The story of Marlies Kurtz, a kiosk owner in Hamburg's Phoenix district, is a microcosm of a broader trend sweeping across Western nations. Once a quiet, high-trust neighborhood where elderly residents mingled peacefully, the Phoenix district has morphed into a crime-ridden hotspot plagued by drug trafficking, illegal gambling, and violence. Kurtz's shop, now a fortified "small fortress," serves customers through a narrow window, a stark symbol of the mistrust and fear that have replaced community cohesion. From an anti-immigration perspective, this transformation illustrates the perilous endgame of unchecked multicultural diversity: the erosion of safe, cohesive societies, forcing citizens to retreat into citadels, literal and metaphorical strongholds, to protect themselves from the chaos of a fractured social fabric. This blog post argues that the pursuit of multiculturalism, when driven by mass immigration without assimilation, leads to a dystopian reality where communities become fortified enclaves, trust evaporates, and citizens live in a state of siege.
High-trust societies, once the hallmark of Western nations, rely on shared values, cultural norms, and mutual respect to function smoothly. In the Phoenix district, Marlies Kurtz recalls a time when her neighbourhood was "quiet and pleasant," filled with older residents who fostered a sense of community. Over 35 years, however, mass immigration, 86% of the district's 9,500 residents now have a migration background, has coincided with a "wave of crime activity." Drug trafficking, mass brawls, knife stabbings, and illegal gambling have turned the area into a place where Kurtz was attacked, threatened with firearms, and forced to barricade her shop. This is not an isolated case, but a pattern seen across Europe and increasingly in America, where multicultural policies choose diversity over unity.
The influx of diverse populations without a commitment to assimilation, undermines the cultural glue that holds societies together. The Phoenix district's demographic shift, 31% of residents under 18, 17% of households with three or more children, and nearly a quarter on social benefits, has created a transient, fragmented community. The lack of trust in German authorities, low daycare attendance, and unregistered tenants (potentially doubling the population since 2019), exacerbate the problem. As Birgit Stöver notes, landlords exploited this multiculturalism, cramming apartments with tenants at high rents without reinvesting in the community, leading to overcrowding and decay. The result? A neighbourhood where "certain nationalities" dominate, creating enclaves within enclaves, eroding the shared identity that once made the area liveable.
The transformation of Kurtz's kiosk into a "small fortress" is a literal manifestation of the citadel endgame. Unable to go out alone at night and serving customers through a fortified window, Kurtz embodies the reality of living under siege. This is not just about physical barriers but a broader societal shift where citizens, businesses, and even governments retreat into defensive postures to cope with the consequences of multiculturalism. In the Phoenix district, the "critical mass" of problems, illegal gambling, drug trafficking, youth gangs, and excessive rents, forces residents to secure everything, from shops to homes, against a backdrop of rising violence. German state media NDR's report of a police surge in response to stabbings and brawls confirms the district's descent into chaos, yet Kurtz's plea for "more order" highlights the understaffed police and indifferent politicians, leaving residents to fend for themselves.
This citadel mentality is not unique to Hamburg. Across Germany, shoplifting cost retailers €3 billion in 2024, with organised crime playing a significant role, fuelled by economic pressures and migration-related challenges. In the U.S., similar trends emerge in cities like Chicago and San Francisco, where rising crime rates, often linked to lax immigration enforcement, force businesses to install security gates and hire private guards. This as the inevitable outcome of policies that choose open borders and cultural relativism over national identity and security. When communities become melting pots of conflicting values, trust erodes, and citizens must build walls, both physical and social, to survive.
Proponents of multiculturalism argue it enriches societies, but the Phoenix district exposes this as a mirage. The area's 26 nationalities, far from creating a vibrant tapestry, have led to dominance by certain groups, Albanians, Romanians, now Bulgarians, fostering division rather than unity. As Thilo Sarrazin warned in his book Germany Is Abolishing Itself, unchecked migration accelerates demographic shifts that strain social cohesion, predicting that by 2070, 80% of births in Germany could be to non-German mothers. In the Phoenix district, the high proportion of youth and reliance on state support (nearly half of children under 15 on benefits) creates a cycle of dependency and crime, with youth gangs and illegal activities flourishing in the absence of shared cultural norms.
Policies that allow unchecked immigration, legal or illegal, risk replicating the Phoenix district's fate, where neighbourhoods become unrecognisable, and residents like Kurtz live in fear. The transient nature of the population, with many unregistered tenants, mirrors concerns about America's porous borders, where unvetted migrants strain resources and contribute to crime spikes. The German experience, echoed in reports of arson attacks on asylum seeker housing, shows how multiculturalism can fuel resentment and extremism on both sides, further fracturing society.
The endgame of multicultural diversity, without a strong emphasis on assimilation, is a society of citadels. Neighbourhoods like the Phoenix district become fortified zones where residents lock themselves in, businesses operate like bunkers, and trust in institutions crumbles. Kurtz's story, 35 years of watching her community decay into a place where she avoids evening walks, reflects a broader loss of freedom and security. The "social conditions" Welt describes, from illegal waste disposal to youth gangs, form a "critical mass" that overwhelms the community's ability to function. Politicians' inaction and understaffed police only deepen the sense of abandonment, pushing residents to rely on private fortifications.
