IN THE FOOTNOTES OF HITLER: KEEPING TOXIC HISTORY AT BAY
Ottawa Citizen
Sept 7 2012
Canada
Those involved in nationalist disputes around the world can
learn from the footnotes of Mein Kampf and from the meaning of
Vergangenheitsbewaltigung, says Ben Macintyre
In the East China Sea, Japan and China are squabbling furiously over
a string of empty islands. Armenia says it is ready to go war with
Azerbaijan over a row that has its roots in the disputed region of
Nagorno-Karabakh. In Putin's Russia, the rehabilitation of Stalin
gathers pace, reflecting an authoritarian state's determination to
reshape history using a cult of strong leadership and nostalgia for
Russian power. Nearly 60 years after his death, the brutal Soviet
leader is being resurrected as the "Little Father" of his people.
In each case, politicians are deploying skewed and partisan versions
of the past to whip up anger, legitimise power and garner support. At
times of international uncertainty, history is up for grabs, to be
exploited for political ends.
How can the propagandists and manipulators of history be kept at bay?
The answer may lie in Germany, a country with a unique experience
of venomous nationalism that has pioneered a way to oppose those who
would pervert the politics of memory.
In 2015, the copyright of Mein Kampf will expire, ending a prohibition
on the publication of Hitler's repulsive book that has been in
place in Germany since the end of the war. Instead of attempting
to reimpose the ban, the state of Bavaria (which currently holds
copyright) has decided to publish a scholarly, cheap, annotated,
German-language edition of the book, in which every hateful word is
subjected to careful scrutiny and explanation. The footnote may be
the most powerful antidote to historical demagoguery.
In Russia, history is going backwards. Twenty years ago, Stalin was
a figure of universal condemnation. Today, Russian schoolchildren
are taught that Stalin was "an efficient manager" whose actions
were "rational". In a recent television poll to find "the greatest
Russian ever", Stalin (an ethnic Georgian) came third. Putin does
not praise Stalin openly, but as his own grip on Russia tightens,
he waxes nostalgic for the superpower Stalin created: "Anyone who
doesn't regret the passing of the Soviet Union has no heart."
A similar flattening and simplification of history is evident in
the fight between Japan and China over the Senkaku Islands. For the
nationalists of both sides, taking it in turns to raise their flags
on the barren rocks, the dispute is a matter of pride and honour. For
their governments, it is also about oil that may be harvested from
the surrounding seas, and strategic dominance in a region where power
is shifting.
By opting to buy the archipelago from its Japanese private owners,
Tokyo has deliberately upped the stakes, drawing in the United States,
which is bound to defend the islands under the US-Japanese Security
Treaty. China's claim to the islands (which it knows as Diaoyu)
represents another opportunity to demonstrate its growing power
in the region. As Hillary Clinton frankly acknowledged this week,
the dispute is not really about history at all, but rivalry between
"an established power and a rising power".
The footnotes, however, reveal a more complex (and far more
interesting) situation than nationalist politicians on either side
are prepared to admit. Ancient manuscripts indicate that the islands
were referred to as Chinese territory as early as 1534; Japan insists
that the islands have been legally Japanese since the Sino-Japanese
war of 1895, pointing out that Chinese claims of sovereignty emerged
only in the 1970s, after a study found potential oil reserves in the
surrounding seas. Complicating matters further, Tawian also claims
the islands.
The confrontation between Armenia and Azerbaijan over the convicted
killer Ramil Safarov is an even more stark example of how simplistic
nationalism can fuel and distort a long-running historical feud.
Safarov, an Azerbaijani, hacked to death an Armenian soldier after
the latter taunted him about Nagorno-Karabakh, the Armenian-dominated
enclave inside Azerbaijan over which the two countries fought a grim
six-year war ending in 1994. When Safarov was sent home to serve the
rest of his 30-year sentence, he was greeted as a hero, leading to
an explosion of fury in Armenia. Once again, a complicated sectarian
and religious feud has been seized on by nationalists, and presented
as a simple issue of national dignity.
Germany's experience, however, suggests that only historians can
provide the antidote to the poison of nationalist prejudice. The
decision to issue a fully annotated version of Mein Kampf is only
the latest example of the unblinking honesty with which successive
generations of German historians have set about addressing and
assessing the horrors of the past.
Christian Hartmann, the leading historian in the Mein Kampf project,
uses a military analogy to describe Hitler's archaic, anti-Semitic
treatise. "It is a rusty old grenade. We want to remove its
detonator." By identifying definitively the book's errors, origins,
context and effects, German historians may succeed in demystifying
Mein Kampf once and for all.
The other rusty historical grenades being dug up around the world
might be similarly defused. The way to undermine the rehabilitation
of Stalin is to expose, repeatedly, the horrors wrought by his
regime. If the disputes over Nagorno-Karabakh, the Senkaku Islands,
and even the Falklands could be shorn of nationalist posturing, and
examined as history, not politics, then resolution might be possible.
The wonderfully tongue-twisting term Vergangenheitsbewaltigung,
meaning "coming to terms with the past", was recently voted the most
beautiful word in the German language. It implies national catharsis as
opposed to nationalist pride; deliberate collective self-examination;
confronting causes rather than allocating blame.
Germany has come to terms with the past, in a way that other
nations should not only admire, but emulate. Wherever toxic history
bubbles up, we should ban the politicians, nationalist protesters,
propagandists and soldiers, and send in the historians, armed with
plenty of footnotes.
