Chainer Torchmoor, Germany
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Germany’s most peaceful landscape exists due to one of its most paranoid ones.
The Grünes Belt, a green belt that stretches for 1,360 kilometers along the former border between West Germany and communist East Germany, is now a swath of bogs rich in orchids, wetlands and birds.
It began as a fortified no-man’s land, lined with mines and patrolled day and night to keep the eastern population from escaping.
Walking around today, the Cold War feels incredibly distant. There are chirping birds, frogs and a boardwalk above the marsh orchids of Chainer Torfmoor.
However, this tranquility is only possible because people were once forced to stay home.
Today, the Chainer Torchmoor, or Chainer Heath, in the northern region of Lower Saxony and Saxony-Anhalt, roughly between Hamburg and Berlin, is one of the country’s most famous wetlands.
In spring and summer, a mosaic of moors, wetlands and swamp forests fills with the sounds of birds and frogs. From March to April, approximately 6,000 orchids, including the rare purple marsh orchid, bloom, adding color to the wetlands. A boardwalk means visitors can immerse themselves in the exhibits without damaging the flowers or the rich soil beneath.
This pristine biosphere has its solemn origins in the Cold War. From 1949 to 1989, it was part of the so-called Inner German Grenze (German Internal Border), the border between West Germany and the Communist German Democratic Republic to the east.
For the East Germans, it was a place of barbed wire, minefields, guard towers, and automatic firing devices, designed not to repel invaders but to prevent the population from escaping. East Germany’s militarized restricted zone, the so-called Superzone, was about three miles wide and stretched the length of Inner Germany’s Grenze, and was patrolled around the clock.
The regime called it the Anti-Fascist Schützwall (Anti-Fascist Protective Barrier), but its purpose was clearly to keep East Germans locked up.
Beyond the central strip, the outer approaches of the spell zone excluded settlements and civilian activities, creating a no-man’s land and inadvertently creating a nature reserve.
It was forbidden to approach the border with binoculars. But despite the dangers, the area quickly attracted the attention of birdwatchers from both sides.
Kai Froebel, who was born in 1959 in Hassenberg, about 200 miles south of Chainer Torfmoor, says: “We discovered that more than 90% of Bavaria’s rare or endangered bird species, such as winchchat, bunting and nightjar, can be found in the Greenbelt. The Greenbelt became, and continues to be, the last refuge for many species.”
Froebel is now a professor of environmental ecology, but he grew up in the shadow of the border and was an avid birdwatcher during the Superzoon era.
From a conservation perspective, the Iron Curtain has been a blessing, having happened to serve as a wildlife sanctuary for 40 years. It was no wonder, then, that in December 1989, a month after the fall of the Berlin Wall, Mr. Froebel initiated a meeting to discuss the future of the fortuitous nature reserve in Hof, another border town south of Chainer Torfmoor.
It brought together 400 conservationists from both sides of the border. This is where the name and concept of Grünesband was born. Participants unanimously accepted a resolution to protect it under the umbrella of the German Federation for Environment and Nature Conservation, also known as BUND. (Froebel then became the spokesperson for the Greenbelt project at the Bavarian branch.)
The first step to preservation was to establish what should be preserved. A formal survey of ecosystems and species along the Grünesbund began immediately and was carried out by ornithologists, botanists and entomologists on behalf of the BUND. In 2001, the German Federal Agency for Nature Conservation called for the creation of formal nature reserves in as many regions as possible. Although the intention was a Germany-wide ecosystem-linked system, the newly unified government preferred to return the land to its previous owners.
This backlash ended in 2002, when none other than Mikhail Gorbachev, the last president of the Soviet Union, became the first person to buy Greenbelt Stocks, a propaganda tool created by BUND, supporting the initiative. His support brought broader public support.
In 2005, German Chancellor Angela Merkel designated the Grünes Orchestra as part of Germany’s National Natural Heritage Site. This ensures that land still owned by the German government along the Greenbelt will be transferred free of charge to various regional states as nature reserves, paving the way for what Froebel and his colleagues voted for 16 years ago. In 2017, Froebel and Hubert Weiger, then president of the Nature Conservancy, received Europe’s most prestigious environmental award, the German Environmental Award, for their work.
Today, the Grünes Orchestra passes through six German states and covers the entire former border region. Connecting wetlands, forests, grasslands and river meadows, it is home to more than 1,200 rare and endangered insect and animal species and is Germany’s longest biotope network. It has been applied for inscription on UNESCO’s World Heritage List in 2024.
“We have to say why there are no borders today,” says Olaf Zimmermann, executive director of the German Cultural Council, which was instrumental in getting Germany on the UNESCO list. “That the people of East Germany were able to bring down this border in a peaceful revolution without a single shot being fired.”
Unfortunately, this interesting story does not mean that the Greenbelt is forever safe. It is largely protected, but politicians can also redefine its use. As happened in Hesse in 2024, local governments reduced the amount of land designated as nature reserves after protests from local authorities, hunting and farming associations.
For more than 10 years, BUND has been working with environmentalists and volunteer organizations across Europe to extend the Grünesbund beyond Germany and create the European Green Belt. This is a chain of biospheres that stretches approximately 13,000 miles from the Barents Sea to the Adriatic Sea to the Black Sea, along the borders of 24 former Cold War states.
Other former frontiers show why this idea is important. More than 100 rare species, including Siberian musk deer and Asiatic black bears, have taken refuge in the demilitarized zone between North and South Korea. The rare Cypriot mouflon and Eurasian golden snipe thrive in the 112-mile United Nations buffer zone that divides the island of Cyprus.
There is another, increasingly compelling rationale for turning border areas into nature reserves. It’s defense.
In response to Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, EU countries bordering Russia and Belarus are constructing border fences and fortifications, while the Baltic states are starting plans for a “Baltic Sea Defense Line,” complete with bunkers and anti-tank trenches, and using natural defenses such as swamps and rivers. Many experts in the Baltic states are also calling for additional peatland restoration.
Renaturalization not only provides defensive advantages; Restored wetlands can restore biodiversity, provide homes for endangered animals, absorb floodwaters and capture carbon dioxide. Drained swamps, on the other hand, release carbon and contribute to global warming.
“Biodiversity allows nature to ‘generate’ more adaptations to changing conditions,” says Katrin Evers, Biodiversity Project Manager at BUND. “Intact forests and wetlands retain water in their areas, so they can prevent flooding on the one hand and protect against drought on the other. They also filter water and provide shade. In other words, they ensure a degree of climate resilience.”
Back at Chainer Heath, a boarded-up East German watchtower covered in graffiti still stands among the orchids. This is a reminder that the Greenbelt remains a living monument to Germany’s painful division and peaceful unification. Grünesband is both a landscape of memories and an extraordinary network of ecosystems. This is an environment where nature and history are directly intertwined, where borders erected out of fear may offer a blueprint for resilience.
