It is becoming apparent that history is not only as riddled with stigma as society itself, but often is the source. Research can clear up some of the attributes that have discredited certain sectors. Blackbourn exercises that power through the agrarian German peasantry in Peasants and Politics in Germany, 1871-1914. Misunderstandings of their political activism pervade, since it is a convenient way of understanding their eventual support for the Third Reich. Was the stagnant German peasant-farmer of the Second Reich the perfect vehicle for proto-fascism?
German peasants have been simultaneously glorified and derided for their traditionalism. Wilhelm Riehl praised their conservative good sense, while Karl Marx cursed the idiocy of rural life. What needs to be addressed is the actual role of rural politics. Blackbourn begins with the two basic approaches. Haushofer's happy tale of modernization, where social changes correspond to agricultural developments, is "simply one damn improvement after another." The more legitimate argument to consider is Rosenburg's- "the junkers were able to gain a new lease of life by manipulating rural discontent and mobilizing the peasantry and other parts of the rural population behind their own banner." Both theories are exaggerations to Blackbourn, but Rosenburg can at least be considered a starting point for argument and analysis.
The agrarian peasantry came to life in the 1890's, as a result of many varying grievances with a common root: these primary producers were subject to outside market and political forces that lay frustratingly beyond their control. Some fought back with co-operatives- dairy producers, for example, organized to bring about a rise in the cost of milk in 1895. More importantly, a feeling of manipulation and exploitation changed the peasantry. School, military, and communication advances gave agrarian youth the impetus to move to the town, which gave the established farmer a reason to fear and mistrust such "modernization." Dissatsified with the government and otherwise politically inactive, independent movements of the 1890's became the hallmark of peasant discontent. As a result of some fierce politicking, and the winning of supposedly "safe seats," rural grievances were given a platform and would be addressed in years to come. The partisan failure of these fleeting peasant movements is not indicative of their influence, but is a characterisitic of their nature- to flare up, be appeased, and die down until the next aggrivation.
Assesment of Germany's peasant class should be multi-dimensional, as Blackbourn suggests. While Prussian peasants were manipulated to a certain extent by Junker Conservatives through the Agrarian League, there was a different story playing itself out in Bavaria and Wurttemberg. This article closes, as it begins, with a peasant frame for advent of National Socialism in 1933. This advent and the re-casting of rural politics "was itself a process, not a completed event whereby the success of the Agrarian League fixed a pattern of politics down to 1933." These tillers of the land cannot only be viewed as pawns for Junker chessmasters and Nazi mobilization, but must be given credit for taking action for their own causes.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Friday, September 18, 2009
Beyond Historical Perspective?
Chris Lorenz's article Beyond Good and Evil? offers a variety of perspectives on the Second Reich's role in the rise of Nazism. Some historians believe in an inherent tie between the two, though they're able to conflict on the roles of Bismarck, liberalism, geopolitics, economics and culture. Nipperdey (and others, though not so discreetly) outright rejects a connection between the Second and Third Reichs, citing two different Germanies in two different periods and a social heterogeneity that makes connection irrelevant. So what's an ideal interpretation? Can these theories be reconciled to get a clear, continuous picture of Germany?
The Bielefeld school's (Wehler and Kocka's) famous theory revolves around the idea of German Sonderweg, explaining the nation's unique destiny through a combination of backwards politics and a rapidly advancing economy. Bismarck is here posited as a Bonapartist, who distracted the masses from domestic problems through foreign affairs and built national unity in the form of "negative integration." This Sonderweg would not have been possible without the failure of German liberals to parliamentarize and reform the nation. The authoritarian nature of Germany was a consistancy from Reich to Reich.
Hillgruber, Hildebrand and Sturmer contradict the Bielefeld interpretation through a geopolitcal stance, stating Germany's problem was its very existence, in that it "was too big to cohabit with Europe and too weak to control it." German military assertion (and defeat) was therefore inevitable. Though these three historians (Mittellage school) are noted as offering a discontinuity in Second and Third Reich politics, they still frame German destiny as beginning with unification, just like Bielefeld. Thus, importance is placed on Bismarck and early Prussian assertion for both.
These are reasonable ideas with pretty comprehensive explanations, but they are well-challenged (especially Bielefeld) through the neo-Marxist critique of Eley and Blackburn. These two see a fundamental fallacy in the notion that the aristocracy was inherently feudal and the bourgeoisie inherently liberal. The error is in an understanding through stigma rather than fact, and shows too much association with British and French history. This fascinates me. There are certain historical trends (political and economic trends) that people link- like democracy and capitalism- that simply do not have to co-exist. Capitalism, which did indeed flourish under fascism, was not necessarily the boon of the German bourgies. Elie and Blackburn's assertion: it is ridiculous to view the Sonderweg on the basis of what didn't happen in Germany. This resonates well with me.