THE TIMES, LONDON
http://www.ottawacitizen.com/news/footnotes+Hitler+Keeping+toxic+history/7209417/story.html
Ottawa Citizen
Sept 7 2012
Canada
Those involved in nationalist disputes around the world can
learn from the footnotes of Mein Kampf and from the meaning of
Vergangenheitsbewaltigung, says Ben Macintyre
In the East China Sea, Japan and China are squabbling furiously over
a string of empty islands. Armenia says it is ready to go war with
Azerbaijan over a row that has its roots in the disputed region of
Nagorno-Karabakh. In Putin's Russia, the rehabilitation of Stalin
gathers pace, reflecting an authoritarian state's determination to
reshape history using a cult of strong leadership and nostalgia for
Russian power. Nearly 60 years after his death, the brutal Soviet
leader is being resurrected as the "Little Father" of his people.
In each case, politicians are deploying skewed and partisan versions
of the past to whip up anger, legitimise power and garner support. At
times of international uncertainty, history is up for grabs, to be
exploited for political ends.
How can the propagandists and manipulators of history be kept at bay?
The answer may lie in Germany, a country with a unique experience
of venomous nationalism that has pioneered a way to oppose those who
would pervert the politics of memory.
In 2015, the copyright of Mein Kampf will expire, ending a prohibition
on the publication of Hitler's repulsive book that has been in
place in Germany since the end of the war. Instead of attempting
to reimpose the ban, the state of Bavaria (which currently holds
copyright) has decided to publish a scholarly, cheap, annotated,
German-language edition of the book, in which every hateful word is
subjected to careful scrutiny and explanation. The footnote may be
the most powerful antidote to historical demagoguery.
In Russia, history is going backwards. Twenty years ago, Stalin was
a figure of universal condemnation. Today, Russian schoolchildren
are taught that Stalin was "an efficient manager" whose actions
were "rational". In a recent television poll to find "the greatest
Russian ever", Stalin (an ethnic Georgian) came third. Putin does
not praise Stalin openly, but as his own grip on Russia tightens,
he waxes nostalgic for the superpower Stalin created: "Anyone who
doesn't regret the passing of the Soviet Union has no heart."
A similar flattening and simplification of history is evident in
the fight between Japan and China over the Senkaku Islands. For the
nationalists of both sides, taking it in turns to raise their flags
on the barren rocks, the dispute is a matter of pride and honour. For
their governments, it is also about oil that may be harvested from
the surrounding seas, and strategic dominance in a region where power
is shifting.
By opting to buy the archipelago from its Japanese private owners,
Tokyo has deliberately upped the stakes, drawing in the United States,
which is bound to defend the islands under the US-Japanese Security
Treaty. China's claim to the islands (which it knows as Diaoyu)
represents another opportunity to demonstrate its growing power
in the region. As Hillary Clinton frankly acknowledged this week,
the dispute is not really about history at all, but rivalry between
"an established power and a rising power".
The footnotes, however, reveal a more complex (and far more
interesting) situation than nationalist politicians on either side
are prepared to admit. Ancient manuscripts indicate that the islands
were referred to as Chinese territory as early as 1534; Japan insists
that the islands have been legally Japanese since the Sino-Japanese
war of 1895, pointing out that Chinese claims of sovereignty emerged
only in the 1970s, after a study found potential oil reserves in the
surrounding seas. Complicating matters further, Tawian also claims
the islands.
The confrontation between Armenia and Azerbaijan over the convicted
killer Ramil Safarov is an even more stark example of how simplistic
nationalism can fuel and distort a long-running historical feud.
Safarov, an Azerbaijani, hacked to death an Armenian soldier after
the latter taunted him about Nagorno-Karabakh, the Armenian-dominated
enclave inside Azerbaijan over which the two countries fought a grim
six-year war ending in 1994. When Safarov was sent home to serve the
rest of his 30-year sentence, he was greeted as a hero, leading to
an explosion of fury in Armenia. Once again, a complicated sectarian
and religious feud has been seized on by nationalists, and presented
as a simple issue of national dignity.
Germany's experience, however, suggests that only historians can
provide the antidote to the poison of nationalist prejudice. The
decision to issue a fully annotated version of Mein Kampf is only
the latest example of the unblinking honesty with which successive
generations of German historians have set about addressing and
assessing the horrors of the past.
Christian Hartmann, the leading historian in the Mein Kampf project,
uses a military analogy to describe Hitler's archaic, anti-Semitic
treatise. "It is a rusty old grenade. We want to remove its
detonator." By identifying definitively the book's errors, origins,
context and effects, German historians may succeed in demystifying
Mein Kampf once and for all.
The other rusty historical grenades being dug up around the world
might be similarly defused. The way to undermine the rehabilitation
of Stalin is to expose, repeatedly, the horrors wrought by his
regime. If the disputes over Nagorno-Karabakh, the Senkaku Islands,
and even the Falklands could be shorn of nationalist posturing, and
examined as history, not politics, then resolution might be possible.
The wonderfully tongue-twisting term Vergangenheitsbewaltigung,
meaning "coming to terms with the past", was recently voted the most
beautiful word in the German language. It implies national catharsis as
opposed to nationalist pride; deliberate collective self-examination;
confronting causes rather than allocating blame.
Germany has come to terms with the past, in a way that other
nations should not only admire, but emulate. Wherever toxic history
bubbles up, we should ban the politicians, nationalist protesters,
propagandists and soldiers, and send in the historians, armed with
plenty of footnotes.
THE TIMES, LONDON
http://www.ottawacitizen.com/news/footnotes+Hitler+Keeping+toxic+history/7209417/story.html