New Books In Genocide Studies

People study atrocities and mass violence for a variety of reasons. When asked, many offer thoughtful intellectual or political explanations for their choice. But in truth, the field is a practical response to a cry of the heart. How, people ask, how can people do this to one another? How can men and women do such terrible things? How can they do them to people they know? Max Bergholz asks these questions systematically in his terrific new book Violence as a Generative Force: Identity, Nationalism and Memory in a Balkan Community (Cornell University Press, 2016). The book is a careful, detailed description of the violence that exploded in a rural community in Croatia in 1941. Bergholz researched the book for a decade, poring through records from local archives and libraries all across the region. This allows Bergholz, Associate Professor of History at Concordia University in Montreal, to answer questions about the history of ethnicity in the region, about the intersection of local agency and national leadersh

This podcast marks the beginning of a new occasional series of podcasts about the genocide in Rwanda. In the next few months we’ll hear from Timothy Longman, Sara Brown, Erin Jessee and others. We start with Michael Barnett. Barnett has recently published a new edition of his seminal text Eyewitness to a Genocide: The United Nations and Rwanda (Cornell University Press, 2016). Barnett was a member of the US mission to the UN (on leave from his academic career for a year) and thus a first hand observer of the UN during the genocide. His book is a careful survey of the forces that led to UN inaction in the spring and early summer of 1994. It is simultaneously a history, an analysis of institutional culture, and a disquisition on moral responsibility. Its position in the literature on Rwanda was well-earned from the moment it was first published. In this new edition, Barnett adds an afterward exploring how what we’ve learned since 2002 has reshaped what we know about and how we evaluate the actions

Every time I teach Comparative Genocide, I distribute a letter to the students preparing them for the particular challenges of taking a course about mass violence. In the letter, I point out a simple fact. People, including academics, say the words “never again” repeatedly. Yet, the suffering goes on in Serbia, South Sudan, the DRC, Burma, and so on. So what does it mean to study the Holocaust in a time when people in a variety of countries are suffering mass violence? Leonard Grob and John Roth are leaders in a years long effort to consider what scholars who study the Holocaust can say about the world in which they live. Their new book, Losing Trust in the World: Holocaust Scholars Confront Torture (University of Washington Press, 2016), looks specifically at torture. The essays come from a working group of historians, philosophers, theologians and social scientists, all experts in their field and all passionate about applying their research to the present. The result is a compelling body of essa

Michael Bryant’s book is both less and more ambitious than its title. He’s writing less of a history of war crimes than he is a history of the idea and concept of war crimes. He’s most interested in what people have considered a breach of the norms of warfare and how this concept has changed over time. The triumph of A World History of War Crimes: From Antiquity to the Present (Bloomsbury, 2016) is it’s reminder that, while expectations about how soldiers (and others) would act during warfare are not new at all, the notion of war crimes is actually quite recent. Bryant argues that ideas about the proper conduct of war go back to the ancient Near East. But these ideas were rarely based on the dignity of human person. Instead they derived from religion or from the shape of the political institutions in society. It was only in the 18th and 19th century, in the aftermath of the Enlightenment, that norms about conduct during warfare began to be based on the idea that mistreating civilians o

Rwanda’s homegrown gacaca law has been widely hailed as a successful indigenous solution to the unprecedented problem of the country’s 1994 genocide. In his book Inside Rwanda’s Gacaca Courts: Seeking Justice After Genocide (University of Wisconsin Press, 2016), Bert Ingelaere complicates this received wisdom by focusing on the way the post-genocide gacaca trials unfolded, rather than on their lofty goals, as framed by the public relations arm of the post-genocide Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF) government and other interested parties, both internal and external to Rwanda. The Kinyarwandan word gacaca, derived from the word umucaca, originally referred to a plant that was so soft to sit on that people preferred to gather on it during precolonial times to adjudicate disputes and crimes, but most importantly, to restore social order and harmony. During the colonial period, the jurisdiction and prevalence of gacaca was greatly restricted. Its re-emergence as a viable means of transitional justice

