Rudolf Höss

Rudolf Höss, in his memoir about his role in the Holocaust, writes that "I had received an order [for a mass anihilation of the Jews]; I had to carry it out." It is with this straightforward, unembellished, unemotional diction that Höss recounts his experiences as a commandant and overseer of concentration camps. Höss explains the hierarchy of the Nazi system and his capabilities and restrictions as an SS officer. Perhaps some sympathy should be given here to officers like Höss in the system; severe consequences would face them if they disobeyed or questioned their superiors, so how would they dodge the order for the Final Solution? Suicide would be one answer, alcohol another. The truth is that many involved in the order for the extermination of the Jews had little mobility to escape the role designed for them, regardless of their personal beliefs. I think many oversee the mental suffering such people had, in being forced to perform such inhumane acts on innocent human beings. But then again, Höss does not seem to extend much remorse towards what he did against the Jewish people; he writes that he "personally never hated the Jews" but "considered them to be the enemy" of the German nation, which therefore justified the order for him. The only guilt that seems to surface is when Höss describes his relief that the Jews would be put to death by gassing and not by firing squads that were much more painful to witness. But in Höss' accounts of Jews hopelessly awaiting their fate a clear sense of human suffering is understood and shared by Höss.  Human suffering reached over both sides of the Holocaust, and although things are often easier to digest in black and white, it is not fair to assume that all Germans were evil. Such an assumption has tainted the German people since World War II. 

Nazi Propaganda

Propaganda was a tool vital to the Nazi Party in order to sustain power in Germany. Propaganda allowed the party to move through with radical and controversial plans without little resistance; propaganda gave Hitler and his party the means to implant their goals of German expansion and the Final Solution. And however ridiculous or far-fetched the reasonings provided by propaganda may seem today, in a country suffering from starvation, unemployment, and a desolate economy, the promises offered by the Nazi Party and the arguments the party proposed acted as a seedling of hope for many Germans. A major component of Nazi propaganda was anti-Semitism. The Nazi Party argued that the stabilization of Germany was reliant on the advancement of the Aryan race and that the Jewish people were at fault for the current disorder in Germany. While it seems ludicrous that an entire people could be blamed for the conditions in Germany, which relied on many different political and economic factors, could be held responsible, the Nazi Party addressed their crafty proponents of propaganda to a populace that so wished to trust in their government to bring long-awaited stability that it was willing to believe in the information its government provided for them. In a Nazi propaganda film, the Jewish persona is catalogued and discussed. The narrator paints a picture of a people who are sly and malicious in intent, disguising themselves and their Jewish background to threaten "the health of the Aryan peoples." Without providing so much as any scientific or historical proof, the film simply generalizes the Jewish people as the source of corruption in mankind. Later on in the film, the narrator says "It is not true that Jews are forced into trade because other professions are closed to them. On the contrary, they welcome trade eagerly, because it suits their character and natural inclination." Depending on when this film was made, this claim could be in direct contradiction with one of the laws passed under the Nuremberg Laws that stated that Jews would not be allowed to practice any profession they chose to. Although the film today seems absurd, detailing how to tell a Jew from a member of the Aryan race, in Germany, during the 1920s and 1930s, people, distracted by their wants of stabilization and prosperity, were hypnotized into believing in the Nazi Party and its aims.

Hitler's Art

If art is a form of self-expression, a means for the artist to communicate a certain perspective to the viewer, then examining Adolf Hilter's art provides an immediate conundrum. Although it might not be fair to say, one could assume, by the fascist leader's reputation alone, that his art would be filled with dark subjects and twisted logic. But Hitler's art is anything but. The gentle, serene architectural scenes or colorful depictions of flowers that fill his artistic repertoire present an artistic Hilter that contradicts the fascist Hilter who led Germany into World War II and who was responsible for the deaths of millions of innocent people. In a way, Hitler's drawings and water-colorings make him a little more human, that someone who seemed so capable of destroying lives without remorse also seemed to hold some gratitude for beauty. But at the same time, this reading makes me uncomfortable. It makes Hitler seem all the more senseless; the fact that he had this appreciation for beauty and yet still had the capacity to destroy it makes him even more inhumane. The Hitler as an artist does not match the Hitler as a fascist leader, but I am curious about how Hitler was able to transform himself from this artistic persona to a destructive one, or if these two seemingly opposing personas actually work hand-in-hand to define Hitler's character. In an article by the Hitler Historical Museum it is suggested that Hitler's creative genius, his "instinctual drive to create something out of nothing makes the artist uniquely qualified to lead and inspire a nation." This hypothesis is pretty generalized but maybe such a simple interpretation is the only kind we are willing to accept; the relationship between Hitler's art and his political career is something that delves deep into Hitler's mind and psyche, something that for many appears uncomfortable in that it requires trying to reason and understand the workings of a man reputed for one of the greatest evils in world history.