In America, this trajectory is already visible. Urban areas with high migrant populations face rising crime, forcing businesses to adopt security measures akin to Kurtz's "small fortress."
Marlies Kurtz's fortified kiosk in Hamburg's Phoenix district is a stark warning of multiculturalism's dark side. The endgame of unchecked diversity is clear: the death of high-trust communities and the rise of citadels, where fear replaces freedom, and barricades replace open doors. The Phoenix district's descent into crime and division, driven by mass immigration and weak governance, is a blueprint for what the West must avoid. By embracing national identity, border security, and assimilation, we can reject the citadel future and reclaim communities where people like Kurtz can live without fear. The alternative, a nation of fortresses, is a betrayal of the safe, cohesive society that once defined the West.
"The infamous Phoenix district in south Hamburg is grappling with a multitude of issues, including drug trafficking, illegal gambling, and frequent violence, with mass immigration transforming the neighborhood in recent decades.
It is not a right-wing conspiracy theory that the district is crime-ridden. German state media outlet NDR recently reported a surge of police in the area, writing: "A fatal balcony fall, mass brawls, knife stabbings, and repeated drug incidents: the Phoenix district in Hamburg-Harburg has often been in the headlines in recent weeks. Now, the police want to show an increased presence there."
However, the neighborhood was not always a cesspit of crime. An interview conducted by Welt involving a kiosk owner in the area shows the deleterious and slow-motion disaster that multiculturalism and mass immigration all too often bring about.
"Everyone comes to me," says Marlies Kurtz, a Thuringian native who opened her convenience kiosk shop on Maretstrasse 35 years ago. "The nice people, the junkies, and even those I usually avoid – they still show me respect." As Welt reports, her kiosk sits at the western edge of the Phoenix district, below an old cemetery now transformed into a park where children play among tombstones.
However, the testimony of this working-class member of the community shows that the changes in her neighborhood have been far from good. It is a story that has played out in countless neighborhoods and cities in Europe.
Kurtz says she has seen it all. "My house was broken into. I was attacked, threatened with firearms." Despite the welcoming atmosphere of her shop, her hospitality has strict limits.
Nobody is allowed in anymore; instead, she serves customers through a narrow window. If danger rears its head, she is forced to barricade herself inside the shop.
Welt writes that Kurtz has witnessed the neighborhood's evolution for nearly four decades.
"In the beginning, it was quiet and pleasant. Many older people lived here, and I was able to build my shop in peace." Since then, she's observed a "wave of crime activity," with positive developments becoming increasingly rare. "Now, I have to secure everything; my shop has become a small fortress."
In other words, the high-trust and safe neighborhood she once belonged to has given way to mistrust and fear.
Despite being a neighborhood institution, she avoids going out alone in the evenings due to safety concerns. "More order needs to be restored," Kurtz insists, "but the police are understaffed, and politicians are doing too little. This is making people increasingly dissatisfied."
Welt writes that the kiosk is a microcosm of the problems seen in the neighborhood.
"The kiosk represents the contradictions that define the district: Kurtz and the many people who want to make it a more livable place. And the social conditions that are difficult to break down. Each problem alone would be a challenge. In the district, they combine to form a critical mass: illegal gambling in cultural clubs and betting shops, drug trafficking, excessive rents, youth gangs, illegal waste disposal. Many negative manifestations are converging in the Phoenix district – the victims are the residents, who can do little to counteract the negative spiral."
A 2022 analysis reported 9,500 residents in the small neighborhood, making it one of Hamburg's most densely populated neighborhoods. Thirty-one percent of residents are under 18, and 86 percent have a migration background.
Seventeen percent of households have three or more children, with a disproportionate number relying on state support. Nearly a quarter of residents received basic social security benefits (now called a citizen's allowance) in 2022, with almost half of children under 15 receiving it.
The report also mentions that the population may be much larger than official reports, as many of the apartments are full of tenants who are not legally registered. In fact, the number of residents may have doubled since 2019. Many of these children do not attend daycare, and trust in German authorities is low.
Harburg CDU city council member Birgit Stöver says the area has become increasingly multicultural since the 1960s.
"The owners, many of whom no longer lived in the neighborhood, took advantage of this: properties with density increasing, narrow backyards filled with apartments, and too small, unrenovated apartments rented out to many people at high prices. Money was extracted but not reinvested."
She adds that "at some point, certain nationalities gained a sort of dominance and began to dominate the neighborhood." This began with Albanians, then Romanians, and now perhaps Bulgarians. Today, 26 nations are reportedly represented here, but many people come and go in the neighborhood, adding a transient nature to the district.
If the Phoenix district was just one neighborhood in Germany — or even just one neighborhood in Hamburg — the problems would be manageable, but the record-breaking violent crime surge seen in Germany, growing organized crime, and the growing sense that Germany is no longer a safe country are all country-wide trends.
The Phoenix neighborhood, and even the simple kiosk of Marlies Kurtz, are representative of a situation that has developed across the Western world."