were had,
were raped in the worst way.

GL: Anti-Semitism is back on the rise in Germany and finding supporters among all age
groups. How big is the problem and what should be done about it?
Braeden: It’s a many-sided problem that not only emanates from those who are incorrigibly
racist. It also emanates from those who feel that nothing they do is ever good enough. A lot of
resentment among Germans comes from the absolute unwillingness – on the part of the Allies
and on the part of Jewish groups – to embrace my generation of Germans which has done
everything possible to make good.
And don’t give me that shit that you can’t ever make up for it. (Since the end of World War
II) Germany has always been conciliatory – to America, to Israel, to everyone. But if you stretch
out your hand often enough and you get beaten each and every time, you eventually pull it back
in defiance and say, ‘to hell with it.’ And therein lies the danger.
And that, I tell Jewish groups, you must become aware of. Don’t just always cry about how
bad Germans are. You must at one time or another recognize what my generation has done.
Appreciate it, say something good about it, don’t just negate it.
What I have to tell Germans in the leadership is that it’s about time they developed a healthy
self-consciousness as to who they are. They’ve done great things in the Bundesrepublik. If
people attack us for not participating in the Gulf War, then you have the responsibility as a
German chancellor to say, ‘Wait a minute. The reason we’re not participating is because our
constitution does not allow us to participate militarily outside of German borders;’ this, too, is a
legacy of World War II. What do you think would happen if we sent German soldiers overseas?
Then you’d see a reaction.
We have to have leaders who are vociferous about this, who have backbone to say, ‘Don’t
constantly identify us with that 12-year period.’ That doesn’t mean that they have to be
nationalistic, that they’re Nazis. We have as much of a right to be proud of who we are as
anyone else.
When we look at America, we don’t constantly talk about the decimation of Indians or the
disgraceful treatment of Blacks. We don’t remind the English of excesses in their colonies. But
perhaps we should start to!

GL: You really are angry.
Braeden: Very. Because I hear it over and over and over again. Ad nauseum. (He sighs.)
You caught me at a time when I’m vulnerable, I guess. But I’m very passionate and very angry
about this.

GL: Other than anger, what’s the emotion that drives your personal commitment to
improving the German image? Is it quilt? Responsibility? Pragmatism?
Braeden: It’s not pragmatism. If I were pragmatic about it, I’d say, what do I care? I had
nothing to do with it. But the sins of the fathers are visited upon the sons. We are, in a sense,
victims of that period as well. What is sad about my generation is that, when we became
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conscious of who we were, we did not necessarily become conscious of our German-ness
unequivocally. We became aware of it with mixed feelings.
I think it’s very important for the psychological health of a human being to have identified
positively and unequivocally at one time with their country. You may later on become critical as
you look at things, as Americans do when they look at their own past. But we (Germans) never
grew up with that absolutely free, clear enthusiasm about where we were from. It makes us more
self-conscious, and it makes us very wary of expressions of patriotism and unbridled
nationalism.
GL: If there was one thing you’d like non-Germans to know about Germans, what would it
be?
Braeden: That we Germans have as many doubts, as many depressions, frailties, as many
human feelings as anyone else does. We may have a tendency to have a stiff upper lip
sometimes, but we are just as human in every respect as everyone else.

GL: You recently played tennis with George Bush and emceed an evening for Nancy Reagan.
Does that mean you’re involved a lot with Republican causes?
Braeden: When you ask me, am I mostly with Republicans, that’s not true. I’m respectful
and I’m trying to remain objective. I think one of the great malaises of the Western democracies
is the fact that people think of policy in polarized terms. That’s what’s happening in Germany
between the CDU and SPD. It’s a polarization that is artificial, resulting in the inability to solve
problems objectively and rationally. So if you ask me, am I SPD, CDU, Democrat, (or)
Republican, I will tell you, it really depends. What we must try to arrive at is the means by
which we avoid trying to solve problems from a narrow perspective of partisan politics.

