Journal articles on the topic 'World War, 1939-1945 – Diplomatic history – Germany'

On May 4, 2006, French and German cultural ministers announced the publication of Histoire/Geschichte, the world's first secondary school history textbook produced jointly by two countries. Authored by a team of French and German historians and published simultaneously in both languages, the book's release drew considerable public attention. French and German heads-of-state readily pointed to the joint history textbook as a shining example of the close and positive relations between their two countries, while their governments heralded the book for “symbolically sealing Franco-German reconciliation.” Beyond European shores, East Asian commentators in particular have taken note of Franco-German textbook collaboration, citing it as a possible model for how to work through their own region's often antagonistic past. Diplomatic praise is not mere hyperbole. From the Franco-Prussian War (1870) through World War I (1914–1918) and World War II (1939–1945), France and Germany were widely perceived to be “hereditary enemies.” The publication of Histoire/Geschichte embodies one of the most crucial developments in modern international relations: the emergence of France and Germany as the “linchpin” of the New Europe.

Recently released files from the collection (fond) of Josif Stalin's papers in the former Central Party Archive in Moscow have shed new light on the development of postwar S viet diplomatic historiography, particularly in relation to Stalin's personal role in framing the official rationale and justification for the Nazis viet pact of 1939–1941. This episode gave rise to a policy of archivebased publications in the mid 1950s and pr vided the foundation for later Soviet (and posts viet) treatments of the diplomatic history of the Second World War and other topics.

From ancient times, war was called "the creator of all things". And winners created the postwar world order. The article reveals the backstage, the diplomatic history of the Great Patriotic War, which make the picture of the main events of the war, that culminated in victory May 1945 in the capital of the defeated Third Reich, complete. The decisive role of the Soviet Union and its armed forces in the defeat of Nazi Germany and its allies was the strong foundation on which to build the strategy and tactics of Soviet diplomacy during the war. It was implemented in the course of negotiations with the Western Allies - the United States and Britain, led by President Roosevelt and Prime Minister Churchill. World history teaches, large and small wars have been fought on Earth for centuries for specific political interests. In this context, the Second World War has been a shining example not only to curb the aggressor states, the liberation of peoples from the Nazi tyranny, but also an attempt by the victor to organize a new, better postwar world order to guarantee a durable and lasting peace based on the cooperation of the allied states. But the allies in the war did not become allies in the organization of the postwar world. Their collaboration briefly survived the end of hostilities and was overshadowed start turning to the Cold War. It was largely due to the US desire to realize their material advantages to the detriment of the Soviet Union after the war and build a system that would be a one-sided expression of the interests of Washington. Americans, especially after the death of President Roosevelt, and during his successor Truman understood international cooperation as an assertion of its global leadership while ignoring the interests of the Soviet Union, which bore the brunt of the war.

AbstractMircea Eliade, the writer and historian of religions, and Ernst Jünger, the hero of the Great War, novelist, and essayist, met in the 1950s and co-edited twelve issues of the periodical Antaios. Before they met and cooperated, however, and while the German writer knew about Eliade from their common friend, Carl Schmitt, they both dealt with the subject of human sacrifice. Eliade began to do so in the thirties, and his interest in that theme was at least in part an aspect of his political activism on behalf of the Legion of the Archangel Michael, or the Iron Guard, the nationalistic and anti-Semitic movement lead by Corneliu Codreanu. Sacrificial ideology was a central aspect of the Legion's political theories, as well as of the practice of its members. After the Iron Guard was outlawed by its allies, and many of its members had been killed, and while the Romanian regime of Marshal Ion Antonescu was still fighting alongside the National Socialist regime in the Second World War, Eliade turned to other aspects of sacrificial ideology. In 1939 he wrote the play Iphigenia, celebrating Agamemnon's daughter as a willing victim whose death made the Greek conquest of Troy possible; and as a member of the regime's diplomatic service in Lisbon he published a book in Portuguese on Romanian virtues (1943), in which he presented what he called Two Myths of Romanian Spirituality, extolling his nation's readiness to die through the description of the sacrificial traditions of Master Manole and of the Ewe Lamb (Mioritza). Jünger's attitude to sacrifice ran along lines that were less traditional: possibly already while serving as a Wehrmacht officer, in his pamphlet Der Friede, the German writer attributed sacrificial status to all the victims of the Second World War, soldiers, workmen, and unknowing innocents, and saw their death as the ransom of a peace "without victory or defeat." In this article, the sacrificial ideologies of the two intellectuals are compared in order to reflect upon the complex interplay between traditional religious themes, more or less freely re-interpreted and transformed, political power, and violent conflict, in an age of warfare marked by fascisms and by the terrible massacre some refer to by the name of an ancient Greek sacrificial practice.

In this paper the international political situation, which was established in Europe and in the world in the latter half of the 30s of the 20th century, is investigated. The authors draw a comparison between the 20s and 30s of the 20th century, pointing out that the 30s brought a series of military conflicts, as well as say that the fear of a new great war has been appeared throughout the world. Attention is drawn to the inactivity of the League of Nations, which failed to ensure a collective security policy between 1936 and 1938. Special attention has been drawn to the appeasement policy and the role of Great Britain and France in this policy, who did not want to bring the situation to military confrontation. It is pointed out that by the mid-1930s Germany went on the offensive and set itself the goal of achieving supremacy in Europe. Special attention is drawn to the reaction of Western countries to Hitler’s aggressive policy, as well as the actions of the Soviet Union and the policy carried out by Moscow on the eve of World War II are assessed. It is stated that in 1938-1939 the world policy increasingly focused on particular regions, where the conflict number and intensity were increasing sharply. The role of the Munich Conference in September 1938 and the fact that the initiative in international affairs was completely transferred to A. Hitler upon the signing of the agreement are determined. The policy of Great Britain and France after the Munich Conspiracy is analysed; it is explained why London and Paris thought primarily about personal security. A special place in this paper is given to the explanation of why the existing international system could no longer ensure the world order and why war becomes inevitable. The authors come to the conclusion that although Hitler managed to win the diplomatic struggle on the eve of World War II, but he did not finally become a triumphant.

AbstractMany of the forms and practices of interwar internationalism were recreated under the auspices of the Nazi ‘New Europe’. This article will examine these forms of ‘Axis internationalism’ by looking at Spanish health experts' involvement with Nazi Germany during the Second World War. Despite the ambiguous relationship between the Franco regime and the Axis powers, a wide range of Spanish health experts formed close ties with colleagues from Nazi Germany and across Axis and occupied Europe. Many of those involved were relatively conservative figures who also worked with liberal international health organisations in the pre- and post-war eras. Despite their political differences, their opposing attitudes towards eugenics and the tensions caused by German hegemony, Spanish experts were able to rationalise their involvement with Nazi Germany as a mutually-beneficial continuation of pre-war international health cooperation amongst countries united by a shared commitment to modern, ‘totalitarian’ forms of public health. Despite the hostility of Nazi Germany and its European collaborators to both liberal and left-wing forms of internationalism, this phenomenon suggests that the ‘New Europe’ deserves to be studied as part of the wider history of internationalism in general and of international health in particular.

The actions, attitudes and experiences of German society between 1939 and 1945 played a crucial role in ensuring that the Second World War was not only ‘the most immense and costly ever fought’ but also a conflict which uniquely resembled the ideal type of a ‘total war’. The Nazi regime mobilised German society on an unprecedented scale: over 18 million men served in the Wehrmacht and Waffen SS, and compulsoryVolkssturmduty, initiated as Allied forces approached Germany's borders in September 1944, embraced further millions of the young and middle-aged. The German war effort, above all in occupied Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union, claimed the lives of millions of Jewish and gentile civilians and served explicitly genocidal ends. In this most ‘total’ of conflicts, the sheer scale of the Third Reich's ultimate defeat stands out, even in comparison with that of Imperial Japan, which surrendered to the Allies prior to an invasion of its Home Islands. When the war in Europe ended on 8 May 1945 Allied forces had occupied almost all of Germany, with its state and economic structures lying in ruins. Some 4.8 million German soldiers and 300,000 Waffen SS troops lost their lives during the Second World War, including 40 per cent of German men born in 1920. According to recent estimates Allied bombing claimed approximately 350,000 to 380,000 victims and inflicted untold damage on the urban fabric of towns and cities across the Reich. As Nicholas Stargardt notes, this was truly ‘a German war like no other’.

No other country in the world suffered a greater measurable and verifiable loss of human and material resources than Poland during World War II in 1939-1945. According to the first approximation, the value of human and material losses inflicted to Poland by Nazi Germany amounts to 6.495 trillion US dollars of 2018.However, Poland never received war reparations from Germany. The article is a preliminary survey of the complex issue – conducted in an interdisciplinary way combining elements of legal, economic, and political analysis, because the topic belongs to the wide and multidisciplinary field of national and international security. Refuted in the article is an internationally popular myth that communist Poland unilaterally renounced German war reparations in 1953. Then the article discusses the global background of the topic in the 20th and 21st centuries – in particular, the case of Greece whose reparations claims Germany rejects like the Polish claims, and major cases of reparations actually paid: by Germany for World War I, by Germany to Israel and Jewish organizations for the Holocaust, by Japan for World War II – at 966 billion US dollars of 2018, the largest reparations ever – and by and Iraq for the Gulf War. The article concludes with a discussion of necessary further research with advanced methodology of several sciences, and of a possible litigation before the International Court of Justice – or a diplomatic solution to the problem of war reparations.