A note: I don't know about the rest of the class, but reading Lorenx initially did little for me. Only after this article was broken down in class could I go back and properly interpret it. Is double-reading thus mandatory for future comprehension? I hope not, that's alot of work. Also, this blog post is less of a feedback opportunity as a review activity. If anyone gets this far, I apologize for the regurgitation. Continuing (with some closure and a more honest format)...
Mommsen: no decision was made between aristocratic authoritarianism and bourgie parliamentarism. So stability was Bismarck's job in this respect, and he failed- failed to protect the conservative power structure he espoused, a protection which would have meant more significant stability than the balancing of class forces that left Germany teetering and vulnerable. Vulnerable to what? Industry boomed and, after the initial crash, most social groups experienced a wealth influx. Vulnerable to military defeat and an ultimate Hitler?
Ritter: the ideological divisions of Germany go back as far as the 1830's, with each bloc having a social group to depend on. The liberals alone lacked a credibility and social base that rendered them hopeless after the 1873 crash. Bismarck's negative integration backfired, catalyzing a political mobilization that gave the German system distinctly modern features (take that Bielfeld).
After the storm, Nipperdey is a breath of fresh air, which is probably why Lorenz fleshes his ideas out last. In essence, history can not be regarded in the linear fashion that most historians see it in. It is rather a "sea of possibilities," an "open process"- in which "individuals can exercise a decisive influence." Individuals like Bismarck or Hitler or Kaiser Wilhelm or Gavrilo Princep...
It is not a waste of time to grapple with early structures in trying to relate to modern ones, but in doing so, historians cannot help but see the nuances. In this respect, Nipperdey's historiography has the efflugence of philosophy- an appeal of general application, not just German. So, in what could be viewed as a copout, I'll subscribe to the Nipperdey school, and not allow the vague leftisms and rightisms such lofty influence- the influence people, intentions, and accidents deserve. Through the Second German Empire, Lorenz closes, we see "how much construction lurks in every reconstruction of history." A statement as empowering as it is unsettling.
The Bielefeld school's (Wehler and Kocka's) famous theory revolves around the idea of German Sonderweg, explaining the nation's unique destiny through a combination of backwards politics and a rapidly advancing economy. Bismarck is here posited as a Bonapartist, who distracted the masses from domestic problems through foreign affairs and built national unity in the form of "negative integration." This Sonderweg would not have been possible without the failure of German liberals to parliamentarize and reform the nation. The authoritarian nature of Germany was a consistancy from Reich to Reich.
Hillgruber, Hildebrand and Sturmer contradict the Bielefeld interpretation through a geopolitcal stance, stating Germany's problem was its very existence, in that it "was too big to cohabit with Europe and too weak to control it." German military assertion (and defeat) was therefore inevitable. Though these three historians (Mittellage school) are noted as offering a discontinuity in Second and Third Reich politics, they still frame German destiny as beginning with unification, just like Bielefeld. Thus, importance is placed on Bismarck and early Prussian assertion for both.
These are reasonable ideas with pretty comprehensive explanations, but they are well-challenged (especially Bielefeld) through the neo-Marxist critique of Eley and Blackburn. These two see a fundamental fallacy in the notion that the aristocracy was inherently feudal and the bourgeoisie inherently liberal. The error is in an understanding through stigma rather than fact, and shows too much association with British and French history. This fascinates me. There are certain historical trends (political and economic trends) that people link- like democracy and capitalism- that simply do not have to co-exist. Capitalism, which did indeed flourish under fascism, was not necessarily the boon of the German bourgies. Elie and Blackburn's assertion: it is ridiculous to view the Sonderweg on the basis of what didn't happen in Germany. This resonates well with me.
A note: I don't know about the rest of the class, but reading Lorenx initially did little for me. Only after this article was broken down in class could I go back and properly interpret it. Is double-reading thus mandatory for future comprehension? I hope not, that's alot of work. Also, this blog post is less of a feedback opportunity as a review activity. If anyone gets this far, I apologize for the regurgitation. Continuing (with some closure and a more honest format)...
Mommsen: no decision was made between aristocratic authoritarianism and bourgie parliamentarism. So stability was Bismarck's job in this respect, and he failed- failed to protect the conservative power structure he espoused, a protection which would have meant more significant stability than the balancing of class forces that left Germany teetering and vulnerable. Vulnerable to what? Industry boomed and, after the initial crash, most social groups experienced a wealth influx. Vulnerable to military defeat and an ultimate Hitler?
Ritter: the ideological divisions of Germany go back as far as the 1830's, with each bloc having a social group to depend on. The liberals alone lacked a credibility and social base that rendered them hopeless after the 1873 crash. Bismarck's negative integration backfired, catalyzing a political mobilization that gave the German system distinctly modern features (take that Bielfeld).