Related Post

la times

LA TimesLA Times

Entertainment / The Arts / TV Listings
April 18, 1994
Interview by Libby Slate

From a ‘Rat’ to Playing ‘Young and Restless’ For the past 14 years, Eric Braeden has portrayed wealthy Victor Newman on CBS’ top-rated daytime soap opera, “The Young and the Restless.” A powerful, sophisticated and sometimes ruthless international businessman, his character has been involved for most of those years in a volatile, on-again, off-again relationship with ex-stripper and one-time wife Nikki Abbott, played by Melody Thomas Scott, and is now in love with blind farmer Hope Adams, played by Signy Coleman. Braeden came to the daytime series after a successful acting career in films and in prime-time television, including a starring role in the 1966-68 action-adventure series “The Rat Patrol” under his real name, Hans Gudegast. A native of Kiel, Germany, he was pressed to change his name upon landing a leading role in the 1969 Universal feature “Colossus: the Forbin Project,” when he says studio chief Lew Wasserman told him that no German actor would star in American films. Braeden had come to the United States about 10 years earlier after his high school graduation. Unlike his “Y and R” character, Braeden has been married to one woman, Dale, for 28 years and has a 24-year-old son, Christian, a UCLA Film School graduate. A lifelong athlete, he won the 1958 German Youth Championship with his team, the Rendsburger T.S.V., in track and field and the 1972-73 National Soccer Championship with a Los Angeles-based team, the Maccabees. In 1990, he co-founded the German-American Cultural Society to promote a positive, realistic image of Germans in this country and to advance German/Jewish dialogue.

Q: Daytime television is often compared to performing in Siberia, by actors and the entertainment industry at large. But you thrive on it. Why? A: Prior to my work on “The Young and the Restless,” I’d worked for 16 years in this town, mostly as a bad guy. I’d run dry. I think there was an enormous need in me as a German actor to show that we have feelings just like anyone else, that we have enormous conflicts just like anyone else, that we are very emotional people. I think that because of the dehumanizing effect of playing nothing but bad guys-and often, as it was in the very early parts, Nazis-there was an enormous need to connect with something in my work that had warmth, empathy, commiseration, that conveyed more positive feelings. I’m eternally grateful to this medium and specifically this soap for having given me that chance.

Q: Victor’s relationship with Nikki has registered an enduring appeal among viewers. Why do you think it has so captured their fancy? A: Arguably, it’s the idea of this incredibly powerful, wealthy man taking a woman who comes from the wrong side of the tracks into his life, and shaping her and forming her more to his liking. But, of course, no one can shape or form anyone-she remains who she is, has retained her strength, and that causes conflict. Those are the outward appearances. But what I think happens to us on screen is that she and I fight very well. When Mel and I have these emotional scenes, and there are many of them, something just clicks. I can’t explain it, except to say that you always hope to reach with an actor or actress some truth, some honesty, some reality, and in scenes with her I approximate that. And now I have that with Hope-Signy Coleman. I don’t know why that happens between some actors and not with others.

Q: “The Young and the Restless” celebrated its 21st anniversary last month.
It has been the No. 1-rated soap for the past five years, week in and week out. How do you account for that astonishing track record? A: Because (co-creator/senior executive producer) Bill Bell deals with basic emotions-love, hate, greed. Then he intertwines social issues in the stories that affect our lives in one way or another, be it alcohol, AIDS, divorce, teen-age pregnancy, teen-age marriage. So he taps into things people can identify with. Now, you embellish that by creating characters like Victor Newman, for example, who’s enormously wealthy and can call up his pilot any day to fly to Paris at the wink of an eye, and is mixed up with beautiful women. So you have what Hollywood has always provided: a visual pleasure but also a means by which the audience can identify with the characters’ emotional metamorphoses, conflicts and ups and downs.

Q: Unlike most soap actors, you also appear occasionally on prime-time television, such as a Perry Mason movie, the miniseries “Lucky/Chances” and, most recently, “The Nanny.” A: I usually do not do prime time, for a very specific reason. In the early 1970’s, a studio-and I won’t say who-summarily lowered its guest-star salaries by two-thirds. That, to me, was one of the most egregious affronts to actors. Agents cowardly acquiesced, and nothing was done about it. I still resent that situation and will not help perpetuate it. That’s one of the major reasons I’m doing the soap. I did “The Nanny” because I have great respect for (series star, co-creator and co-producer) Fran Drescher and the way she brought the whole thing about. And my wife thought it was a funny show.