Far too often studies in contemporary history have concentrated on national stories. By contrast, this article analyses wartime discourses about and practices against fascism in France, Germany and Italy in a comparative and – as far as possible – transnational perspective. By looking at individual biographies some general aspects of socialist anti-fascism, as well as similarities and differences within anti-fascism, shall be identified and start to fill the gap which Jacques Droz left in 1985 when he ended hisHistoire de l'antifascisme en Europewith the outbreak of the Second World War. To visualise the transnational dimension of socialist anti-fascism both in discourse and practice different categories shall be considered. These include historical analyses and projects for the post-war order in letters, newspapers, periodicals, pamphlets and books, acts of solidarity like mutual aid networks set up by groups and institutions and forms of collaboration in resistance movements.

Public opinion polls taken between 1939 and 1945 questioned Americans’ attitudes toward Japan and Germany and toward the people of Japan and Japanese Americans. The polls’ quantified responses provide previously overlooked data that should be taken into account by scholars of Japanese American and World War II history.

This article describes the history of the judicial system of the Uzbek SSR in 1939-1945 on the basis of a comparative analysis of a large number of historical sources and legal documents. According to the Stalinist Constitution and the law on the judicial system adopted in 1938, changes in the judicial system of the Uzbek SSR, the national composition of judges, staff turnover and the factors that led to this were discussed. The article also describes the mobilization of judges from Uzbekistan to the front after the invasion of the Soviet Union by fascist Germany, increasing the competence of military tribunals, types of criminal and civil cases considered by courts of general jurisdiction, activities carried out in the field of training lawyers

Introduction.The article deals with the problem of forced labor in Nazi Germany during the Second World War. Despite the existence of profound scientific publications devoted to this problem in Russia and abroad, it still needs to be developed. The article emphasizes the urgency of its research in historical, anthropological and humanities perspective, because personal experience of those who survived after forced labor in Nazi Germany, must be stored in collective memory and comprehended by subsequent generations. Methods and materials. Digital Humanities based on the method of oral history allows to solve this problem. The article presents two options of practical implementation of the issue: the online archive of the interview Forced Labor in 1939-1945. Memories and history and related online platform Learning based on interviews. Forced labor in 1939-1945. The archive includes about 600 narrative biographical interviews with victims of Nazi forced labor in 26 countries. The site accompanying the archive is now available in English, German, Russian and Czech. The second project is based on six specially selected interviews from the archive. Broad source base and nationally-oriented concept of forced labor in Nazi Germany, presented on the platform, create the historical context necessary for using this resource primarily in the secondary educational system of the Russian Federation. Analysis and results. The article shows the possibility of using archive-interviews in science and education, and emphasizes that traditional and new methods of historical research can complement each other. The article emphasizes that biographical films created on the basis of interviews can make the memory of forced labor in Nazi Germany, first of all, of “eastern workers” and Soviet prisoners of war more visible in Russian cultural memory. Contribution of authors to writing an article. Characteristics of peculiarity of oral historical sources, online collections of interviews, compensation payments are given by D. Thousendfreund. Analytics of the project “Forced Labor 1939-1945. Memoirs and History “and online platform” Learning based on interviews. Forced labor 1939-1945”, as well as conclusions are prepared by N.P. Timofeev. Introduction, problem historiography and general editing of the article belong to T.V. Evdokimova.

The wars of 1914–1918 and 1939–1945 are without parallel in the expansive stretch of decades of the pan-European conquest and occupation of Africa in creating such profound opportunity to study the very entrenched desire by the European conqueror-states in Africa to perpetuate their control on the continent and its peoples indefinitely. The two principal protagonists in each conflict, Britain and Germany, were the lead powers of these conqueror-states that had formally occupied Africa since 1885. Against this cataclysmic background of history, Africans found themselves conscripted by both sides of the confrontation line in 1914–1918 to at once fight wars for and against their aggressors during which 1 million Africans were killed. Clearly, this was a case of double-jeopardy of conquered and occupied peoples fighting for their enemy-occupiers. In the follow-up 1939–1945 war, when Germany indeed no longer occupied any African land (having been defeated in the 1914–1918 encounter), Britain and allies France and Belgium (all continuing occupying powers in Africa) conscripted Africans, yet again, to fight for these powers in their new confrontation against Germany, and Japan, a country that was in no way an aggressor force in Africa. Hundreds of thousands of Africans were killed in this second war. In neither of these conflicts, as this study demonstrates, do the leaders of these warring countries who occupied (or hitherto occupied) Africa ever view their enforced presence in Africa as precisely the scenario or outcome they wished their own homeland was not subjected to by their enemies. On the contrary, just as it was their position in the aftermath of the 1914–1918 war, Britain, France, Belgium, Spain and Portugal in 1945 each envisaged the continuing occupation of the states and peoples of Africa they had seized by force prior to these conflicts. Winston Churchill, the British prime minster at the time, was adamant: ‘I had not become the king’s first minister in order to preside over the liquidation of the British Empire’. Charles de Gaulle, leader of the anti-German ‘free French forces’, was no less categorical on this score: ‘Self-government [in French-occupied Africa, Asia, the Caribbean, South America, the Pacific and elsewhere in the world] must be rejected – even in the more distant future’.

ABSTRACTIn September 1939, Portugal made a realist strategic choice to preserve the Portuguese Empire maintaining by its neutrality and also remaining an ally of Great Britain. While the Portuguese could rely largely on their colonies for raw materials to sustain the mainland, the country had long depended on British transportation for these goods and the Portuguese military. With the British priority now given to war transportation, Portugal's economy and Empire were particularly vulnerable. The Portuguese dictator Antonio Salazar sought to mitigate this damage by maintaining particularly friendly financial relations with the British government, including increased exports of Portuguese merchandise and services and permission to accumulate credits in Sterling to cover deficits in the balance of payments. This paper gives an improved set of comprehensive statistics for the Anglo-Portuguese and German–Portuguese relationships, reported in Pounds and according to international standards. The reported statistics include the trade in merchandise, services, capital flows, loans and third-party transfers of funds in favour of the British account. When compared with the German statistics, the Anglo-Portuguese figures show the Portuguese government favoured the British in financial relations, an active choice by Salazar to maintain the Portuguese Empire.

This article examines Turkey's wartime diplomacy between the Molotov–Ribbentrop Pact and Hitler's unleashing of Operation Barbarossa. Rather than a survey of Turkish foreign policy as a whole, it takes a critical episode from July 1940 as a case study that – when put in context – reveals how fear of Nazi power and even greater fear of the Soviet Union created in Turkey a complex view of a desired outcome from the Second World War. Juxtaposing archival materials in Turkish, Russian, German, and English, I draw heavily on the hitherto untapped holdings of the Turkish Diplomatic Archives (TDA). Overall, this article demonstrates both the breadth and limits of Nazi Germany's sweeping efforts to orchestrate anti-Soviet propaganda in Turkey; efforts that helped end interwar Soviet-Turkish cooperation. Against previously established notions in historiography that depict Soviet-Turkish relations as naturally hostile and inherently destabilizing, this article documents how the Nazi–Soviet Pact played a key role in their worsening bilateral affairs between 1939 and 1941. The argument, then, is in keeping with newer literature on the Second World War that has begun to compensate for earlier accounts that overlooked neutral powers.

During the Second World War, Germans fought a “two-front war.” A “community of fate” bound together Germans at home and Germans in uniform who carried the war beyond Germany's borders. “Between 1939 and 1945, there was no doubt that civilians were no longer excluded from the fighting; they found themselves right in the middle of it—as actors, as observers, and as those who bore the suffering” (part 1, p. 2) of the war. The Nazi leadership knew this from the start, and only days after the Nazi invasion of Poland, Hermann Göring was exhorting a factory workforce to remember: “We are now all fighters at the front!”(part 1, p. 8). Jörg Echternkamp reminds us of this in his introduction to this massive two-part volume, the latest installment in the history of Germany in the Second World War that has occupied historians of the Military History Research Office (Militärgeschichtliches Forschungsamt, or MGFA) for the last twenty-five years. Echternkamp is the editor, and he deserves enormous credit for pulling together a collection of twenty essays—some of which could easily stand on their own as monographs, all of which are grounded in staggering amounts of original research—that not only summarize what we know about the impact of the war on the homefront in Germany, but also add considerably to that knowledge. Previous volumes in the MGFA series (seven of which are available from Oxford University Press in English translation) have focused primarily on the military planning, the war at the front, and the organization of the war economy at home. In the more than 2,000 pages of this two-part volume, contributors turn their attention to the impact of the war on German society. The results are extremely impressive, and what Echternkamp has brought together will be the starting point for anyone who wants to understand the war at home in Germany.