James Q. Whitman, Ford Foundation Professor of Comparative and Foreign Law at Yale Law School, began researching the book that became Hitler’s American Model: The United States and the Making of Nazi Race Law (Princeton University Press, 2017) by wondering whether Jim Crow laws in the U.S. had any impact on the development of the Nuremberg Laws. Some scholars have denied any influence. Professor Whitman came to a very different conclusion, and what he learned deserves to be much more widely appreciated than it is. For the United States was the global pioneer of explicitly racist law–and not just, by any means, in the Jim Crow South. Strikingly, American law was most helpful to the most radical Nazi jurists. In the early years of the Third Reich, 1933 to 1936, conservative nationalist lawyers in Germany debated with Nazi radicals about how to create a body of anti-Semitic law, but one consonant with German legal traditions, which emphasized strict adherence to carefully-articulated concepts. The ra

In my time doing this podcast, I’ve covered a number of books about transitional justice. All have been insightful and interesting. But few of them focused carefully on the trials themselves. Anuradha Chakravarty seeks to remedy this. Her book Investing in Authoritarian Rule: Punishment and Patronage in Rwanda’s Gacaca Courts for Genocide Crimes (Cambridge University Press, 2016) looks carefully at the processes and people involved in Rwanda’s Gacaca courts. She looks at the recruitment and training of judges. She looks at the incentives offered for denouncing others as genocidaires. And she examines the ways in which the incentives and context led many defendants to confess. In doing so, Chakravarty significantly advances our understanding of the workings of transitional justice in Rwanda. But she also uses Rwanda as a lens to try and understand the challenges faced by authoritarian leaders. She argues that the RPF engaged in a kind of clientalistic bargaining with Hutus. By offering target

Trying to figure out what Hitler “really” thought about anything is difficult because he was–among many other things–a clever, opportunistic politician and a very prolix one at that. Over the course of his 20+ career he gave thousands of speeches, wrote two long books “explaining” (if that’s the right word) his beliefs, and offered endless monologues to his acolytes on every imaginable topic. He was always adjusting his message to his audience, the result–taken together–being a mass of contradictions. Hitler was, well, a professional dissembler. Hitler’s inconstancy is never more evident than in his talk about religion. Depending on which Hitler you pay attention to, you can find him sounding like a Christian or a Pagan, a Believer or an Atheist, a supporter of established religion and someone who wanted to obliterate it. What he said on religious topics always depended on whom he was talking to and, more generally, when he was talking. As Richard We

In her most recent book, Holocaust: An American Understanding (Rutgers University Press), Deborah Lipstadt reviews and analyzes the emergence of Holocaust scholarship in the academy, and Holocaust consciousness in the American public, in the second half of the twentieth century. Professor Lipstadt, Dorot Professor of Modern Jewish History and Holocaust Studies at Emory University, demonstrates that, even as the magnitude and the horror of the Holocaust became known in the United States, it became a decisive influence on American Jewish identity, and on American moral and political consciousness, during a turbulent period. Professor Lipstadt talks about the evolving understanding of the Holocaust, as well as the phenomenon of Holocaust denial, in this wide-ranging discussion. David Gottlieb is a PhD candidate in the History of Judaism at the University of Chicago Divinity School. His research interests center on the influence of midrash in the formation of Jewish cultural memory. He can be reached at davidg1@

The intersection of colonialism and mass atrocities is one of the most exciting insights of the past years of genocide studies. But most people don’t really think of the Soviet Union and the American west as colonial spaces. But while there are limitations to this, both fit well into a kind of geography of colonialism. This is why Edward Westermann‘s new book Hitler’s Ostkrieg and the Indian Wars: Comparing Genocide and Conquest (University of Oklahoma Press, 2016)is so interesting. Westermann teaches at Texas A & M University at San Antonio. Prior to this work, he wrote a well-regarded volume on the German police battalions on the Eastern Front in the Second World War. Before joining the university world, he was an officer in the US military, and he brings his training and experience to a study of the strategy and tactics of the armies which fought in each space. In doing so, he sheds new light on how each army behaved. He’s particularly good at understanding how tactics and milit