Q: Your soap role is not your only outlet to communicate the fact that Germans are not the cold, heartless people that historically inspired stereotypes would hold. Why did you help create the German-American Cultural Society? A: I’ve listened for over 30 years to vilification of where I come from. The concept of Germany is usually synonymous with that 12-year period (surrounding World War II). I’ve always been deeply, deeply upset and angered by that, but it’s a kind of impotent anger, because what happened, happened. We are trying to have open dialogues between Germans and Jews. You openly talk to each other and discover what we have in common as human beings, not what differentiates us from a stupid religious point of view. We’ve talked about whether normal relations are possible, about German and Jewish contributions in America, present-day Germany, the consequences of reunification. What it really boils down to is this: Jews must not make the same mistake that was made about them. They were collectively and dismissively called “The Jews.” Don’t collectively and dismissively call us “The Germans.”

THOUGHTS ON BEING GERMANTHOUGHTS ON BEING GERMAN

FIRST DELIVERED IN SAN FRANCISCO FOLLOWING THE FALL OF THE BERLIN WALL

 

When I was accepting the invitation to speak at this Banquet, I began to ponder anew the question What is it like to be German, or German-American? How do I define my Germaneness? In personal terms, I have early memories of bombings and fires, of having to be carried frantically into a basement, of fear that gripped everyone at the sound of approaching Allied bomber squadrons that would inevitably unleash their destructive fury on cities and villages like mine, only to leave burning farms and screaming animals in flames in their wake.

 

I have memories of being hoisted onto the shoulders of my teenage brother so that I could see the city of Hamburg aflame after one of those devastating firebombings that left the city an inferno of which tens of thousands of civilians perished in one night.

 

I have memories of thousands of homeless and hungry people descending like desperate vultures, from devastated cities like Hamburg and Kiel, onto the countryside to frantically dig for any left over potatoes or kernels of wheat.

 

I have memories of Christmas Eve when my brother and I had to recite poetry to the local Santa Claus and sing “O Tannenbaum” and “Stille Nacht, Heilige Nacht” and only then could we turn to our presents, a pair of shoes perhaps, which would have to last until next Christmas.

 

I have memories of impromptu ice hockey games on frozen ponds and soccer games with pig bladders because we could not afford a real ball. Memories of a beloved father and hard school benches, of teachers who had come back from the Russian front with no legs and one arm, and great bitterness.

 

Memories of long hiking excursions on hot summer days, singing “Mein Vater war ein Wandersmann und mir liegt’s auch im Blut,” of secret rendezvous and adolescent kisses with my first love, Rosely, on country lanes. Of my mother saying, “Das koennen wir uns nicht leisten,” when my brother and I were coveting a pair of soccer shoes in the store window. Oh, when I think of my hardworking, proud mother and father, who experienced the two most cataclysmic and devastating wars in the history of mankind, and who each time had to start with nothing.

 

I remember Tanzschule, waltzing and doing the tango, and Elvis Presley, and Louis “Satchmo” Armstrong, and I remember leaving it all behind one day in May, when I was eighteen, while standing aboard the Hanseatic waving goodbye to my family while the orchestra was playing “Junge, Komm Bald Wieder”.

 

I remember the first sighting of the Statue of Liberty, the skyline of New York City, the sweltering heat, the frenetic hustle and bustle of white- and black- and brown-skinned people, of taking the Greyhound bus through Southern cities, where they had separate toilets and drinking fountain for whites and blacks, and where a genteel Southern lady expressed her love for castles on the Rhine and apfelstrudel, and asked me what I thought of Hitler, and I said, I didn’t and I hadn’t.

 

I remember fulfilling my childhood dreams of being a cowboy when I was in Montana and going to university there, and being asked, one day in a lecture on philosophy, in front of the whole class, how it was possible that a county that had produced Goethe and Schiller and Beethoven and Schubert could produce Hitler and concentration camps. I was eighteen then and couldn’t answer.

 

I remember the experience that left an indelible mark on my brain, and theretofore innocent German heart. It was in Los Angeles in a movie theater, where I saw a documentary of called Mein Kampf. I went to see it because its title promised something about Germany, and I was homesick. It showed scenes of concentration camps, goose-stepping soldiers, of Hitler kissing babies, corpses piled high in makeshift mass graves in concentration camps, of dead German soldiers standing frozen in the wind and the snow-swept steppes of Russia. It showed American soldiers liberating walking skeletons from camps.

 

It was then that I had lost my innocence, and no one was there to explain or quiet my deeply felt sense of anger, betrayal, and shame. Had my beloved mother and father been a part of that?

 

They just could not have, and yet I remember sending letters filled with anger and bitterness an inexplicable disappointment to my mother.

