launched a PR drive to promote his Nazi state. The Coca-Cola Company are happy to mention that one of the US 1936 Olympic rowing team went on to become their chairman. They are also proud to point out that sprinter Jesse Owens advertised Coke - though this was years after he won four gold medals in Berlin, somewhat spiking the Aryan master-race theories of his host. The Company are keener to place themselves alongside those who are seen as âfightingâ the Nazis or promoting the âOlympic idealâ, rather than display themselves as a backers of the Olympic platform given to Hitler. And frankly, who wouldnât be?
Â
But the Company have a few other Nazi items in the attic. Consider Max Keith, the managing director of Coca-Cola GmbH, Cokeâs bottler in Germany, during World War Two. As the war progressed the supply of ingredients to make Coca-Cola dried up, so Max invented a new drink to quench the German thirst. He named it Fanta. Now thereâs a strap line for an ad. Fanta: The Reich Stuff!
Â
Company historians note that Max Keith never joined the Nazi Party but he did exhibit Coca-Cola GmbH at a trade fair organised to embrace the concept of the German worker under the Fuhrer. In another instance Max Keith decorated his Coca
Cola stand with Nazi flags. This has been confirmed by The Coca-Cola Company which said: â[Max] Keith at a bottler convention displayed swastikas and ended with a salute to Hitler. [This] would not have been out of place in the US if it were reversed and the podium had an American Flag and the proceedings began or ended with the Pledge of Allegiance.â 14 Iâll leave you to be the judge of that.
Â
What I do know is that The Coca-Cola Company archives have pictures of the stand at the trade fair âthat depict swastikas used as decorâ 15 under the Coca-Cola banner. It is merely a guess on my part that the archivist would rather burn in hell than release those photos for public viewing
Â
Itâs fairly safe to say that these stories are not going to generate greater sales for Coca-Cola, with the exception of the odd Klan customer. None of these facts, whether it is Pembertonâs naughty needle, Fantaâs dodgy parentage or Kingâs condemnation, tell the story Coca-Cola want us to hear and it is the story they want to tell that sells their drink.
T o hear the Coca-Cola story, it is a $15 admission charge for adults, $9 for kids aged between three and twelve. But before you are tempted to visit the World of Coca-Cola ask yourself one question: what is on show here? They make fizzy drinks and advertise all over the world in order to sell them; all they have are bottles and adverts - they canât make a museum out of that, can they? Yes, they can. That is exactly what the World of Coca-Cola is: Coca-Cola, Coca-Cola adverts and a giftshop selling Coca-Cola merchandise.
Â
The first gallery you come to is the misnamed âLoftâ, situated on the ground floor. Essentially this is an open area in front of two
display cases, with the capacity for about two hundred people standing. The room is wall-to-wall banners, bottles and posters, pictures of American footballers urging them - and therefore us - to âPlay Refreshedâ. Another has a boy holding up a six-pack of Coke in the old-fashioned design: âAll Set at Our Homeâ it reads. Coke clocks, bold and bright shine from high up on the loft rafters, next to art deco leaded-glass lampshades, with stained-glass pictures of the company script. A huge banner reads âLive on the Coke Side of Lifeâ, though it is not as if there is any other option around here. Even the lighting has a red hue, and my retinas are beginning to ache slightly from over-exposure to the Coke colours: everywhere is red and white.
Â
The glass cabinets hold Coke memorabilia as if it were treasure from the time of the pharaohs: toy delivery trucks, Christmas decorations, a pair