Recenzowana monografia omawia dzieje Archiwum Państwowego w Szcze­cinie (Staatsarchiv Stettin) w okresie od wybuchu pierwszej wojny świato­wej do zakończenia drugiej wojny światowej. W tych latach dyrektorami archiwum byli kolejno: Hermann Hoogeweg (1913–1923), Otto Grotefend (1923–1930), Erich Randt (1930–1935) i Adolf Diestelkamp (1935–1945). W okresie II wojny światowej, w związku ze służbą wojskową Adolfa Die­stelkampa, funkcje kierownika archiwum pełnili Fritz Morré (1939–1941) i Hermann Gollub (1941–1945). Działalność archiwum została ukazana w monografii przez pryzmat funkcji, jakie pełnią instytucje tego typu (gro­madzenie, przechowywanie, opracowywanie i udostępnianie zasobu), na tle przemian politycznych i społecznych zachodzących w Niemczech. Dużo miejsca autor poświęcił pracownikom merytorycznym archiwum i prowa­dzonym przez nich badaniom naukowym. W tym kontekście ukazał kształ­towanie się nowego typu archiwisty zaangażowanego politycznie, włącza­jącego się w niemieckie badania wschodnie (deutsche Ostforschung). From Hermann Hoogeweg to Hermann Gollub: history of the State Archives in Szczecin (Staatsarchiv Stettin). Review of the monograph by Maciej Szukła, Archiwum Państwowe w Szczecinie w latach 1919–1945. Ludzie i działalność, Archiwum Państwowe w Szczecinie, Naczelna Dyrekcja Archiwów Państwowych w Warszawie , Szczecin–Warsaw 2019, pp. 269 The reviewed monograph gives a description of the history of the State Archives in Szczecin (Staatsarchiv Stettin) from the beginning of the First World War to the end of the Second Word War. Within that period the Archives had following directors: Hermann Hoogeweg (1913–1923), Otto Grotefend (1923–1930), Erich Randt (1930–1935) and Adolf Diestelkamp (1935–1945). During the Second World War Fritz Morré (1939–1941) and then Hermann Gollub (1941–1945) deputized for Adolf Diestelkamp when he did military service. The monograph take a look at how the Archives performed its typical functions (collecting, preserving, processing and providing access to archival materials) in the context of the political and social transformation in Germany. The author puts a lot of emphasis on professional working in the Archives and their academic research to show the emergence of a new type of politically engaged archivist who joined the studies on Eastern Europe (deutsche Ostforschung).

Fathers, families, and the state in France, 1914–1945. By Kristen Stromberg Childers. Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press, 2003. Pp. 261. ISBN 0-8014-4122-6. £23.95.Origins of the French welfare state: the struggle for social reform in France, 1914–1947. By Paul V. Dutton. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002. Pp. 251. ISBN 0-521-81334-4. £49.99.Britain, France, and the financing of the First World War. By Martin Horn. Montreal and Kingston: McGill – Queen's University Press, 2002. Pp. 249. ISBN 0-7735-2293-X. £65.00.The gold standard illusion: France, the Bank of France and the International Gold Standard, 1914–1939. By Kenneth Mouré. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002. Pp. 297. ISBN 0-19-924904-0. £40.00.Workers' participation in post-Liberation France. By Adam Steinhouse. Lanham: Lexington Books, 2001. Pp. 245. ISBN 0-7391-0282-6. $70.00 (hb). ISBN 0-7391-0283-4. $24.95 (pbk).In the traditional historiography of twentieth-century France the period after the Second World War is usually contrasted favourably with that after 1918. After 1945, new men with new ideas, born out of the shock of defeat in 1940 and resistance to Nazi occupation, laid the basis for an economic and social democracy. The welfare state was created, women were given full voting rights, and French security, in both economic and territorial respects, was partially guaranteed by integrating West Germany into a new supranational institutional structure in Western Europe. 1945 was to mark the beginning of the ‘30 glorious years’ of peace and prosperity enjoyed by an expanding population in France. In sharp contrast, the years after 1918 are characterized as a period dominated by France's failed attempts to restore its status as a great power. Policies based on making the German taxpayer finance France's restoration are blamed for contributing to the great depression after 1929 and the rise of Hitler. However, as more research is carried out into the social and economic reconstruction of France after both world wars, it is becoming clear that the basis of what was to become the welfare state after 1945 was laid in the aftermath of the First World War. On the other hand, new reforms adopted in 1945 which did not build on interwar policies, such as those designed to give workers a voice in decision-making at the workplace, proved to be short-lived.

The article analyzes the specificity of the Canadian Prime Minister William Lyon Mackenzie King’s attitude to the Soviet Union during the Second World War. The study analyzes the frequency of the Prime Minister referencing the USSR in his diary from September 1, 1939 to September 2, 1945, as well as his reaction to a number of the most significant events of the Second World War associated with the Soviet Union: the German attack on the USSR, the establishment of diplomatic relations between the USSR and Canada, the battles of Stalingrad and Kursk, the victory over Germany. In the course of work, both general scientific methods (analysis, synthesis, inductive method, comparative method) and special methods (historical-chronological and content analysis) have been used to study the materials of the diary. The use of the historical-chronological method is due to the need to correlate information from the diary with the overall historical picture of the studied period, and the use of content analysis helps to create a more reliable picture of Canadian Prime Minister’s perception of the Soviet participation in World War II. The article has made allowances for the fact that Mackenzie King sought to create his own positive image in his diaries, planning their posthumous publication. But, since the USSR was not a key topic for the Prime Minister (as evidenced by keywords statistics), it can be stated that the leader of the Canadian liberals was quite frank, at least as frank as a person who, in his lifetime, was known as an extremely cautious politician could be. It is clear, that King was well aware of the significance of the events on the Eastern Front. But throughout the war he retained both a negatively neutral attitude towards the USSR (due to its communist nature) and his perception of the Soviet Union as part of Asia and thus a step below the Anglo-Saxon world, which had a higher level of culture and moral principles. The objective reality, i.e. absence of hostilities in Canada, its maneuvering between Great Britain and the United States, and priority of economic and domestic policy for King, explains that a lesser part of his attention was paid to the events in the USSR in comparison with processes associated with England and the United States.

One of the negative phenomena of the modern world are attempts to falsify history and the results of the Second World War, 1939-1945., is an important component of the ideological confrontation in the information space of neoliberal forces of Russian society with patriotic and non-violent, is a tool for achieving geopolitical goals of a number of states. United States, European Union and Ukraine tend to distort the results of the Second World War to remove the history of the Great Patriotic War, the feat of the Soviet people, who saved the world from fascism, and the Soviet Union (Russian Federation), together with Nazi Germany put in the dock of history, accusing all the troubles of the XX century. At the same time attempts to rehabilitate fascism and substitution postwar realities lead to the destruction of the entire system of contemporary international relations and, as a consequence, to the intensification of the struggle for the redivision of the world, including military measures. China is actively implementing the historiography of the statement that World War II began June 7, 1937 and is linked to an open aggression of Japan against China. Given these circumstances, the Military Doctrine of the Russian Federation noted that the trend of displacement of military dangers and military threats in the information space and the inner sphere of the Russian Federation. The main internal risks attributable activity information impact on the population, especially young citizens of the country, which has the aim of undermining the historical, spiritual and patriotic traditions in the field of defense of the Fatherland.

The article is a cultural-historical study and a part of the project Uniting History, which aims to discover the multicultural aspect of performing art in pre-war Liepaja and summarize key facts about the history of the Liepāja Symphony Orchestra. The study also seeks to identify the performing artists whose life was associated with Liepāja and who were repressed between 1941 and 1945, because of aggression by both the Soviet Union and National Socialist Germany. Until now, the cultural life of this period in Liepāja has been studied in a fragmentary way, and materials are scattered in various archives. There are inaccurate and even contradictory testimonies of events of that time. The study marks both the cultural and historical situation of the 1920s and the 1930s in Liepāja and tracks the fates of several artists in the period between 1939 and 1945. On the eve of World War II, Liepāja has an active cultural life, especially in theatre and music. Liepāja City Drama and Opera is in operation staging both dramatic performances, operas, and ballet, employing an orchestra. The symphony orchestra also operated at the Liepāja Philharmonic, where musicians were recruited every season according to the principles of contemporary festival orchestras. Liepāja Folk Conservatory (music school) had also formed an orchestra of students and teachers. Guest concerts were held regularly. A characteristic feature of performing arts in Liepaja was its multicultural character – musicians of different nationalities with experience from different schools of the world were encountered there. World War II not only disrupted the balance in society, but it also had a very concrete and tragic impact on the fates of the people, including the performing artists. Many were killed, many repressed and placed in prisons and camps, and many went to exile to the West. Others were forced to either co-operate with the occupation forces or give up their identity and, consequently, their career as an artist. Nevertheless, some artists risked their lives to save others.

: This article analyzes the thought legacy of Samuel Štefan Osuský (1888–1975), a famous Slovak philosopher and theologian, pertaining to his fight against totalitarianism and war. Having lived during arguably the most difficult period of (Czecho-)Slovak history, which included the two world wars, the emergence of independent Czechoslovakia in 1918, its fateful, forceful split by Nazi Germany in 1939, followed by its reestablishment after WWII in 1945, only to be afflicted again by a new kind of totalitarianism on the left, it is no surprise that Osuský aimed his philosophical and theological criticism especially at the two great human ideologies of the 20th century – Fascism (including its German, racial version, Nazism, which he preferred to call ›Hitlerism‹), and Communism (above all in its historical shape of Stalinist Bolshevism). After exploring the human predicament in ›boundary situations,‹ i.e. situations of ultimate anxiety, despair but also hope and trust, religious motives seemed to gain the upper hand, according to Osuský. As a ›rational theist,‹ he attempted to draw from theology, philosophy and science as complementary sources of wisdom combining them in his struggle to find satisfying insights for larger questions of meaning. Osusky’s ideas in his book War and Religion (1916) and article The Philosophy of Bolshevism, Fascism, and Hitlerism (1937) manifest the much-needed prophetic insight that has the potential to enlighten our own struggle against the creeping forces of totalitarianism, right and left that seek to engulf our societies today.

