Ms. Nickels, in 1983 you were one of the first Greens to enter the Bundestag.

The 2021 documentary "The Unbowed" shows how much scorn and contempt women MPs had to contend with during this time.

Didn't that make you angry at the time?

Johanna Kuroczik

Editor in the "Science" department of the Frankfurter Allgemeine Sunday newspaper.

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I became politicized at a time when Parliament admired men who really pulled off the ball and women were practically non-existent.

In men, anger was considered combative.

If a woman had made a similar statement, she would have been through.

The film nailed that brilliantly.

Of course, we all had to deal with that across factions.

But the women in the Bundestag, the protagonists from the film, all knew what to expect.

In a way, they already knew it from their private lives, from the world of work, and were therefore not afraid.

You got angry, you gritted your teeth, but that's exactly why you wanted to till the field.

Did you then swallow the anger about hostilities?

I've always looked for confrontation.

In the Legal Affairs Committee, for example, a colleague repeatedly insulted me, saying I should take tranquilizers and belonged in a psychiatric ward because I brought up issues related to women's politics.

It exploded the day before the summer break.

I had prepared and announced that I would hold the Rules of Procedure Committee pending resolution of the matter.

Although I have to say: I have always claimed to speak toughly to the point, but to show respect for the other person as a colleague.

I am enthusiastic about very sharp arguments in the matter.

If you don't hold back, but really let arguments collide, then options arise that neither of you saw before.

Now you sat in the plenary hall at the center of power.

Have you ever felt powerless in your anger?

In my eyes, anger and powerlessness are like Siamese twins.

Why should I get angry when I have the power to solve the problem directly?

I felt angry and powerless during the nuclear weapons debate.

In response, I dug deep into the subject.

So, in your eyes, can there be any good in getting angry?

The alternative to anger is shrinking, shutting yourself in and then not wanting to see the world anymore.

Anger, where it's appropriate and appropriate, not rooting it out, but reining it in and giving it direction—that's it, I think.

And in a democracy you have many tools at your disposal, it offers you a safe forum.

If you look at Afghanistan, what opportunities do women have there?

You are delivered.

In Germany you can fight for your rights.

You can look back on almost four decades in politics.

What initially drove you to get involved?

I was about 15 years old at the time, and the wars in Vietnam and Biafra made me very shocked and incredibly angry.

Then I looked: What can I do?

I lived in a village, the peace movement was far away.

But the large Catholic aid organizations were based in Aachen, so I was able to channel my indignation positively.

But my anger at misanthropy, cruelty and ignorance was a very strong driving force for me, and I still haven't gotten rid of it to this day.

So is it worth getting angry?

I am absolutely convinced that every single person has a power, just like constant dripping wears away the stone.

In politics you learn that fundamental problems can rarely be solved in a few years.

But what you do can have an impact in the future.

It's a bit like farming or planting a forest.

I may not reap the rewards, but hopefully the next generation will.