After the storm, Nipperdey is a breath of fresh air, which is probably why Lorenz fleshes his ideas out last. In essence, history can not be regarded in the linear fashion that most historians see it in. It is rather a "sea of possibilities," an "open process"- in which "individuals can exercise a decisive influence." Individuals like Bismarck or Hitler or Kaiser Wilhelm or Gavrilo Princep...
It is not a waste of time to grapple with early structures in trying to relate to modern ones, but in doing so, historians cannot help but see the nuances. In this respect, Nipperdey's historiography has the efflugence of philosophy- an appeal of general application, not just German. So, in what could be viewed as a copout, I'll subscribe to the Nipperdey school, and not allow the vague leftisms and rightisms such lofty influence- the influence people, intentions, and accidents deserve. Through the Second German Empire, Lorenz closes, we see "how much construction lurks in every reconstruction of history." A statement as empowering as it is unsettling.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Myth and the Kulterkampf
I find it interesting to look at the Bismarckian phase of German history, especially the Kulturkampf, through the lens of myth. Any given culture has a mythology that serves as a strong basis of unity and perspective. The schism between Catholics and politics at large in the newly unified nation comes to a head in 1871, when protests were filed about clergy members’ Center Party support. The split between established interest and Catholicism is a powerful example of myth’s place in society.
What German mythology was a point of unity at this stage? The Grimm brothers collected and catalogued many of these specific myths, which have been since translated and gained world-renown. The fairy tale is not merely a moral apparatus, with life-applying metaphor, though this is an important function. The widespread dissemination by the Grimm brothers provided a strong commonality for the collective German psyche, the commonality of story. People could relate and embrace their German-ness through their folktales. Not only that, but the folk-tale seemed particularly relevant when the newfangled German citizen was caught up in their own mythical adventure, with their recent triumph and a heroic history unfolding before their eyes.
It can be argued, then, that the German government was championing its own mythology. Through the trials of war, a German legend was born, and each citizen was to embrace this legend as their own, and to share their history as a basis for unity. If the politics of the day were endorsing their success as heroic destiny, a real-life mythological feat, then it could only be at odds with the Catholic, who had their own Biblical myths and own political agenda to account for.
If myth is as unifying as I think, then the cohesion Catholics attained with a common mythological basis was threatening to the government and non-Catholic masses for that very reason. Anderson notes that in the context of social struggle, the Catholic Church had political appeal because it “provided a ready-made rhetoric” that accounted for class difference. The virtue of the poor is certainly part of the Biblical tradtion. It was this aspect of myth that gave clergy members like Father Muller grounds for political participation. The Catholic mobilization and organization that scared the state was firmly planted in mythology, a state that organized its citizens through its own mythological discourse.
The Kulturkampf in this context, as widespread secularization and Church censorship, was an effort to consolidate the mythology of the people. Catholics were using their traditions and dogma to gain political favor, which was empowering as it was unifying. The powers-that-be sought social unification through their own traditions, which, like any historical framework, was presented with the full spectrum of mythological archetypes (which Carl Jung would later hypothesize): Departure (the decision to unify), Initiation (the trials of war), and Return (the ultimate boon- unification). The two refused to co-exist.
What German mythology was a point of unity at this stage? The Grimm brothers collected and catalogued many of these specific myths, which have been since translated and gained world-renown. The fairy tale is not merely a moral apparatus, with life-applying metaphor, though this is an important function. The widespread dissemination by the Grimm brothers provided a strong commonality for the collective German psyche, the commonality of story. People could relate and embrace their German-ness through their folktales. Not only that, but the folk-tale seemed particularly relevant when the newfangled German citizen was caught up in their own mythical adventure, with their recent triumph and a heroic history unfolding before their eyes.
It can be argued, then, that the German government was championing its own mythology. Through the trials of war, a German legend was born, and each citizen was to embrace this legend as their own, and to share their history as a basis for unity. If the politics of the day were endorsing their success as heroic destiny, a real-life mythological feat, then it could only be at odds with the Catholic, who had their own Biblical myths and own political agenda to account for.
If myth is as unifying as I think, then the cohesion Catholics attained with a common mythological basis was threatening to the government and non-Catholic masses for that very reason. Anderson notes that in the context of social struggle, the Catholic Church had political appeal because it “provided a ready-made rhetoric” that accounted for class difference. The virtue of the poor is certainly part of the Biblical tradtion. It was this aspect of myth that gave clergy members like Father Muller grounds for political participation. The Catholic mobilization and organization that scared the state was firmly planted in mythology, a state that organized its citizens through its own mythological discourse.