World War II is considered to be the largest and longest bloody conflict in recent history. It began with the German attack on Poland on September 1, 1939. The war lasted six years and ended with the capitulation of Japan on September 2, 1945. The consequences of the war are still present in many countries today. "German, Italian and Japanese fascists waged a war of conquest with the aim of dividing the world and creating a New Order in which it would have economic, political and military domination, establish a rule of terror and violence and destroy all forms of human freedom, dignity and humanism. Only a few thousand Roma in Germany survived the Holocaust and Nazi concentration camps. Trying to rebuild their lives, after losing so many family members and relatives, and after their property was destroyed or confiscated, they faced enormous difficulties. The health of many was destroyed. Although they have been trying to get compensation for that for years, such requests have been constantly denied Based on established facts, eyewitnesses, witnesses, historical and legal documents, during the Second World War, the crime of genocide against Orthodox Serbs, Jews and Roma of all faiths except Islam was committed. The attempt to exterminate the Roma during the Second World War must not be forgotten. There was no justice for the survivors of the post-Hitler era. It is important to note that the trial in Nuremberg did not mention the genocide of the Roma at all. The Nuremberg trial is basically the punishment of the losers by the winners. This is visible even today because these forces rule the world. Innocent victims, primarily Roma, have not received justice, satisfaction or recognition from the world community. The Roma were further humiliated because they were not given a chance to speak about the few surviving witnesses about the victims and the horrors they survived. The Roma for the Nuremberg International Military Court and the Nuremberg judges simply did not exist, which called into question the legal aspect of the process, which has not been corrected to date. The Roma national community is committed to revising history, to reviewing the work of the Nuremberg tribunal.

This article is devoted to the coverage of a number of major historical and educational projects implemented in recent years by the Russian archivists in the context of the 80th anniversary of the beginning of the Second World War of 1939-1945. Having analyzed the activities of the leading national archives in this area, including their use of modern information technologies and Internet resources, the authors link these projects with discourse of world politics and historiography on the most important factors and causes that resulted in the outbreak of World War II. In connection with heated discussions and disputes on the prerequisites and causes of the Second World War that are escalating among politicians and historians of various countries on the eve of its 80th anniversary, the Russian historians and archivists have done a tremendous job in preparing thematic historical and documentary exhibitions devoted to the most significant (from historical point of view) events that directly affected international relations in the pre-war months. Complex of audiovisual sources, which has been reviewed in this article as a part of historical and documentary exhibitions complex, confirms that it was a complex of factors and events associated with the collapse of the Versailles-Washington system of international relations that led to the outbreak of World War II; but, most of all, the policy of pandering to the aggressive revanchist aspirations of Nazi Germany by the major European powers and concern of the European allies of the USSR for strengthening of its position in international affairs. Introduction of new sources and expansion of documentary base available to general public by means of exhibitions and permanent Internet projects plays a huge role in historical and educational work in general, and in counteraction of falsification of history and of dividing the historical memory of the peoples of the former USSR and the allies of World War II in particular. Finally, it contributes to the consolidation of efforts of the national professional community of historians and archivists and to propagation of dialogue of Russian historians and archivists with their colleagues from near and far abroad.

In the 1920 s, the politically heterogeneous Ukrainian emigration community in inter-war Czechoslovakia, with its back in World War I and losing national liberation competitions, desperately needed both physical and spiritual rest. However, the status of «emigrants» transformed the imagination of the natives about leisure and leisure. The recreational regulator was, on the one hand, the scientific and technical implications of the 'stormy twenties' and, on the other, the urgent need to keep 'one's band', that is, a collective form of rest and leisure. Ukrainian exiles visited various theatrical performances, book exhibitions, music concerts, sections and circles, and enjoyed excursions. Slowly, with some nuances, cinema was also part of the Ukrainian emigration leisure. It should be noted that the Ukrainian emigration in the inter-war Czechoslovakia, because of the 1920 s «quick return concept» and the priority, first of all, of its own political projects, did not leave any jobs or references to film vacations. The Great Depression of the 1930 s and the Losses dismissed the issue of leisure in general and film recreation in particular, making it difficult to physically work to survive. Contemporary scientific intelligence on the impact and role of cinema in the life of the Ukrainian emigration community in the interwar CSR is absent because of the fact that despite the status of Prague as a powerful political, cultural and scientific emigration center, it has not become a leading European cinema center, yielding here Berlin. Only those edited by Doctor of Historical Sciences, Professor IB Matyash, the book «Diplomatic History of Ukraine by Yevgeny Slabchenko (Eugene Deslav)», relevant to the subject of our intelligence, and the article by Roman Roslyak «Ukrainfilm».Based on the above, the purpose of the publication is to argue that, despite some efforts by the Ukrainian emigration community in the interwar CSR, a powerful European film center in Prague, unlike Paris, Vienna, Berlin and New York, never. The Ukrainian emigration community in the Czechoslovak Republic numbered about 20-22 thousand people. In its social composition, it was mainly peasant workers, the layer of her intelligentsia was small. Thus, most Ukrainian immigrants either used the moment to seek education in order to further have a higher social status or to work hard without being able to study. First of all, the Ukrainians, as a national community in exile with a lack of sufficient financial base, even in the «scientifically technical twenties» and «economically unstable thirties», were forced to stand in conservative positions on leisure issues. The first «moving pictures» appeared on the territory of the Czech Republic in 1896 in Prague and Karlovy Vary, thanks to the director and cameraman Jan Krzyzyniecki, who, since the second half of the 1890s, made several short documentary films. And a year later, one of the private American film companies came to the Czech Republic to start filming a black and white silent film in Bohemia. Whereas the first permanent cinema on Czech lands was started by the illusionist Victor Ponrepo (1858–1926) in 1907 in Prague. The Czechoslovakian film industry gained considerable momentum during the interwar period. Since 1921 professional film studios have started. And by 1932, the championship was kept by black and white silent films. The soundtrack of films in the Czechoslovakia began in 1930. In addition, in 1930 Czechoslovak authorities imposed a ban on the import of any German-language films. Prohibition of German-language film production leads to the fact that in 1933, the Czech studio «Barrandov Studio», established by the brothers Vaclav and Milos Havel in 1921, is firmly on its feet, and the number of cinemas is counted in 1938. 1824. However, there were attempts to create a quality Ukrainian emigration film product and, accordingly, Ukrainian (emigration) film studios in the Czechoslovak Republic. These attempts were linked to the names of Boris Khoslovsky and Roman Mishkevich. Khoslovsky since 1926 the head of production of advertising departments of the firm «Vira Film». Since 1928 organizer and owner of the «Mercury Film» Studio, specializing in the production of promotional films. Another Ukrainian film studio, «Terra Film», originated in Brno in the early 1930s on the initiative of Roman Mishkevich. This film studio tried to shoot science and plot (situational-natural) films. Until 1939, Myshkevich's firm remained the largest importer of motion pictures from the Czech Republic to Japan, China, India and Central America. Yet, to develop a powerful Ukrainian film industry in the Czechoslovakia proved impossible. There were several reasons for this. First, political (emigrant status) and economic (lack of sustainable financial flows from the Czechoslovakia) were hampered. Secondly, the Ukrainian film industry did not have the support of both Ukrainian and Czech (private) businesses. Thirdly, the low potential of Ukrainian film enthusiasts and the lack of professional education and experience were evident. Fourth, the Ukrainian Prague film production consisted mainly of documentaries, short films, plot films, reports and chronicles.

The article deals with the literature textbook published in Augsburg, Germany, in 1946 and entitled “Synopsis of the Lithuanian Literature”. It was edited by a Lithuanian writer and teacher Petronėlė Orintaitė-Janutienė, and its sources included a textbook “The Lithuanian Literature: Part 1”, published in the interwar Lithuania (in 1939) and edited by Motiejus Miškinis. However, Orintaitė-Janutienė emphasized having used the publication by Miškinis only “a little”, while writing all the rest “from the memory”. Therefore, the article aims to elucidate what image of the Lithuanian world this memory-based textbook rendition impressed upon the young person studying at a war refugees’ camp, what support it proposed, and what kind of experience it prepared the young one for. The more detailed analysis focuses on the part from the textbook that briefly outlined the concept of folklore. This choice is grounded in the idea nationalism theory that oral culture bears special significance to the formation of the nationality and development of the national consciousness. The analysis also includes some folklore texts from the literary supplement (also edited by Orintaitė-Janutienė) to the Lithuanian weakly Žiburiai (‘Lights’), published in Augsburg in 1945–1949. The author notes that the outline of the Lithuanian folklore in the textbook and the selection of the folklore samples stemmed from the interwar Lithuanian schooling tradition, but they also reflected reaction to the complicated historical situation, in view of which the national community had to rally and act together, discovering new alternatives for survival. The analyzed material allows the author to conclude that the national consciousness of the Lithuanian student at the DP camp was strengthened by presenting certain past experiences inherited from the ancestors, by fostering the idea of historical continuity, by reviving and cherishing the topographic memory, emphasizing the most important existential attitudes, and listing the culture texts testifying to the Lithuanian national distinction.