Response to Group Work

Both Alex and Nick discussed fascism in relation to democracy in their posts. Alex examined Stalin's terminology of the word "democracy" to describe the U.S.S.R. while Nick suggested a way in which democracy could lead to fascism. Both topics brush on the interesting relationship democracy and fascism share. On the broadest level, democracy and fascism seem to be at opposite ends of the governmental system scale; a democracy is focused on the individual, and his or her decisive role in government, while fascism holds the state above the individual, and the individual's power only comes in relation to the state. So how could Stalin describe a fascist government as the best example of democracy, and how could a democracy move so drastically to a fascist state? Democracy is strangely similar to fascism when you consider the ideology of the two political systems. For starters, the two systems believe in the common man, or the proletariat, as the heart of the people. The systems refute any favoring of the elite class. Both systems believe in rationally-guided and civilized societies, where actions are justified as either beneficial to the populace or to the state and where stability is forever an aim. I think Nick's point that fascism was able to develop post-World War I because of political instability and demoralized citizens is right on. It can be assumed that a populace will always desire a democracy, citizens will always want a say in their government. And while democracy might be the ultimate goal, the destruction the war brought urged people to grasp onto any hope of stability they could find; fascism promised stability as well as "democratic" goals of equality. This latter point is one that Alex talked about: fascism could be seen as democratic in the way that it eliminated class distinctions, paving an equal playing field for all citizens. Democracy and fascism are drastically different political systems when considering their entireties , but it is interesting that such different systems can still share similar goals and beliefs.

Fascism: the next step or a seized opportunity?

Marx theorized that communism would be the natural resultant of the collapse of capitalism. For Marx, it wasn't if capitalism would ever fail, but when. In this light, it would be justifiable why fascism became popular following the end of WWI. Following the war, Europe's economies were shot--war had consumed too much money and now countries were left in debt to other countries and practically immobile economically. Stalin stood against capitalism, saying that capitalism depended on and led to war, and here was the proof. Capitalism was in no way the sole cause of WWI, but its gross presence in Europe certainly influenced the war's onset. People were disgruntled and afraid in the aftermath of the war and all looked for some sense of stability. Fascism grew out of the war's destruction as a hope for stability and as an answer to capitalism's failures. While capitalism promoted individuality, under fascism, the state was everything--everyone and everything did not work for themselves but for the prosperity of the state. For the countries that lost most in the war, including Russia, Germany, and Italy, fascism became a means for nationalism and revitalization. Capitalism had knocked them all down, and they were going to remake themselves in a new fashion. Fascist leaders argued that fascism was the way of the future, but we know now that things did not turn out the way these leaders envisioned. Capitalism has continued to thrive and the major fascist and communist states have not only disintegrated, but subsequently turned to capitalism. In this way, Marx's theory has so far proved to be false, and that maybe fascism was only a marker of its time. The delicate emotions and tensions involved in the aftermath of WWI provided ground for such radical governments to grow from. If it wasn't for the way policies were handled following the war--if Russia, Germany, and Italy hadn't come out on the more unfavorable side--it is possible that the fascist era wouldn't have developed at all. Fascism relied on turmoil and dissatisfaction in order to prosper; the aftermath of WWI provided it with the tools to do so.

