Bahnhofviertel | Frankfurt: No answer to crack found yet

The burgers are huge, the beer expensive. The outdoor tables of the restaurants on Kaiserstraße are packed. The first May heat builds up in the streets. All the restaurant owners agree that it's a dream location with plenty of passing trade. Anyone wanting to get from Frankfurt Central Station to the skyscrapers has to pass through here. But this idyllic appearance is deceptive.

If you walk just a few streets further, you're immersed in a different reality. People camped out in doorways, scarred by hard drugs, barely responsive, always looking for money for the next fix, the next high. The drug scene has been a fixture in the neighborhood for 30 years. But it has changed. People used to inject heroin. Today, people smoke crack , a drug that is quickly addictive, has a short-acting effect, and requires a constant need for refills. This development presented the city with a new challenge.

The city developed the "Frankfurt Way" as a concept for dealing with the drug problem. After the city became the German leader in the number of drug-related deaths in the 1990s, it introduced a concept focused on counseling and prevention. It offered addicts consumption rooms, attempted to curb drug trafficking, and introduced therapy programs. The city hoped to dismantle drug hotspots. Measured by the number of drug-related deaths, this worked: it has plummeted. But the scene itself has grown and switched to crack, while at the same time, restaurateurs, hoteliers, and real estate speculators have discovered the Bahnhofsviertel district.

This causes conflicts that remain unresolved. One morning, just a block from the main train station, three women are standing in front of the entrance to a law firm on Niddastrasse, smoking cigarettes. "We heard about it from the newspaper. No one from the city has spoken to us," Annette Winckler complains. Yet, in her view, there's a lot to discuss: the city wants to buy a building nearby and set up a crack cocaine help center there. The city council decided this in mid-May. Twelve million euros for the purchase, with annual operating costs of five million euros – an investment that would have previously met with little opposition.

Just a few years ago, this would probably have led to little debate, given that all parties in city politics supported the "Frankfurt Way." But now the consensus on the "Frankfurt Way" is crumbling. In March, Minister-President Boris Rhein, a Christian Democrat, presented a seven-point plan in a guest article in the "Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung." In summary: the support facilities in the Bahnhofsviertel district are to be closed, and the drug scene is to be driven out by the police, with raids and arrests. Furthermore, medical and psychiatric care is to be improved. The Frankfurt city coalition of the SPD, Greens, FDP, and Volt was surprised by the move: drug policy is a matter for local authorities, they say.

In response to this criticism from Wiesbaden, the Social Democratic mayor, Mike Josef, presented his own perspective. He noted that 70 percent of drug addicts weren't even from Frankfurt; the city attracts them "like a magnet," even from more distant regions. Every city and every municipality would be overwhelmed, he said. Frankfurt would gladly delegate responsibility. He urged the surrounding municipalities to develop their own support services. And to finance them.

But there's nothing to suggest that the cities and municipalities in the surrounding area will do this voluntarily. Therefore, the Greens in the state parliament are demanding a law requiring municipalities to establish and operate these facilities. So far, however, the proposal has been unsuccessful. Neither the Hessian state government nor the municipalities in the Rhine-Main area see this as a problem. The reason for this is obvious.

"It's frustrating! You get someone to the point where they want to get rid of their addiction. And then you can't find an appointment with a psychiatrist or therapist."

Bülent social worker in the train station district

As soon as you leave Frankfurt Central Station by train, you're in the countryside. The greater Frankfurt area consists of many small towns and a few larger cities. There's no significant drug scene here. So what are we supposed to do with counseling centers and support services? Maybe the addicts come from there. But they're gone. In Frankfurt.