Canon and oblivion. The memorials of archaeologyThe article takes its point of departure in the sun chariot; the find itself and its find site at Trundholm bog where it was discovered in 1902. The famous sun chariot, now at the National Museum in Copenhagen, is a national treasure included in the Danish “Cultural Canon” and “History Canon”.The find site itself has alternated bet­ween experiencing intense attention and oblivion. A monument was erected in 1925; a new monument was then created in 1962 and later moved in 2002. The event of 1962 was followed by ceremonies, speeches and songs, and anniversary celebrations were held in 2002, during which a copy of the sun chariot was sacrificed.The memorial at Trundholm bog is only one of several memorials at archaeological find sites in Denmark. Which finds have been commemorated and marked by memorials? When did this happen? Who took the initiative? How were they executed? Why are these finds remembered? What picture of the past do we meet in this canon in stone?Find sites and archaeological memorials have been neglected in archaeology and by recent trends in the study of the history of archaeology. Considering the impressive research on monuments and monumentality in archaeology, this is astonishing. However, memorials in general receive attention in an active research field on the use of history and heritage studies, where historians and ethnologists dominate. The main focus here is, however, on war memorials. An important source of inspiration has been provided by a project led by the French historian Pierre Nora who claims that memorial sites are established when the living memory is threatened (a thesis refuted by the many Danish “Reunion” monuments erected even before the day of reunification in 1920).Translated into Danish conditions, studies of the culture of remembrance and memorials have focused on the wars of 1848-50 and 1864, the Reunion in 1920, the Occupation in 1940-45 and, more generally, on conflicts in the borderland bet­ween Denmark and Germany.In relation to the total number of memorials and public meeting places in Denmark, archaeological memorials of archaeology are few in number, around 1 % of the total. However, they prompt crucial questions concerning the use of the past, on canon and oblivion.“Canon” means rule, and canonical texts are the supposed genuine texts in the Bible. The concept of canon became a topic in the 1990s when Harold Bloom, in “The Western Canon”, identified a number of books as being canonical. In Denmark, canon has been a great issue in recent years with the appearance of the “Danish Literary Canon” in 2004, and the “Cultural Canon” and the “History Canon”, both in 2006. The latter includes the Ertebølle culture, the sun chariot and the Jelling stone. The political context for the creation of canon lists is the so-called “cultural conflict” and the debate concerning immigration and “foreigners”.Canon and canonization means a struggle against relativism and oblivion. Canon means that something ought to be remembered while something else is allowed to be forgotten. Canon lists are constructed when works and values are perceived as being threatened by oblivion. Without ephemerality and oblivion there is no need for canon lists. Canon and oblivion are linked.Memorials mean canonization of certain individuals, collectives, events and places, while others are allowed to be forgotten. Consequently, archaeological memorials constitute part of the canonization of a few finds and find sites. According to Pierre Nora’s thesis, memorials are established when the places are in danger of being forgotten.Whether one likes canon lists or not, they are a fact. There has always been a process of prioritisation, leading to some finds being preserved and others discarded, some being exhibited and others ending up in the stores.Canonization is expressed in the classical “Seven Wonders of the World”, the “Seven New Wonders of the World” and the World Heritage list. A find may be declared as treasure trove, as being of “unique national significance” or be honoured by the publication of a monograph or by being given its own museum.In practice, the same few finds occur in different contexts. There seems to be a consensus within the subject of canonization of valuing what is well preserved, unique, made of precious metals, bears images and is monumental. A top-ten canon list of prehistoric finds from Denmark according to this consensus would probably include the following finds: The sun chariot from Trundholm, the girl from Egtved, the Dejbjerg carts, the Gundestrup cauldron, Tollund man, the golden horns from Gallehus, the Mammen or Bjerringhøj grave, the Ladby ship and the Skuldelev ships.Just as the past may be used in many different ways, there are many forms of memorial related to monuments from the past or to archaeological excavations. Memorials were constructed in the 18th and 19th centuries at locations where members of the royal family had conducted archaeology. As with most other memorials from that time, the prince is at the centre, while antiquity and archaeology create a brilliant background, for example at Jægerpris (fig. 2). Memorials celebrating King Frederik VII were created at the Dæmpegård dolmen and at the ruin of Asserbo castle. A memorial celebrating Count Frederik Sehested was erected at Møllegårdsmarken (fig. 3). Later there were also memorials celebrating the architect C.M. Smith at the ruin of Kalø Castle and Svend Dyhre Rasmussen and Axel Steensberg, respectively the finder and the excavator of the medieval village at Borup Ris.Several memorials were erected in the decades around 1900 to commemorate important events or persons in Danish history, for example by Thor Lange. The memorials were often located at sites and monuments that had recently been excavated, for example at Fjenneslev (fig. 4).A large number of memorials commemorate abandoned churches, monasteries, castles or barrows that have now disappeared, for example at the monument (fig. 5) near Bjerringhøj.Memorials were erected in the first half of the 20th century near large prehistoric monuments which also functioned as public meeting places, for example at Glavendrup, Gudbjerglund and Hohøj. Prehistoric monuments, especially dolmens, were also used as models when new memorials were created during the 19th and 20th centuries.Finally, sculptures were produced at the end of the 19th century sculptures where the motif was a famous archaeological find – the golden horns, the girl from Egtved, the sun chariot and the woman from Skrydstrup.In the following, this article will focus on a category of memorials raised to commemorate an archaeological find. In Denmark, 24 archaeological find sites have been marked by a total of 26 monuments (fig. 6). This survey is based on excursions, scanning the literature, googling on the web and contact with colleagues. The monuments are presented chronological, i.e. by date of erection. 1-2) The golden horns from Gallehus: Found in 1639 and 1734; two monu­ments in 1907. 3) The Snoldelev runic stone: Found in c. 1780; monument in 1915. 4) The sun chariot from Trundholm bog: Found in 1902; monument in 1925; renewed in 1962 and moved in 2002. 5) The grave mound from Egtved: Found in 1921; monument in 1930. 6) The Dejbjerg carts. Found in 1881-83; monument in 1933. 7) The Gundestrup cauldron: Found in 1891; wooden stake in 1934; replaced with a monument in 1935. 8) The Bregnebjerg burial ground: Found in 1932; miniature dolmen in 1934. 9) The Brangstrup gold hoard. Found in 1865; monument in 1935.10-11) Maglemose settlements in Mulle­rup bog: Found in 1900-02; two monuments in 1935 and 1936. 12) The Skarpsalling vessel from Oudrup Heath: Found in 1891; monument in 1936. 13) The Juellinge burial ground: Found in 1909; monument in 1937. 14) The Ladby ship: Found in 1935; monument probably in 1937. 15) The Hoby grave: Found in 1920; monument in 1939. 16) The Maltbæk lurs: Found in 1861 and 1863; monument in 1942. 17) Ginnerup settlement: First excavation in 1922; monument in 1945. 18) The golden boats from Nors: Found in 1885; monument in 1945. 19) The Sædinge runic stone: Found in 1854; monument in 1945. 20) The Nydam boat: Found in 1863; monument in 1947. 21) The aurochs from Vig: Found in 1904; monument in 1957. 22) Tollund Man: Found in 1950; wooden stake in 1968; renewed inscription in 2000. 23) The Veksø helmets: Found in 1942; monument in 1992. 24) The Bjæverskov coin hoard. Found in 1999; monument in 1999. 25) The Frydenhøj sword from Hvidovre: Found in 1929; monument in 2001; renewed in 2005. 26) The Bellinge key: Found in 1880; monument in 2003.Two monuments (fig. 7) raised in 1997 at Gallehus, where the golden horns were found, marked a new trend. From then onwards the find itself and its popular finders came into focus. At the same time the classical or old Norse style of the memorials was replaced by simple menhirs or boulders with an inscription and sometimes also an image of the find. One memorial was constructed as a miniature dolmen and a few took the form of a wooden stake.The finds marked by memorials represent a broader spectrum than the top-ten list. They represent all periods from the Stone Age to the Middle Ages over most of Denmark. Memorials were created throughout the 20th century; in greatest numbers in the 1930s and 1940s, but with none between 1968 and 1992.The inscriptions mention what was found and, in most cases, also when it happened. Sometimes the finder is named and, in a few instances, also the person on whose initiative the memorial was erected. The latter was usually a representative part of the political agency of the time. In the 18th and 19th centuries it was the royal family and the aristocracy. In the 20th century it was workers, teachers, doctors, priests, farmers and, in many cases, local historical societies who were responsible, as seen on the islands of Lolland and Falster, where ten memorials were erected between 1936 and 1951 to commemorate historical events, individuals, monuments or finds.The memorial from 2001 at the find site of the Frydenhøj sword in Hvidovre represents an innovation in the tradition of marking history in the landscape. The memorial is a monumental hybrid between signposting and public art (fig. 8). It formed part of a communication project called “History in the Street”, which involved telling the history of a Copenhagen suburb right there where it actually happened.The memorials marking archaeological finds relate to the nation and to nationalism in several ways. The monuments at Gallehus should, therefore, be seen in the context of a struggle concerning both the historical allegiance and future destiny of Schleswig or Southern Jutland. More generally, the national perspective occurs in inscriptions using concepts such as “the people”, “Denmark” and “the Danes”, even if these were irrelevant in prehistory, e.g. when the monument from 1930 at Egtved mentions “A young Danish girl” (fig. 9). This use of the past to legitimise the nation, belongs to the epoch of World War I, World War II and the 1930s. The influence of nationalism was often reflected in the ceremonies when the memorials were unveiled, with speeches, flags and songs.According to Marie Louise Stig Sørensen and Inge Adriansen, prehistoric objects that are applicable as national symbols, should satisfy three criteria. The should: 1) be unusual and remarkable by their technical and artistic quality; 2) have been produced locally, i.e. be Danish; 3) have been used in religious ceremonies or processions. The 26 archaeological finds marked with memorials only partly fit these criteria. The finds also include more ordinary finds: a burial ground, settlements, runic stones, a coin hoard, a sword and a key. Several of the finds were produced abroad: the Gundestrup cauldron, the Brangstrup jewellery and coins and the Hoby silver cups.It is tempting to interpret the Danish cultural canon as a new expression of a national use of the past in the present. Nostalgia, the use of the past and the creation of memorials are often explained as an expression of crisis in society. This seems reasonable for the many memorials from 1915-45 with inscriptions mentioning hope, consolation and darkness. However, why are there no memorials from the economic crisis years of the 1970s and 1980s? It seems as if the past is recalled, when the nation is under threat – in the 1930s and 40s from expansive Germany – and since the 1990s by increased immigration and globalisation.The memorials have in common local loss and local initiative. A treasure was found and a treasure was lost, often to the National Museum in Copenhagen. A treasure was won that contributed to the great narrative of the history of Denmark, but that treasure has also left its original context. The memorials commemorate the finds that have contributed to the narrative of the greatness, age and area of Denmark. The memorials connect the nation and the native place, the capital and the village in a community, where the past is a central concept. The find may also become a symbol of a region or community, for example the sun chariot for Trundholm community and the Gundestrup cauldron for Himmerland.It is almost always people who live near the find site who want to remember what has been found and where. The finds were commemorated by a memorial on average 60 years after their discovery. A longer period elapsed for the golden horns from Gallehus; shortest was at Bjæverskov where the coin hoard was found in March 1999 and a monument was erected in November of the same year.Memorials might seem an old-fashioned way of marking localities in a national topography, but new memorials are created in the same period as many new museums are established.A unique find has no prominent role in archaeological education, research or other work. However, in public opinion treasures and exotic finds are central. Folklore tells of people searching for treasures but always failing. Treasure hunting is restricted by taboos. In the world of archaeological finds there are no taboos. The treasure is found by accident and in spite of various hindrances the find is taken to a museum. The finder is often a worthy person – a child, a labourer or peasant. He or she is an innocent and ordinary person. A national symbol requires a worthy finder. And the find occurs as a miracle. At the find site a romantic relationship is established between the ancestors and their heirs who, by way of a miracle, find fragments of the glorious past of the nation. A paradigmatic example is the finding of the golden horns from Gallehus. Other examples extend from the discovery of the sun chariot in Trundholm bog to the Stone Age settlement at Mullerup bog.The article ends with a catalogue presenting the 24 archaeological find sites that have been marked with monuments in present-day Denmark.Jes WienbergHistorisk arkeologiInstitutionen för Arkeologi och ­Antikens historiaLunds Universitet