Stalin and Russia's Industrialization

The debate over how to view Stalin's approach to industrializing Russia is a delicate one; on the one hand, you have a leader who deemed it necessary to ruthlessly kill millions of citizens in the name of Russia and industrialization, but on the other hand, you have someone who saw the critical need for industrialization and took perhaps the fastest and most effective way possible of grasping that industrialization. After reading about Nate's, Andra's, and Mia's perspectives on the topic, I feel I should contribute my own. I find myself in agreement with Mia. Coming from a democratic nation, where dictatorship is prevented by checks and balances and where justice is considered an integral part of the legal system, we naturally see only the brutal side of Stalin's approach. And no matter if our own ideologies conflict with Stalin's on every level, I don't think what Stalin did for Russia in terms of industrialization can be overlooked. Russia was far behind; the Crimean War had begun Russia's downfall politically and militarily in the world, and the outcomes of World War I only solidified Russia's fading presence. As we have seen, it had taken Russia centuries to build itself up to the power it was before the Crimean War; reigns of corrupt and weak tsars had stalled progress between the progressive reigns of such tsars as Peter the Great and Catherine the Great and medieval traditions such as serfdom plagued Russia's progression all the way up until the 19th century. And now, a country that was burdened with traditions and systems of the past was met with the prosperous capitalism of the west, which only highlighted even more Russia's delay in progression. While it could be argued that Stalin's drastic approach only quickened a process that would come naturally to Russia over time, I believe the key part that refutes this argument is capitalism. The nature of capitalism is speed: capitalism allowed for rapid industrialization in the west, it allowed for swift market expansion, and it allowed for countries to gain prosperity more quickly, building them up as major powers of politics and economics in Europe. Capitalism would not accept a slow industrialization of Russia over centuries, as had been its trend in the past, and capitalism would be heartless; if Russia couldn't keep up, it would simply be left behind. Although Stalin was against capitalism, an industrialized Russia would have to be built to compete with the West's capitalism. Speed was Stalin's focus; he needed to industrialize Russia, and he needed to do it fast. Any time lost would inhibit Russia's reinstatement as a powerful figure in Europe. His methods for industrializing Russia might be tasteless from a western perspective--but a country, whose foundations had been shook to the ground, whose military and economic strength had been decimated, would not have been able to get back on its feet in a matter of decades unless drastic measures were implemented.  Stalin's methods, however brutal they can be seen to be, industrialized Russia, tightened its structure, stabilizing its political system and providing a structured society that could more or less support the population, and reinstating Russia as one of the great world powers. 

Group Summary

In Nick's March 5th post, he talks about the ideological and imperialistic tone of Woodrow Wilson's Fourteen Points. The Fourteen Points symbolized the United States' strengthening role as a global power, suggesting the amendments Europe needs to make following the war with emphases on the United States' liberal and democratic values. While Nick points out that Wilson's rhetoric recalls an imperialistic tone, calling for the world to "be made fit and safe to live in," I do think that the setting in which the Fourteen Points was written in should not be lost. The Fourteen Points responded to World War I and its aims, although idealistic and maybe far to generalized, were meant to inspire peace and hopes of prosperity in Europe in the aftermath of the war. When Wilson writes that "every peace-loving nation,...like our own, wishes to live its own life [and] determine its own institutions," he seems to be referring to the peaceful and respecting stance European countries can take in the future instead of the hostile  and suspicious ones that helped lead Europe into war initially. Although relations to imperialism can be made here, I think it is more important to understand the democratic and independent sentiments Wilson wished to instill in Europe. In Alex's March 10th post, Alex critiques the vagueness, indeterminacy, and perhaps contradictions of several points in Wilson's Fourteen Points. Alex points out that in several points, Wilson suggests that people in specified countries need to be evacuated and redistributed. Although his intent is to create more balanced and culturally-united countries so that internal feuds between different cultures would not arise, Wilson fails to take into account what exactly would be required to do such a reorganization, including reformation of governments, territorial lines, and internal feuds. Wilson's Fourteen Points was not an official document incorporated into European countries' rebuilding plan following the war--therefore, I think it is okay that Wilson's points are so vague. The significance of the Fourteen Points is not so much the specified steps it suggests Europe should take, but rather the democratic undertone that signified America's growing influence on Europe. The Fourteen Points represents a generalized ideology for peace, fair trade, and democracy that, while symbolic of what values America believed Europe should follow, did not represent a document that could ever be fully utilized or implemented. 

