In 1992, together with the historian Eberhard Jäckel and two CEOs of the major German corporations Daimler and Bosch, Marcus Bierich and Edzard Reuter, I boarded a corporate jet from Stuttgart bound for Berlin. We formed a group of "persuaders".

Our goal was to stop a dangerous trend of the new German republic. That's why we felt like we were on a conspiratorial journey. What was the reason? We wanted to shape the new Berlin Republic of Germany. Because the Bonn Republic was now a thing of the past. German Chancellor Helmut Kohl, like Reich Chancellor Otto von Bismarck, had reunited Germany and launched a greater Germany.

Right-wing intellectuals immediately tried to exploit this historical caesura. They demanded a "museumisation of the Holocaust": the new larger Germany should come to terms with its past. Our troop of progressive business leaders and academics wanted nothing more than to prevent that.

We wanted to make it happen in the new capital, in Berlin. Berlin had shifted the whole of Europe: Paris and Rome had become rather marginalised, even London a little. Pre-war Europe was suddenly celebrating a comeback. But this also entailed great risks: How would Germany deal with its responsibility?

For this reason, and this reason alone, we wanted to prevent Germany, as the new power of the centre, from becoming unbalanced again. Because Germany's imbalance would also mean an imbalance in Europe.

My boss, the Daimler boss Edzard Reuter knew this all too well. He led our delegation. He was not only the most powerful German industrial boss. He also came from one of Europe's leading social democratic families. His father Ernst Reuter had worked for Lenin before the war and later ended up in a concentration camp - before he had to flee into exile from the Nazis to Turkey with his wife and son Edzard.

From there, Ernst Reuter steered and supported networks of underground and resistance throughout Europe. This was one of the reasons why he was elected the first mayor of the destroyed and divided Berlin after the war. And he became world famous for his speech preventing the Russian invasion of the western sectors of the city: "People, look at this city!"

Edzard, who later became Daimler boss, stood right behind him during this speech. The whole family had risked their lives for a new democratic Germany. Edzard Reuter had therefore fought all his life for the reunification of Germany and against the Iron Curtain that Churchill had been the first to denounce.

But Reuter also wanted to stop the temptations of the new Germany. He and some of his fellow citizens had been campaigning since the late 1980s for the construction of a Holocaust memorial in the heart of the German capital.

When our delegation reached Berlin, we lobbied hard for it. But there was a huge obstacle. Reuter and Chancellor Kohl belonged to different political parties and camps. A compromise absolutely had to be found here - otherwise the monument would never be built. One thing was therefore clear: we had to convince Chancellor Kohl, whatever the cost. To do this, I used my personally good connections in the Chancellor's Office. For years before, I had worked for the chancellor's office.

And indeed, as a conservative, Kohl had other plans for the new German capital. In the meantime, however, at the beginning of the 1990s, fears of a larger and more threatening Germany were rising in Europe. Especially in London, worries grew about a political imbalance on the continent - an old political principle of British diplomacy.

Fortunately, I was able to conclude my lobbying activities successfully in the end - with intensive support from our group. So we achieved the unexpected: Kohl identified with the idea.

But a crucial problem was not yet solved. Other groups of victims also claimed to be honoured with the monument. This would have relativised the memorial. It would no longer have been a Holocaust memorial. The Holocaust would even have been desecrated in a certain way. So we were glad that the memorial was dedicated solely to the murdered Jews of Europe in agreement with the German political leadership.

It is true that the memorial was not erected on the former site of the "Reich Security Main Office", the headquarters of the SS. Rather, it was erected according to Peter Eisenmann's design in the so-called "death strip": where the Wall of the GDR had stood and where many refugees had been killed or arrested.

This new location had other advantages. The memorial was in a politically central location, in the immediate vicinity of the Federal Chancellery, the British, French and American embassies, where East and West Berlin directly collided and where something new was created. The sociologist Michael Bodemann therefore even gave the site a sacred significance: the memorial would be erected at the sites of the "subjugated deities".

In this respect, 9 November has a special historical significance in and for Germany: on 9 November 1989, the iron curtain was peacefully raised again: it was the day the Wall came down. But 9 November 1938 was also the day of the Progromnacht. And 9 November 1969 was the day the left-wing radical terrorist organisation "Tupamaros West-Berlin" planted a bomb in the Jewish Community Centre in Berlin.

All in all, one can say: revolutions of democracy, but also revolutions of violence and dictatorship occurred on this day. Chancellor Kohl therefore, in consideration of the date of the Progromnacht, did not set the new bank holidays for the reunification of Germany on 9 November, but instead on the artificial date of 3 October.

However, 9 November has been declared a day of remembrance for all victims of National Socialism in Germany. Before the decision for the Holocaust memorial, the chairman of the Central Council of Jews in Germany, Ignatz Bubis, had supported another memorial, the Neue Wache. In agreement with the federal government, this was considered a memorial for all victims of war and tyranny. Thus it was at the same time a memorial for German soldiers and Nazi victims.

The Holocaust Memorial supplemented this previous ritual and was dedicated solely to the murdered Jews of Europe. If this had not happened, rabbis would not be able to say prayers for the dead at this place of remembrance.

The memorial's message has been successful in the new Berlin Republic: Although there have been murderous attacks against synagogues in Germany, many new synagogues are being built and antisemitism is widely outlawed in society. Berlin has even become a magnet for young Jews from all over the world who want to live here for a while.

In this respect, there is not only a dead memorial, but also a living culture of reconciliation among the new generations.

The author, Hans-Christian Lange, born in 1957, lives and works in Munich. As a young scholarship holder, he was an interlocutor with Raymond Aron in Paris, one of the most important intellectuals of the 20th century. Subsequently, Lange was a chancellor's advisor and then political advisor to federal ministers, later also to Daimler boss Edzard Reuter. Finally, he founded a trade union for band and temporary workers because of labour and human rights violations.