In this year of REFO 500 the author investigates the question why the Reformation with its ‘theology of sola Scriptura and solus Christus’ could not prevent the successive identification of church and ‘volk’ in history and why it could not prevent the fatal consequences this identification had for the gospel message of reconciliation, the exemplary existence of the church of Christ and the coming of the kingdom of God. Three examples serve as proof for this statement: the attitude of the Anglican Church in England during the second Anglo-Boer War (now called the South African War)(1899-1902); the Lutheran Church in Germany during the Second World War (1939-1945) and the Reformed Churches in South Africa during the years of apartheid (1948-1994). All three examples reveal an untenable identification of church and ‘volk’, although in varying degrees. How could that happen?

Allgemeines Das ist Militärgeschichte! Probleme - Projekte - Perspektiven. Hrsg. mit Unterstützung des MGFA von Christian Th. Müller und Matthias Rogg Dieter Langewiesche Lohn der Gewalt. Beutepraktiken von der Antike bis zur Neuzeit. Hrsg. von Horst Carl und Hans-Jürgen Bömelburg Birte Kundrus Piraterie von der Antike bis zur Gegenwart. Hrsg. von Volker Grieb und Sabine Todt. Unter Mitarb. von Sünje Prühlen Martin Rink Robert C. Doyle, The Enemy in Our Hands. America's Treatment of Enemy Prisoners of War from the Revolution to the War on Terror Rüdiger Overmans Maritime Wirtschaft in Deutschland. Schifffahrt - Werften - Handel - Seemacht im 19. und 20. Jahrhundert. Hrsg. von Jürgen Elvert, Sigurd Hess und Heinrich Walle Dieter Hartwig Guntram Schulze-Wegener, Das Eiserne Kreuz in der deutschen Geschichte Harald Potempa Michael Peters, Geschichte Frankens. Von der Zeit Napoleons bis zur Gegenwart Helmut R. Hammerich Johannes Leicht, Heinrich Claß 1868-1953. Die politische Biographie eines Alldeutschen Michael Epkenhans Altertum und Mittelalter Anne Curry, Der Hundertjährige Krieg (1337-1453) Martin Clauss Das Elbinger Kriegsbuch (1383-1409). Rechnungen für städtische Aufgebote. Bearb. von Dieter Heckmann unter Mitarb. von Krzysztof Kwiatkowski Hiram Kümper Sascha Möbius, Das Gedächtnis der Reichsstadt. Unruhen und Kriege in der lübeckischen Chronistik und Erinnerungskultur des späten Mittelalters und der frühen Neuzeit Hiram Kümper Frühe Neuzeit Mark Hengerer, Kaiser Ferdinand III. (1608-1657). Eine Biographie Steffen Leins Christian Kunath, Kursachsen im Dreißigjährigen Krieg Marcus von Salisch Robert Winter, Friedrich August Graf von Rutowski. Ein Sohn Augusts des Starken geht seinen Weg Alexander Querengässer Die Schlacht bei Minden. Weltpolitik und Lokalgeschichte. Hrsg. von Martin Steffen Daniel Hohrath 1789-1870 Riccardo Papi, Eugène und Adam - Der Prinz und sein Maler. Der Leuchtenberg-Zyklus und die Napoleonischen Feldzüge 1809 und 1812 Alexander Querengässer Eckart Kleßmann, Die Verlorenen. Die Soldaten in Napoleons Rußlandfeldzug Daniel Furrer, Soldatenleben. Napoleons Russlandfeldzug 1812 Heinz Stübig Hans-Dieter Otto, Für Einigkeit und Recht und Freiheit. Die deutschen Befreiungskriege gegen Napoleon 1806-1815 Heinz Stübig 1871-1918 Des Kaisers Knechte. Erinnerungen an die Rekrutenzeit im k.(u.)k. Heer 1868 bis 1914. Hrsg., bearb. und erl. von Christa Hämmerle Tamara Scheer Kaiser Friedrich III. Tagebücher 1866-1888. Hrsg. und bearb. von Winfried Baumgart Michael Epkenhans Tanja Bührer, Die Kaiserliche Schutztruppe für Deutsch-Ostafrika. Koloniale Sicherheitspolitik und transkulturelle Kriegführung 1885 bis 1918 Thomas Morlang Krisenwahrnehmungen in Deutschland um 1900. Zeitschriften als Foren der Umbruchszeit im wilhelminischen Reich = Perceptions de la crise en Allemagne au début du XXe siècle. Les périodiques et la mutation de la société allemande à l'époque wilhelmienne. Hrsg. von/ed. par Michel Grunewald und/et Uwe Puschner Bruno Thoß Peter Winzen, Im Schatten Wilhelms II. Bülows und Eulenburgs Poker um die Macht im Kaiserreich Michael Epkenhans Alexander Will, Kein Griff nach der Weltmacht. Geheime Dienste und Propaganda im deutsch-österreichisch-türkischen Bündnis 1914-1918 Rolf Steininger Maria Hermes, Krankheit: Krieg. Psychiatrische Deutungen des Ersten Weltkrieges Thomas Beddies Ross J. Wilson, Landscapes of the Western Front. Materiality during the Great War Bernd Jürgen Wendt Jonathan Boff, Winning and Losing on the Western Front. The British Third Army and the Defeat of Germany in 1918 Christian Stachelbeck Glenn E. Torrey, The Romanian Battlefront in World War I Gundula Gahlen Uwe Schulte-Varendorff, Krieg in Kamerun. Die deutsche Kolonie im Ersten Weltkrieg Thomas Morlang 1919-1945 »Und sie werden nicht mehr frei sein ihr ganzes Leben«. Funktion und Stellenwert der NSDAP, ihrer Gliederungen und angeschlossenen Verbände im »Dritten Reich«. Hrsg. von Stephanie Becker und Christoph Studt Armin Nolzen Robert Gerwarth, Reinhard Heydrich. Biographie Martin Moll Christian Adam, Lesen unter Hitler. Autoren, Bestseller, Leser im Dritten Reich Gabriele Bosch Alexander Vatlin, »Was für ein Teufelspack«. Die Deutsche Operation des NKWD in Moskau und im Moskauer Gebiet 1936 bis 1941 Helmut Müller-Enbergs Rolf-Dieter Müller, Hitlers Wehrmacht 1935 bis 1945 Armin Nolzen Felix Römer, Kameraden. Die Wehrmacht von innen Martin Moll Johann Christoph Allmayer-Beck, »Herr Oberleitnant, det lohnt doch nicht!« Kriegserinnerungen an die Jahre 1938 bis 1945 Othmar Hackl Stuart D. Goldman, Nomonhan, 1939. The Red Army's Victory that shaped World War II Gerhard Krebs Francis M. Carroll, Athenia torpedoed. The U-boat attack that ignited the Battle of the Atlantic Axel Niestlé Robin Higham, Unflinching zeal. The air battles over France and Britain, May-October 1940 Michael Peters Anna Reid, Blokada. Die Belagerung von Leningrad 1941-1944 Birgit Beck-Heppner Jack Radey and Charles Sharp, The Defense of Moscow. The Northern Flank Detlef Vogel Jochen Hellbeck, Die Stalingrad-Protokolle. Sowjetische Augenzeugen berichten aus der Schlacht Christian Streit Robert M. Citino, The Wehrmacht retreats. Fighting a lost war, 1943 Martin Moll Carlo Gentile, Wehrmacht und Waffen-SS im Partisanenkrieg: Italien 1943-1945 Kerstin von Lingen Tim Saunders, Commandos & Rangers. D-Day Operations Detlef Vogel Frederik Müllers, Elite des »Führers«? Mentalitäten im subalternen Führungspersonal von Waffen-SS und Fallschirmjägertruppe 1944/45 Sebastian Groß, Gefangen im Krieg. Frontsoldaten der Wehrmacht und ihre Weltsicht John Zimmermann Tobias Seidl, Führerpersönlichkeiten. Deutungen und Interpretationen deutscher Wehrmachtgeneräle in britischer Kriegsgefangenschaft Alaric Searle Nach 1945 Wolfgang Benz, Deutschland unter alliierter Besatzung 1945-1949. Michael F. Scholz, Die DDR 1949-1990 Denis Strohmeier Bastiaan Robert von Benda-Beckmann, A German Catastrophe? German historians and the Allied bombings, 1945-2010 Horst Boog Hans Günter Hockerts, Der deutsche Sozialstaat. Entfaltung und Gefährdung seit 1945 Ursula Hüllbüsch Korea - ein vergessener Krieg? Der militärische Konflikt auf der koreanischen Halbinsel 1950-1953 im internationalen Kontext. Hrsg. von Bernd Bonwetsch und Matthias Uhl Gerhard Krebs Andreas Eichmüller, Keine Generalamnestie. Die strafrechtliche Verfolgung von NS-Verbrechen in der frühen Bundesrepublik Clemens Vollnhals Horst-Eberhard Friedrichs, Bremerhaven und die Amerikaner. Stationierung der U.S. Army 1945-1993 - eine Bilddokumentation Heiner Bröckermann Russlandheimkehrer. Die sowjetische Kriegsgefangenschaft im Gedächtnis der Deutschen. Hrsg. von Elke Scherstjanoi Georg Wurzer Klaus Naumann, Generale in der Demokratie. Generationsgeschichtliche Studien zur Bundeswehrelite Rudolf J. Schlaffer John Zimmermann, Ulrich de Maizière. General der Bonner Republik 1912 bis 2006 Klaus Naumann Nils Aschenbeck, Agent wider Willen. Frank Lynder, Axel Springer und die Eichmann-Akten Rolf Steininger »Entrüstet Euch!«. Nuklearkrise, NATO-Doppelbeschluss und Friedensbewegung. Hrsg. von Christoph Becker-Schaum [u.a.] Winfried Heinemann Volker Koop, Besetzt. Sowjetische Besatzungspolitik in Deutschland Silke Satjukow, Besatzer. »Die Russen« in Deutschland 1945-1994 Heiner Bröckermann Marco Metzler, Nationale Volksarmee. Militärpolitik und politisches Militär in sozialistischer Verteidigungskoalition 1955/56 bis 1989/90 Klaus Storkmann Rüdiger Wenzke, Ab nach Schwedt! Die Geschichte des DDR-Militärstrafvollzugs Silke Satjukow Militärs der DDR im Auslandsstudium. Erlebnisberichte, Fakten und Dokumente. Hrsg. von Bernd Biedermann und Hans-Georg Löffler Rüdiger Wenzke Marianna Dudley, An Environmental History of the UK Defence Estate, 1945 to the Present Michael Peters

