The coal mine that has split German society in two – and exposed the country’s green hypocrisy

Even for most Germans, locating Lützerath on a map would be a challenge. The tiny hamlet is made up of only an abandoned clutch of a few dozen homes and farm buildings less than 20 miles from Germany’s border with the Netherlands.

Yet the settlement in the Rhineland has become a national flashpoint in the battle over Germany’s energy future – and a symbol to many of the hypocrisy of far away Berlin’s approach to the climate.

Energy giant RWE plans to raze Lützerath to the ground and build an opencast mine that will produce lignite, also called brown coal, which is considered the dirtiest grade. The project has been long planned and homes, a church and a small wind farm have already been destroyed.

But about 700 activists have been occupying the site since 2020 in tree houses, huts, tents and buildings in an effort to prevent the village's demolition and the mine’s extension.

“This one village became a symbol,” says Prof Niklas Hohne, co-founder of the New Climate Institute in Cologne. “It's not only a symbol for coal, but it's a symbol for a government that in the eyes of the climate protesters does not do enough on climate; that's why I think it's bigger than the coal that is underneath that village.”

This week the clash of ideals came to a head when a court declared that protesters could be removed by police, leading to confrontations. Officers in riot gear have begun dragging activists away from Lützerath.

The decision to press ahead with the dirty coal project pits Germany's coalition government, in which the Green Party are minority members, against its natural supporters.

Activist Luisa Neubauer, a prominent member of a climate group inspired by Swedish activist Greta Thunberg, and a Green Party member, describes the agreement to raze the village as a “dirty deal” and says that the coal should be left in the ground.

More than 500 scientists have signed an open letter asking authorities for the eviction to be halted, arguing that the coal is not needed for the stability of the electricity grid and saying that the decision was “politically determined”.

Many protesters are frustrated that Berlin has done a deal with RWE to end coal-based power generation in 2030 in the region - eight years earlier than planned - but still sacrifice the village.

“I didn't expect so much from the Greens, but still, I'm angry and I think they could do more,” says Rio Oldman, who is camped away from the settlement at a legal protest.

“I feel like everyone just thinks we can keep on going as we did before. And it makes me crazy to see politicians just talking about what's legal in the state or the needs of the energy industry.”

The backdrop to the decision is the loss of energy supplies from Russia. It places the government in an awkward position of defending the destruction of a settlement by a coal miner.

“Putin’s war of aggression is forcing us to temporarily make greater use of lignite so that we save gas in electricity generation,” vice chancellor Robert Habeck of the Greens said in October. “This is painful but necessary in view of the gas shortage.”

The Green Party is committed to ultimately weaning Germany off coal but this is easier said than done, since 20pc of power currently comes from hard coal and lignite. That figure is expected to rise as the country’s old fleet of nuclear power stations comes offline.

In Germany, the now-tiny size of existing nuclear generation means the power is seen as an expensive and dangerous proposition, says Prof Hohne. The Green Party says “nuclear power is not the right way to fight the climate crisis” and wants to drop that fuel as well, dismantling nuclear power plants “as soon as possible”.

Clashes in Lützerath risk overshadowing good progress made by the government in the eyes of many green supporters, Prof Hohne says, such as overcoming legal barriers to fitting solar panels on roofs and building more wind farms.

Saving the hamlet would be relatively simple, Prof Hohne says, and could mend the rift between the protesters and the Green Party. Coal can be mined around the settlement, although this would be the more expensive option because of the rich seam below the buildings.

“Underneath, there's a lot of coal,” says Prof Hohne.

Ms OIdman and her fellow protesters feel buoyed by the success of occupations at Hambach Forest, an ancient woodland which RWE wanted to dig up to mine. After a series of occupations dating back to 2012, the government agreed to preserve the forest in 2020.

“When they saw at Hambach that it's possible that we can empower ourselves collectively and change the course of history, this empowered them” in turn, Oldman says.

Whether or not RWE succeeds in constructing its mine, the protest is an embarrassing spectacle for the government, says Professor Hohne.

“If you see pictures all around the world of policemen carrying climate protesters away and protecting big coal fired coal mines, it's not a good impression for what's happening in Germany.

“I would really hope that let's take a step back, maybe pause the evacuation for a bit, put all the cards on the table again, and think of a solution that makes everybody happy.”

RWE said: “RWE is appealing to the squatters to observe the rule of law and to end the illegal occupation of buildings, plants and sites belonging to RWE peacefully. Nobody should put their own health and life at risk by participating in illegal activity.”

The company says the mine was approved in 1995 and that all inhabitants of the hamlet were relocated by 2017, many to a village 8km away.