 

I remember later playing for a Jewish team called Maccabees. I fought hard for them, perhaps in vain hope of atoning for the sins committed by some members of my parents’ generation. I met Jews from Hamburg, a village in Hessen, from Cologne, Jews who had left in the thirties and who seemed more German in their old-fashioned ways and attitudes than I was. I met Jews who accepted me because I was too young, and Jews who did not accept me because I was German, and Jews who talked nostalgically of their favorite prewar soccer teams: Eintracht Frankfurt, or Dresden, or Hamburg or reminisced bitterly about the insidious ways of anti-Semitism. I met Germans who called me a traitor because I played for a Jewish team, and I remember an Israeli teammate who talked like a racist about blacks and was suspicious of me because I was German.

 

I remember my first agent in Hollywood, a Jew, who was kindhearted and helpful, and gave me my first break in this tough business of acting. I recall Americans coming up to me when I played Captain Dietrich on The Rat Patrol, saying, “I wish you Germans had wan the war, we wouldn’t have to worry about the damn Russians.”

 

I remember fighting with producers on how to play my role in The Rat Patrol. They wanted an eye patch and a limp so as to perpetuate the stereotypical image of a German soldier. I insisted on playing the Rommel-like figure as a human being with dignity because the German soldier of the Wehrmacht, who came back from the Russian front, was decent and brave and tough and fought for his country just like any other soldier. I remember a conversation with Curt Jüergens on the way to the theater in New York where I played his son in a Broadway play. He thought I should go back to Germany because in America I would play nothing but those damn Nazi roles, and I said it may take me a while, but I was determined to help destroy that caricature. I was determined to show that we were human beings with all the strengths and frailties, with all the feelings and thoughts, of any human being.

 

I remember my son coming home from grade school one day and telling me that he had been called a Nazi, and asking me what that meant. I remember my trying to explain something I had taken years to study and understand to a little boy.

 

I remember reading William L. Shirer’s Rise and Fall of the Third Reich, and Alan Bullock’s Study in Tyranny, and Albert Speer’s Inside the Third Reich, and the best book about that faithful period, Sebasian Haffner’s Anmerkungen zu Hitler (Anecdotes to Hitler).

 

I remember Simon Wiesenthal, during an interview, saying that the actual perpetrators of atrocities numbered about a hundred thousand, and Henry Kissinger say under no circumstances is the postwar German generation to be held responsible for Auschwitz. I remember admiration and respect of the German National Soccer Team, playing the World Cup in Italy. And then we became world champions. It was almost all too good to be true. Then came some editorials in the newspapers about the renaissance of German power and the caricature of Helmut Kohl as the new Hitler, and the many scathing remarks made by the cheap English press and character assassination by Margaret Thatcher and her cabinet, all warning of German power while bemoaning the loss of their own.

 

As a German, I wanted to shout out to the world “When will you ever stop talking about those damn twelve years? When will you ever give us credit for more than forty peaceful democratic years during which Germany has been an exemplary democracy, a loyal ally of the Western Alliance, an unwavering friend of both America and Israel, a patient initiator through its Ostpolitic with a Communist East, and a country that has opened it arms to more politically disenfranchised, the persecuted and hungry, than any other except perhaps America? When will you ever talk about and acknowledge the untold contributions made by German immigrants who toiled for you, America, as carpenters, farmers, mechanics, long-shore-men, doctors and nurses, coal miners, machinists, lawyers, surgeons and generals, teachers and scientists? When?” I ask.

 

Well, it will happen when we German immigrants and Americans of German descent start talking about it, and when we start addressing the issues that concern us, when we open our hearts and extend our hands to each other and to those who were wronged by another generation, when we became aware of our profound contributions to the success in freedom and democracy that is America.

 

For that purpose, a few friends of mine and I have founded the German American Cultural Heritage Society of Los Angeles. We want to preserve the histories of German Americans and their immigrant ancestors – be they Catholic or Protestant or Jew.

 

Our formerly divided Germany will become one again. Let us not forget Reagan, Bush, Baker and Mitterand, Kohl and Genscher, Gorbachev and Shevardnadze who made the seemingly impossible a reality, and the thousands of brave East Germans who courageously cried out for freedom.

 

Because of our historical legacy, we Germans have a profound responsibility to be tolerant of others and to cooperate as equal partners in this world of many peoples. Tonight, let us remember the many positive contributions the Germans have made to mankind.

 

What does it mean to be German? It means that we are part of a community of mankind with a specific and complex heritage, and I am proud of that heritage. Thank you.