The Treaty of Versailles

By the end of World War I, Europe was exhausted. Lives had been sacrificed, money had been absorbed, and Europe lay in ruins, both physically and figuratively. Public sentiment hoped for an end to the war and its disastrous effects, but it also grew weary of what to expect from the war's aftermath. Europe needed to stabilize itself and the Treaty of Versailles, signed on June 28, 1919, became the source of hope for Europe's revitalization. However, the negotiations reached in the treaty did not attempt to mask the feelings much of Europe held towards Germany. Germany was forced to take the blame for the outcome of the war. The major powers overseeing the decisions for the treaty were Great Britain, France, Italy, Japan, and the United States, and Germany's absence from the conference gave the other powers an opportunity to burden Germany with all sorts of reparations that Germany could not refuse. This cartoon illustrates Germany's muted position after the war, being force-fed terms from the main constituents of the treaty. Great Britain, France, and Italy, all in major debt to the United States, saw Germany as the scapegoat for their financial straits. Germany's territory was jabbed with as well as its military capabilities. The country was "demilitarized" and other nations' forces were sent to Germany to monitor the country. Germany entered the war, confident in their skills and determined to come out on top. Germany left the war without a functioning military, a barely afloat economy, a frustrated people, and the burden of the entire war. The Versailles Treaty had the intentions to resurface Europe, but its focus was imbalanced and favored. The major powers benefited, but other countries besides Germany suffered as well from the terms, having their territory reshaped or redefined; even Italy faced frustration when terms from the London Treaty were overlooked. The Versailles Treaty looked to immediate aid for Europe rather than creating prose that could last into the future; it's terms furthered tension between countries that would rise until the onset of WWII. 

WWI

For the first time in a long time, Europe was united in 1918--not in harmony and peace--but in grief. The effects of World War I were felt across the entirety of Europe. It was impossible to escape news of death and destruction caused by the warfare remained as markers to evoke memories of war. Nothing like World War I had ever been fought before: people, countries, and strategies worked together in ways that they never before had to interact in. World War I was fought on unfamiliar and untried territory; its mixing of old, traditional battlefield strategies with modern technological innovations resulted in destruction of such mass proportions Europe had never been exposed to. This video illustrates several new practices that were utilized during the war that helped shape the war into something beyond what any European could have projected. The footage in the beginning of the video shows the soldier recruitment process. Hundreds of thousands of civilians signed up for regimens, clueless on what they were about to be taking part in. The video demonstrates the sheer mechanicalness of the entire process: massive lines of citizens were rolled through assembly lines of recruiters, shuffling through to fill out papers confirming their recruitment with as much ease as products would move down a conveyor belt in a factory. There was certainly a spirit of nationalism in the recruitment process, committing one's life to the service of his country. But in this dedication to the nation, there was also a sense of lost individuality. Citizens, coming from all different kinds of backgrounds and occupational work, were drawn into a homogenous mass of soldiers, all fighting and dying for a single cause. The monstrous number of soldier deaths during the war could not allow an emphasis on individual memorialization; the scale of death just became a symbol for the unruly destruction more so than a count of individuals lost. Many soldiers who died at the battlefields were never even identified. The number of soldiers employed in the war was something Europe had never dealt with before; the deaths amounting from such numbers were justifiably hard to comprehend. Later in the video, machine guns are heard, pointing out another new element World War I brought to the table. Traditional strategies calling on soldiers to run and directly attack their opponents had worked for centuries in Europe; however, these strategies applied to WWI failed horribly as they failed to take into account the strength of 20th century warfare. Machine guns, grenades, and canons could wipe out huge numbers fast, and a change in strategy was necessary but was not realized until the end of the war. New weaponry changed the course of battle, but amid transition from traditional to 20th century warfare, many lives were lost as armies tried to fight an 18th century war with modern technology. The radicalness and inexperience World War I introduced to Europeans immortalized the war forever in European history.

Summary of Nietzsche and Freud

By the 20th century, capitalism, imperialism, and centuries of political and militaristic dominance had lodged a seed of confidence deep into the European mindset. It is interesting that amidst the imperialist endeavors of major powers Britain, France, and Germany that the work of Nietzsche and Freud began to be popularized. Nietzsche and Freud both worked with abstract theories of the human nature that both questioned and undermined civilization's preconceptions and institutions. Above all, Nietzsche and Freud emphasized humans' irrefutable animalness and the constant tension that arises from civilization's attempted suppression of humans' natural impulses. Civilization stresses peace over war, community over individualism, generosity over selfishness; but Nietzsche and Freud argued that these ideals were artificial, mere paintings of what humanity could be, maybe should be, but not what humanity was itself in actuality. Nietzsche and Freud stripped society from its romanticized entities, removing the blinds people in society had been living through and exposing them to the less-than-pleasant realities of their actions and emotions. Nietzsche, for example, attacked a founding distinction that separates civilization from nature: morality. He states that "morality is a hindrance to the development of new and better customs: it makes stupid" (Nietzsche, Daybreaks). Civilization is meant to improve, refine humanity, to advocate the best for humankind; but Nietzsche claims that civilization is actually handicaps humankind, that morality, defined and stipulated by civilization, is detrimental to humanity. Does this mean that people instead should act immorally, without the barriers imposed by society? Freud likewise posed an argument against love, a seemingly gentle and natural occurrence in society. Freud dissolves all of love's poetic associations to say that love is no more than an "aim-inhibited" sexuality. Love is nothing special nor romantic, but rather a natural, raw impulse. This means that centuries of European literature and artwork inspired by love and longstanding ideals of love as a strong force that can stabilize a relationship and a nation all boil down to nothing more than a sexual impulse. Both Nietzsche and Freud de-romanticized European society and devalued the special niche humanity over centuries had constructed for itself. 