For the helpers on site, however, this debate about responsibilities is secondary. "If I have an addict, then they need help here," says Bülent, who works for an aid organization in the Bahnhofsviertel district. He would only like to give his first name. Because in the current tense atmosphere, every conversation with journalists is something that is carefully planned, together with the press officers, if there are any. He does not consider the proposal from Josef and the Greens to be practical. "We can't tell people that we are not responsible because they come from Darmstadt or Kassel." When the new drug help center was presented, Mayor Josef also announced that only people from Frankfurt would be cared for there. Police officers, street workers, and many commentators in the local press believe this is "unrealistic."

But the police fundamentally support this approach: "We hope this will significantly change the influx," said Vice President of Police Christian Vögele in mid-May, referring to the restriction of the new assistance program to those registered in Frankfurt. He was also able to report initial successes for the citizens and restaurateurs present at the dialogue forum: A census showed that the number of severely addicted individuals had fallen from 350 at the beginning of 2022 to 200 in the spring of this year. This is likely due to the fact that addicts were increasingly directed to existing support facilities after the pandemic. The restaurateurs present also reported a certain easing of the situation.

In everyday life, at six o'clock in the morning, people are queuing in front of the coffee stands at the main train station. They are on their way to work. In the middle of it all, a man in dirty clothes looks with some despair at the sandwiches in the display case and the coffee. He doesn't say a word, doesn't beg, doesn't speak to anyone. Only a short time passes before well-dressed people hand him coffee, water, and sandwiches. This, too, can be seen in Frankfurt's train station and the surrounding neighborhood: people helping those in poverty.

This solidarity also shapes the attitude of the residents. Although only around 4,000 people live in the half-square-kilometer-large train station district, their voices are important. Many of them repeatedly emphasize that drug addiction is a disease. The anger that some media outlets try to spread is not felt here. Many here are disappointed with the communication from the city government. The city government reacts slowly to suggestions from residents and business people and often fobs them off with empty phrases. One accusation is that they were not involved in the planning of the new drug help center. But there seems to be no dispute here that it is a good idea to get addicts off the streets and to consolidate services under one roof.

And at the same time, the measures fall short. Structural problems are becoming apparent in the Bahnhofsviertel district that are hidden elsewhere – more likely in the remote high-rise tower blocks. The lack of social housing means that the homeless remain without a home. The difficulty of finding doctors and therapists with available appointments prevents effective treatment for drug addiction – and the many illnesses it brings with it. "It's incredibly frustrating," says Bülent, the social worker: "You get someone to the point where they want to kick their addiction. And then you can't find appointments with a psychiatrist or therapist." This is precisely where his hopes for the new help center lie. He hopes that the new help center will also employ doctors.

One would have expected Minister President Rhein's seven-point plan to meet with widespread approval in the city, given that a law-and-order policy is currently enjoying considerable popularity. But not in Frankfurt. Raids and the distribution of support facilities throughout the city could lead to the drug scene moving into residential areas. Many also remember the 1990s, when the drug scene took over the Taunusanlage on the edge of the banking district. There was also a lot of drug dealing around the Zeil, Frankfurt's shopping mile. There were raids and attempts to break up the drug scene. It didn't work back then.

This experience shapes Frankfurt's current strategy, which includes the conversion of Kaiserstraße into a pedestrian zone. This is intended to make the Bahnhofsviertel more attractive and rid it of its bad reputation. But the drug scene and the associated crime are hardly visible on this central street in the district anyway. Young men wearing vests bearing the words "Ordner" or "Security" are intended to provide a sense of security.

However, some people are now specifically seeking out this wicked atmosphere, as conversations with tourists reveal: "I'm here to see Zombieland," says a young Brit; that's how a British tabloid described the area before the European Championships. Frankfurt's Bahnhofsviertel (train station district) has long since become an attraction. Even if no one in the city is likely to be happy about such voyeurism.

Ultimately, though, it's not about city marketing or political profiles. It's about people like the man who stands hungry in front of the bakery in the morning. It's about Bülent, who is frustrated in his search for therapy. It's about Annette Winckler, who wants more say. It's about the commuters who stream through the neighborhood every morning. They all share this half-square kilometer – and must find a way to live together.