The Kulturkampf in this context, as widespread secularization and Church censorship, was an effort to consolidate the mythology of the people. Catholics were using their traditions and dogma to gain political favor, which was empowering as it was unifying. The powers-that-be sought social unification through their own traditions, which, like any historical framework, was presented with the full spectrum of mythological archetypes (which Carl Jung would later hypothesize): Departure (the decision to unify), Initiation (the trials of war), and Return (the ultimate boon- unification). The two refused to co-exist.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Jewish Success- A Sad Catch-22
People are unified by hatred. Hatred isn’t the only way, of course, but it’s a strong one. Germany shows this early and often. For example, the Franco-Prussian War meant German unification under Prussia. Even though Southern German states loathed that idea, they loathed the French even more. So they mobilized and helped crush Napoleon III’s France, rubbing salt in the wound with a declaration of unification in the Versailles Palace. Napoleon III himself knew France suffered from domestic ailments that only hawkish foreign policy could redeem. Uniting the people through hatred of outsiders is one thing, namely nationalism (jingoism). But when a war doesn’t seem imminent, people are prone to seek enemies within. This is where German anti-Semitism has its roots.
It’s interesting that Germany was not the European hotbed of anti-Semitism in the late 19th century. Kitchen notes that “France, Russia, and Austria-Hungary far outbid Germany as centers of anti-Semitism, and the sneaky underhanded English brand of anti-Semitism was probably even more pernicious.” This conjures images of Russian pogroms and the notorious Dreyfus Affair. Jews were protected by the law in Germany, and were thus able to make their way up the social ladder through institutions like banking, the stock market, and the media. In 1908, 10 of the top 11 wealthiest citizens of Berlin were Jewish.
In a cruel catch-22, it is that very allowance of capital gain that spawned hatred for the German Jew. A successful community that always has the label of “the other” will naturally garner envy and insecurity. Envy and insecurity lead to fear, and fear leads to hatemongering. The mongering took off with a new kind of scientific anti-Semitism, which took the place of the traditional religious brand. Eugen Duhring’s ”The Jewish Question as a Racial, Moral and Cultural Problem,” published in 1881, embodies such ridiculous pseudo-science, in which the Jewish populace is viewed as biologically threatening. The classic role of scapegoat was also quite prominent. Jewish speculators were blamed for the 1874 stock exchange crash, and capitalism itself was denounced as Jewish. Fear of modernity led to hatred of the Jew.
Despite isolated violence, and the anti-Semitic theorizing of the day, the German Jewish community was doing well up to and after the turn of the 19th century, as “their rights were guaranteed by the law, upheld by the government, and supported by most political parties.” German Jews achieved prominence in society and wealth, embracing their German heritage all the while. Their success and doom rings of the government’s relaxation and censorship of years prior. The door was opened, (relaxation) and many Jewish people took advantage, becoming the wealthy sector that they did. Once they became wealthy, jealousy pervaded and they became the scapegoat for social ills. Needless to say, the turn the resulting “censorship” took has become the archetype of all historical horror.
It’s interesting that Germany was not the European hotbed of anti-Semitism in the late 19th century. Kitchen notes that “France, Russia, and Austria-Hungary far outbid Germany as centers of anti-Semitism, and the sneaky underhanded English brand of anti-Semitism was probably even more pernicious.” This conjures images of Russian pogroms and the notorious Dreyfus Affair. Jews were protected by the law in Germany, and were thus able to make their way up the social ladder through institutions like banking, the stock market, and the media. In 1908, 10 of the top 11 wealthiest citizens of Berlin were Jewish.
In a cruel catch-22, it is that very allowance of capital gain that spawned hatred for the German Jew. A successful community that always has the label of “the other” will naturally garner envy and insecurity. Envy and insecurity lead to fear, and fear leads to hatemongering. The mongering took off with a new kind of scientific anti-Semitism, which took the place of the traditional religious brand. Eugen Duhring’s ”The Jewish Question as a Racial, Moral and Cultural Problem,” published in 1881, embodies such ridiculous pseudo-science, in which the Jewish populace is viewed as biologically threatening. The classic role of scapegoat was also quite prominent. Jewish speculators were blamed for the 1874 stock exchange crash, and capitalism itself was denounced as Jewish. Fear of modernity led to hatred of the Jew.
Despite isolated violence, and the anti-Semitic theorizing of the day, the German Jewish community was doing well up to and after the turn of the 19th century, as “their rights were guaranteed by the law, upheld by the government, and supported by most political parties.” German Jews achieved prominence in society and wealth, embracing their German heritage all the while. Their success and doom rings of the government’s relaxation and censorship of years prior. The door was opened, (relaxation) and many Jewish people took advantage, becoming the wealthy sector that they did. Once they became wealthy, jealousy pervaded and they became the scapegoat for social ills. Needless to say, the turn the resulting “censorship” took has become the archetype of all historical horror.
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