During World War II, the Soviet Union’s food supply was in a state of crisis. Hitler’s army had occupied the agricultural heartlands of Ukraine and Southern Russia in 1941 and, as a result, agricultural production for the entire nation had plummeted. Soldiers in Red Army, who easily ate the best rations in the country, subsisted on a daily allowance of just under a kilogram of bread, supplemented with meat, tea, sugar and butter when and if these items were available. The hunger of the Red Army and its effect on the morale and strength of Europe’s eastern warfront were causes for concern for the Soviet government and its European and American allies. The one country with a food surplus decided to do something to help, and in 1942 the United States agreed to send thousands of pounds of meat, cheese and butter overseas to help feed the Red Army. After receiving several shipments of the all-American spiced canned meat SPAM, the Red Army’s quartermaster put in a request for a more familiar canned pork product, Russian tushonka. Pound for pound, America sent more pigs overseas than soldiers during World War II, in part because pork was in oversupply in the America of the early 1940s. Shipping meat to hungry soldiers and civilians in war torn countries was a practical way to build business for the U.S. meat industry, which had been in decline throughout the 1930s. As per a Soviet-supplied recipe, the first cans of Lend-Lease tushonka were made in the heart of the American Midwest, at meatpacking plants in Iowa and Ohio (Stettinus 6-7). Government contracts in the meat packing industry helped fuel economic recovery, and meatpackers were in a position to take special request orders like the one for tushonka that came through the lines. Unlike SPAM, which was something of a novelty item during the war, tushonka was a food with a past. The original recipe was based on a recipe for preserved meat that had been a traditional product of the Ural Mountains, preserved in jars with salt and fat rather than by pressure and heat. Thus tushonka was requested—and was mass-produced—not simply as a convenience but also as a traditional and familiar food—a taste of home cooking that soldiers could carry with them into the field. Nikita Khrushchev later claimed that the arrival of tushonka was instrumental in helping the Red Army push back against the Nazi invasion (178). Unlike SPAM and other wartime rations, tushonka did not fade away after the war. Instead, it was distributed to the Soviet civilian population, appearing in charity donations and on the shelves of state shops. Often it was the only meat product available on a regular basis. Salty, fatty, and slightly grey-toned, tushonka was an unlikely hero of the postwar-era, but during this period tushonka rose from obscurity to become an emblem of socialist modernity. Because it was shelf stable and could be made from a variety of different cuts of meat, it proved an ideal product for the socialist production lines where supplies and the pace of production were infinitely variable. Unusual in a socialist system of supply, this product shaped production and distribution lines, and even influenced the layout of meatpacking factories and the genetic stocks of the animals that were to be eaten. Tushonka’s initial ubiquity in the postwar Soviet Union had little to do with the USSR’s own hog industry. Pig populations as well as their processing facilities had been decimated in the war, and pigs that did survive the Axis invasion had been evacuated East with human populations. Instead, the early presence of tushonka in the pig-scarce postwar Soviet Union had everything to do with Harry Truman’s unexpected September 1945 decision to end all “economically useful” Lend-Lease shipments to the Soviet Union (Martel). By the end of September, canned meat was practically the only product still being shipped as part of Lend-Lease (NARA RG 59). Although the United Nations was supposed to distribute these supplies to needy civilians free of cost, travelers to the Soviet Union in 1946 spotted cans of American tushonka for sale in state shops (Skeoch 231). After American tushonka “donations” disappeared from store shelves, the Soviet Union’s meat syndicates decided to continue producing the product. Between its first appearance during the war in 1943, and the 1957 announcement by Nikita Khrushchev that Soviet policy would restructure all state animal farms to support the mass production of one or several processed meat products, tushonka helped to drive the evolution of the Soviet Union’s meat packing industry. Its popularity with both planners and the public gave it the power to reach into food commodity chains. It is this backward reach and the longer-term impacts of these policies that make tushonka an unusual byproduct of the Cold War era. State planners loved tushonka: it was cheap to make, the logistics of preparing it were not complicated, it was easy to transport, and most importantly, it served as tangible evidence that the state was accomplishing a long-standing goal to get more meat to its citizenry and improving the diet of the average Soviet worker. Tushonka became a highly visible product in the Soviet Union’s much vaunted push to establish a modern food regime intended to rival that of the United States. Because it was shelf-stable, wartime tushonka had served as a practical food for soldiers, but after the war tushonka became an ideal food for workers who had neither the time nor the space to prepare a home-cooked meal with fresh meat. The Soviet state started to produce its own tushonka because it was such an excellent fit for the needs and abilities of the Soviet state—consumer demand was rarely considered by planners in this era. Not only did tushonka fit the look and taste of a modern processed meat product (that is, it was standard in texture and flavor from can to can, and was an obviously industrially processed product), it was also an excellent way to make the most of the predominant kind of meat the Soviet Union had the in the 1950s: small scraps low-grade pork and beef, trimmings leftover from butchering practices that focused on harvesting as much animal fat, rather than muscle, from the carcass in question. Just like tushonka, pork sausages and frozen pelmeny, a meat-filled pasta dumpling, also became winning postwar foods thanks to a happy synergy of increased animal production, better butchering and new food processing machines. As postwar pigs recovered their populations, the Soviet processed meat industry followed suit. One official source listed twenty-six different kinds of meat products being issued in 1964, although not all of these were pork (Danilov). An instructional manual distributed by the meat and milk syndicate demonstrated how meat shops should wrap and display sausages, and listed 24 different kinds of sausages that all needed a special style of tying up. Because of packaging shortages, the string that bound the sausage was wrapped in a different way for every type of sausage, and shop assistants were expected to be able to identify sausages based on the pattern of their binding. Pelmeny were produced at every meat factory that processed pork. These were “made from start to finish in a special, automated machine, human hands do not touch them. Which makes them a higher quality and better (prevoskhodnogo) product” (Book of Healthy and Delicious Food). These were foods that became possible to produce economically because of a co-occurring increase in pigs, the new standardized practice of equipping meatpacking plants with large-capacity grinders, and freezers or coolers and the enforcement of a system of grading meat. As the state began to rebuild Soviet agriculture from its near-collapse during the war, the Soviet Union looked to the United States for inspiration. Surprisingly, Soviet planners found some of the United States’ more outdated techniques to be quite valuable for new Soviet hog operations. The most striking of these was the adoption of competing phenotypes in the Soviet hog industry. Most major swine varieties had been developed and described in the 19th century in Germany and Great Britain. Breeds had a tendency to split into two phenotypically distinct groups, and in early 20th Century American pig farms, there was strong disagreement as to which style of pig was better suited to industrial conditions of production. Some pigs were “hot-blooded” (in other words, fast maturing and prolific reproducers) while others were a slower “big type” pig (a self-explanatory descriptor). Breeds rarely excelled at both traits and it was a matter of opinion whether speed or size was the most desirable trait to augment. The over-emphasis of either set of qualities damaged survival rates. At their largest, big type pigs resembled small hippopotamuses, and sows were so corpulent they unwittingly crushed their tiny piglets. But the sleeker hot-blooded pigs had a similarly lethal relationship with their young. Sows often produced litters of upwards of a dozen piglets and the stress of tending such a large brood led overwhelmed sows to devour their own offspring (Long). American pig breeders had been forced to navigate between these two undesirable extremes, but by the 1930s, big type pigs were fading in popularity mainly because butter and newly developed plant oils were replacing lard as the cooking fat of preference in American kitchens. The remarkable propensity of the big type to pack on pounds of extra fat was more of a liability than a benefit in this period, as the price that lard and salt pork plummeted in this decade. By the time U.S. meat packers were shipping cans of tushonka to their Soviet allies across the seas, US hog operations had already developed a strong preference for hot-blooded breeds and research had shifted to building and maintaining lean muscle on these swiftly maturing animals. When Soviet industrial planners hoping to learn how to make more tushonka entered the scene however, their interpretation of american efficiency was hardly predictable: scientifically nourished big type pigs may have been advantageous to the United States at midcentury, but the Soviet Union’s farms and hungry citizens had a very different list of needs and wants. At midcentury, Soviet pigs were still handicapped by old-fashioned variables such as cold weather, long winters, poor farm organisation and impoverished feed regimens. The look of the average Soviet hog operation was hardly industrial. In 1955 the typical Soviet pig was petite, shaggy, and slow to reproduce. In the absence of robust dairy or vegetable oil industries, Soviet pigs had always been valued for their fat rather than their meat, and tushonka had been a byproduct of an industry focused mainly on supplying the country with fat and lard. Until the mid 1950s, the most valuable pig on many Soviet state and collective farms was the nondescript but very rotund “lard and bacon” pig, an inefficient eater that could take upwards of two years to reach full maturity. In searching for a way to serve up more tushonka, Soviet planners became aware that their entire industry needed to be revamped. When the Soviet Union looked to the United States, planners were inspired by the earlier competition between hot-blooded and big type pigs, which Soviet planners thought, ambitiously, they could combine into one splendid pig. The Soviet Union imported new pigs from Poland, Lithuania, East Germany and Denmark, trying valiantly to create hybrid pigs that would exhibit both hot blood and big type. Soviet planners were especially interested in inspiring the Poland-China, an especially rotund specimen, to speed up its life cycle during them mid 1950s. Hybrdizing and cross breeding a Soviet super-pig, no matter how closely laid out on paper, was probably always a socialist pipe dream. However, when the Soviets decided to try to outbreed American hog breeders, they created an infrastructure for pigs and pig breeding that had a dramatic positive impact of hog populations across the country, and the 1950s were marked by a large increase in the number of pigs in the Soviet union, as well as dramatic increases in the numbers of purebred and scientific hybrids the country developed, all in the name of tushonka. It was not just the genetic stock that received a makeover in the postwar drive to can more tushonka; a revolution in the barnyard also took place and in less than 10 years, pigs were living in new housing stock and eating new feed sources. The most obvious postwar change was in farm layout and the use of building space. In the early 1950s, many collective farms had been consolidated. In 1940 there were a quarter of a million kolkhozii, by 1951 fewer than half that many remained (NARA RG166). Farm consolidation movements most often combined two, three or four collective farms into one economic unit, thus scaling up the average size and productivity of each collective farm and simplifying their administration. While there were originally ambitious plans to re-center farms around new “agro-city” bases with new, modern farm buildings, these projects were ultimately abandoned. Instead, existing buildings were repurposed and the several clusters of farm buildings that had once been the heart of separate villages acquired different uses. For animals this meant new barns and new daily routines. Barns were redesigned and compartmentalized around ideas of gender and age segregation—weaned baby pigs in one area, farrowing sows in another—as well as maximising growth and health. Pigs spent less outside time and more time at the trough. Pigs that were wanted for different purposes (breeding, meat and lard) were kept in different areas, isolated from each other to minimize the spread of disease as well as improve the efficiency of production. Much like postwar housing for humans, the new and improved pig barn was a crowded and often chaotic place where the electricity, heat and water functioned only sporadically. New barns were supposed to be mechanised. In some places, mechanisation had helped speed things along, but as one American official viewing a new mechanised pig farm in 1955 noted, “it did not appear to be a highly efficient organisation. The mechanised or automated operations, such as the preparation of hog feed, were eclipsed by the amount of hand labor which both preceded and followed the mechanised portion” (NARA RG166 1961). The American official estimated that by mechanizing, Soviet farms had actually increased the amount of human labor needed for farming operations. The other major environmental change took place away from the barnyard, in new crops the Soviet Union began to grow for fodder. The heart and soul of this project was establishing field corn as a major new fodder crop. Originally intended as a feed for cows that would replace hay, corn quickly became the feed of choice for raising pigs. After a visit by a United States delegation to Iowa and other U.S. farms over the summer of 1955, corn became the centerpiece of Khrushchev’s efforts to raise meat and milk productivity. These efforts were what earned Khrushchev his nickname of kukuruznik, or “corn fanatic.” Since so little of the Soviet Union looks or feels much like the plains and hills of Iowa, adopting corn might seem quixotic, but raising corn was a potentially practical move for a cold country. Unlike the other major fodder crops of turnips and potatoes, corn could be harvested early, while still green but already possessing a high level of protein. Corn provided a “gap month” of green feed during July and August, when grazing animals had eaten the first spring green growth but these same plants had not recovered their biomass. What corn remained in the fields in late summer was harvested and made into silage, and corn made the best silage that had been historically available in the Soviet Union. The high protein content of even silage made from green mass and unripe corn ears prevented them from losing weight in the winter. Thus the desire to put more meat on Soviet tables—a desire first prompted by American food donations of surplus pork from Iowa farmers adapting to agro-industrial reordering in their own country—pushed back into the commodity supply network of the Soviet Union. World War II rations that were well adapted to the uncertainty and poor infrastructure not just of war but also of peacetime were a source of inspiration for Soviet planners striving to improve the diets of citizens. To do this, they purchased and bred more and better animals, inventing breeds and paying attention, for the first time, to the efficiency and speed with which these animals were ready to become meat. Reinventing Soviet pigs pushed even back farther, and inspired agricultural economists and state planners to embrace new farm organizational structures. Pigs meant for the tushonka can spent more time inside eating, and led their lives in a rigid compartmentalization that mimicked emerging trends in human urban society. Beyond the barnyard, a new concern with feed-to weight conversions led agriculturalists to seek new crops; crops like corn that were costly to grow but were a perfect food for a pig destined for a tushonka tin. Thus in Soviet industrialization, pigs evolved. No longer simply recyclers of human waste, socialist pigs were consumers in their own right, their newly crafted genetic compositions demanded ever more technical feed sources in order to maximize their own productivity. Food is transformative, and in this case study the prosaic substance of canned meat proved to be unusually transformative for the history of the Soviet Union. In its early history it kept soldiers alive long enough to win an important war, later the requirements for its manufacture re-prioritized muscle tissue over fat tissue in the disassembly of carcasses. This transformative influence reached backwards into the supply lines and farms of the Soviet Union, revolutionizing the scale and goals of farming and meat packing for the Soviet food industry, as well as the relationship between the pig and the consumer. References Bentley, Amy. Eating for Victory: Food Rationing and the Politics of Domesticity. Where: University of Illinois Press, 1998. 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