Freud

Freud's studies on the subconscious and psychoanalysis brought a new element to the field of science that is still hard to grasp even today. 19th century science and society ran on notions of tangibility. Naturally people are much more willing to agree and be confident about ideas that can be witnessed and experienced. Nietzsche challenged this safe tangibility and Freud seemed to incorporate a similar thinking into his own work. The human mind is something so abstract, yet so powerful that analysis of it seems necessary. But the sheer vagueness of it is foreboding. The mind is a central component of the human psyche, an entity that endows humans with independent thought, but its abstractness narrows the success of any classically scientific approach taken to it. Freud's extensive theories on the mind provided introspective views to its indefinite nature, but Freud's work did not model itself in traditional scientific approach to theories, which relied on hard evidence and provable hypotheses. Freud's work explores the mind's depths through complex terms, but it would forever remain hypotheses; no manufactured scientific tool or practice could affirm or refute Freud's studies. The unprovable nature of Freud's work further influenced science in a way that Nietzsche had first contributed to. The idea that science was exact, proven truths, was refuted by Nietzsche with his belief that truth was in itself unprovable. Freud's scientific endeavours incorpated scientific study that was founded in the irrational and intangible; his ideas were well-respected but could never be accepted as truths. As the 20th century approached, Freud's work expanded the realm of science by suggesting that science did not have to lead to final conclusions.

Nietzsche

Nietzsche challenged the late 19th century preconceptions of reason, the human condition, science, and truth with a negativity and bluntness that shook the foundations of these deep-rooted ideas. Beginning in the Enlightenment, European society began to center around the rational, believing that everything is propelled by reason. Philosophers and scientists drove this ideology into a common belief system in Europe, which science, politics, and economic institutions were designed to follow. But the assumption that society is driven by reason cemented in political or scientific proof was refuted by Nietzsche, who said that reason came into this world, not as a result of enlightened and scientific thinking, but "in an irrational manner, by accident" (Nietzsche, Daybreak). Reason, which gives society justification and purpose, did not materialize itself as a proponent of reason, but as some sort of fluke? This idea not only questions the viability of science and reason-directed activity in society, but weakens the idea of human nature. The enlightened characterization of humanity painted humans with capabilities of thought and rationale exclusive to the human population over all of earth's other creatures. However, Nietzsche suggests that reason's development in society was mere happenstance and not a natural manifestation of human nature. Could humans therefore not be as unique and specialized that centuries of philosophy and science had told them? Nietzsche not only attacked the notion of reason, but directly challenged science's association with truth. By the 19th century, science was a well-founded and well-respected institution in society, and scientific theories and discoveries were not only prominent issues discussed in society, but they led the way to "truths" society, its institutions and its people, believed in. Scientific evidence seemed to prove concrete truths, but Nietzsche instead believed that truths were not as substantial and existing as science made them out to be, but were "illusions," metaphors of human connections and interactions that have been so engraved into the minds of individuals that their abstractness and unprovable nature had been lost in science's interpretation of truths as exacting and solidifying. Suggesting that truth is in fact nothing that can be forever assumed to be true and unchanging questions the existence and belief in science as well as the foundations of society, which if not built on concrete evidence, is built on unstable and worrisome ground. Nietzsche's challenge of European society's well-implemented beliefs in reason and truth shaped society into a dangerous setting, one that is spontaneous and untrusting. This version of society is unsettling, but such a tone seems to be a common theme of Nietzsche. Amidst the industrialization and new imperialism of 19th century Europe that inflated countries' prides and superiority more than ever, Nietszche tears through society's foundations with a pessimistic drive, cautioning Europeans to regard themselves and society in a different light, one that challenged the confident 19th century mindset.