The air on Odeonsplatz was thick with a mixture of frustration, hope, and the biting February chill. Thousands of Munich residents, their faces etched with concern and determination, converged on Saturday, February 8, 2026, to send a resounding message: Munich’s housing crisis has reached a breaking point. This was more than just a demonstration; it was a collective cry for help, a demand for change in a city where the dream of affordable living is rapidly fading into an unattainable luxury.
A Sea of Voices Against Soaring Rents
The numbers themselves told a story of widespread discontent. Organizers, representing over 120 different organizations, proudly declared an attendance of 10,000 people, while police, ever the pragmatists, offered a more conservative estimate of 4,000 to 5,000. Regardless of the exact count, the message was clear: Munich’s citizens are fed up. They marched through the ‘gentrified’ Maxvorstadt, as described by the organizers, their banners and chants echoing a single, urgent plea: affordable housing is a human right, not a commodity.
Stefan Jagel of the Left Party, his voice booming from the stage, encapsulated the sentiment of many. “Munich must not become a Disneyland for real estate speculators!” he thundered, his words met with enthusiastic applause. Ironically, the pealing of the Theatinerkirche bells, a timeless symbol of the city, almost drowned out his impassioned speech, a momentary, unplanned interlude that underscored the gravity of the situation.
Political Divisions and Public Discontent
The demonstration, while unified in its core message, also highlighted the political fault lines within Munich. Christian Köning of the SPD Munich, speaking earlier, emphasized the city’s efforts in tenant protection, deftly deflecting responsibility to federal and state levels. His departure from the stage was met with a smattering of boos, a testament to the public’s impatience with political platitudes.
Notably absent from the visible political landscape was the CSU. Dominik Krause, the Green Party’s mayoral candidate, seized the opportunity to orchestrate a collective whistle concert aimed squarely at the State Chancellery, a mere 400 meters away. His gesture was a pointed reminder of the 33,000 state-owned GBW apartments sold off in 2013 by then-Finance Minister Markus Söder, a decision that continues to haunt the city’s housing narrative. “Söder’s betrayal of tenants: 33,000 state-owned apartments sold,” read one protest sign, a stark reminder of past actions with lasting consequences.
Human Stories Behind the Statistics
Beyond the political rhetoric and crowd estimates, the demonstration was a tapestry of individual stories, each one a poignant illustration of Munich’s housing crisis. Rosa Vogel, a 22-year-old on the cusp of starting an apprenticeship, expressed her frustration at being unable to afford even a shared apartment in her hometown. “It’s annoying that I, someone who grew up in Munich, can’t afford my own apartment or even a shared room in my own city,” she lamented, forced to remain living with her parents.
Katharina Plankl, a 27-year-old legal assistant, held a sign detailing her six-month-long, fruitless search for a two-room apartment. “I don’t want to complain, some have it much worse – for example, with owner-occupancy terminations,” she acknowledged, but the sheer difficulty of finding a home despite a good income left her disheartened. “I earn well and just can’t find anything.”
Karin Lohr of the street magazine BISS shared even more harrowing accounts, revealing the “miserable conditions” in which many socially disadvantaged individuals are forced to live. She spoke of a person residing in a barred basement apartment for 800 euros, a stark example of the exorbitant prices and substandard living situations faced by those with limited means. “No one complains because they are all afraid of being kicked out and then having nothing at all.”
Demands for a Fairer Future
The organizers, represented by Julia Richter, articulated a clear set of demands: rent caps, an end to “unearned profits” from land and property, prevention of vacancies, preservation of social housing, and a halt to the “selling off” of public land. These demands, while not delving into intricate policy details, served to galvanize the crowd and foster a sense of solidarity.
Marianne Ott-Meimberg, one of the last remaining tenants in Türkenstraße 54, shared her nearly two-decade-long battle against eviction. Her building, now half-empty, stands as a stark symbol of the ongoing struggle. She yearns to spend her twilight years in the home she has inhabited for over 50 years, a simple wish threatened by the relentless march of gentrification.
As the demonstration snaked through Maxvorstadt, accompanied by the rhythmic beat of drums and the fervent chants of protesters, a small, yet impactful, side incident occurred. A climate activist group unfurled a banner reading “Housing not engine capacity” across the facade of the State Library, a defiant statement that briefly drew the attention of the police.
A Lingering Hope for Change
Despite the slightly smaller turnout than hoped for by some, the organizers expressed satisfaction. “The fact that so many people took to the streets to protest against the rent madness clearly shows: the rent crisis is not a fringe issue. It threatens livelihoods,” they declared to the Abendzeitung. The demonstration may have ended, but the echoes of its message will undoubtedly reverberate through the halls of power, a constant reminder that for many, the right to a home in Munich remains an elusive dream.
Source: https://www.abendzeitung-muenchen.de/muenchen/miet-demo-in-muenchen-eine-grosse-partei-fehlt-art-1111015
