Every December, the small island of Borkum, located off the coast of Germany, transforms as its residents prepare for the peculiar tradition known as the "Klaasohm." This controversial custom has recently come under fire, particularly after the airing of the NDR program "Frauen schlagen als Volksfest" (Women Are Beaten as Folk Festival), which unveiled the darker side of this event. The tradition involves men, clad in fearsome costumes, roaming the streets on the night of December 5th, capturing women and playfully punishing them with cow horns. Although seemingly light-hearted, many participants experience physical pain, resulting in growing debates about the appropriateness of such customs.
The club of town youths, dubbed "Borkumer Jungens," which has been responsible for the event since 1830, insists on keeping the tradition alive, albeit under tight wraps. "We want to keep the awareness low," stated the group's representatives, who discourage media coverage and any form of social media sharing around the Klaasohm. But with the exposure from recent media reports, their efforts to maintain secrecy seem futile as public outrage surges.
On social media, reactions have ranged from disbelief to outrage. One user commented, “I’m just shocked; this tradition is absolutely disgusting.” Others shared their own harrowing experiences, describing the evening as not merely fun but often painful, with some women openly questioning the legacy of the tradition. One woman reflected, "Why must we allow this to happen to us?" echoing sentiments voiced by many who have participated over the years.
Traditionally, the event is men’s night—an opportunity for male residents to reclaim the streets. Seven men disguise themselves, then bound through the town, swiftly targeting women they encounter. Witnesses describe it as chaotic, with the men playfully 'capturing' and 'punishing' multiple women. While new and casual observers may see it as harmless fun, former participants point out the underlying physicality, insisting it can hurt and can leave behind serious bruises.
Despite the allegations of abuse, some islanders have come to the tradition’s defense. One local, who prefers to remain anonymous, mentioned, "It’s not really violent. Most locals don’t have problems with it—it’s part of our culture." This perspective, though, overlooks the very real discomfort and suffering experienced by countless women.
The stark dichotomy of opinions has become even more pronounced with the involvement of external political figures. Groups like the Pirate Party of North Rhine-Westphalia have taken to social media branding Borkum as a 'No-Go zone for women' during the event, stirring more controversy and deepening the conversation about gender and tradition on the island.
Long-time Borkum residents are often caught between two worlds: the desire to uphold cultural practices and the mounting pressure of societal change. Many prefer to keep the tradition alive for fear of losing their cultural identity, yet women like Leonie continue to wonder why they must suffer for it. Her claim resonates with not just women on the island but many who advocate for stricter conversations around gender equality.
Meanwhile, the younger generation of Borkum residents is beginning to challenge the status quo. An increasing number of voices around the island argue for more inclusive and less painful celebrations. They urge the community to adapt the festival to something more representative of contemporary values—ones aligned with mutual respect and comfort.
This year, as national and international conversations around abuse and gender inequality amplify, will the island of Borkum reconsider the way they honor their traditions? The events of this December will surely be watched closely, not just by participants, but by those advocating for change.
The silence surrounding the Klaasohm tradition has been shattered. The question remains—can this old celebration evolve, or will it continue to trample on the rights and comfort of women?