In Stolen Words: The Nazi Plunder of Jewish Books (The Jewish Publication Society, 2016), Rabbi Mark Glickman, of Temple Bnai Tikvah in Calgary, examines the massive theft of Jewish books by the Nazis. He offers a compelling account of the history of Jewish books in Europe, the place of Jewish books and culture in Nazi ideology and Jewish efforts to save these books during the Holocaust and rescue and redistribute them after the war. This book is a highly readable contribution, which should bring this little known history to a wide audience. Max Kaiser is a PhD candidate at the University of Melbourne. He can be reached at kaiser@student.unimelb.edu.au.Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

For non-specialists, the Holocaust in Hungary is a history both familiar and murky. Many Americans have read memoirs like Elie Wiesel’s Night and Judith Magyar Isaacson’s Seeds of Sarah in high school or college and have some sense of their experience. But the actual history of Hungary and the Holocaust remains opaque. Ferenc Laczo aims to change this. Laczo, an associate professor of history at Maastricht University, has produced a fascinating examination of a series of dialogues unfamiliar to most historians. His new book Hungarian Jews in the Age of Genocide: An Intellectual History (Brill, 2016) examines the Jewish community in Hungary and how their ideas of themselves and their place in Hungary changed during the war. He begins in the 1930s, with Jewish thinkers wrestling with traditional questions of identity and inclusion in the context of authoritarian government in Hungary and the rise of the Nazis in Germany. He then moves to a close reading of memories of the Holocaust in Hungary, takin

The unprecedented crime of the 1994 Rwandan genocide demanded an unconventional legal response. After failed attempts by the international legal system to efficiently handle legal cases stemming from the genocide, Rwandans decided to take matters into their own hands and reinstate Gacaca law, which had been the sole legal system in Rwanda prior to colonization. Gacaca, a Kinyarwanda word referring to a type of grass or traditional lawn, is also a metonym for place and mediation. Gacaca law allows perpetrators and victims to resolve their differences before the community, and a panel of eminent persons, inyangamugayo. Gacaca seeks not simply to punish crime but to repair the social fabric rent by crime. In his book Practical Challenges in Customary Law Translation: The Case Of Rwanda’s Gacaca Law (Organization for Social Science Research in Eastern and Southern Africa, 2015), Telesphore Ngarambe uses a fusion of cultural and translational studies, with emphasis placed on cultural contextualization, to m

Part detective story, part travelogue, Noah Lederman decided to write A World Erased: A Grandson’s Search for his Family’s Holocaust Secrets (Rowman and Littlefield, 2017) to find answers to the questions he had since childhood about his grandparents experiences during the Holocaust. Through conversations with family members, visiting his ancestral town, and combing available documents, this memoir shares both the stories uncovered and the ways in which survivors and their descendants grapple with and overcome tragedy. Find him on Twitter @SomewhereOrBust.  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

What difference can a trial make, really? In Guatemala: The Question of Genocide (Taylor and Frances, 2016), Elizabeth Obglesby and Diane Nelson start from this question to examine much more broadly the memory and politics of genocide in Guatemala. To do so, they invited many of the scholars familiar with the conflict in Guatemala to reflect on the role genocide has played in that country. Many authors are Guatemalan, others have worked in the country for years or decades. The result is a wide-ranging, perceptive group of essays published as a special issue of the Journal of Genocide Research. Some deal specifically with the trial itself and its significance within and outside of Guatemala. Others investigate the experience of witnesses at the trial, especially survivors of sexual assault, and ask what these witnesses hoped to achieve. Others broaden their lens to investigate the arguments over how to characterize the violence in Guatemala and the ways in which this argument has shaped responses to the confli

During the mid- to late 1930s, a small but socially prominent group of right-wing Britons took a public stance in support of the Nazi regime in Germany. While many of them curtailed their activities upon Britain’s declaration of war in 1939, as Richard Griffiths reveals in his book What Did You Do During the War? The Last Throes of the British Pro-Nazi Right, 1940-45 (Routledge, 2016) some of them continued to support their nation’s declared enemy in a variety of ways. Refuting ex post facto justifications of their actions, Griffiths punctures the myth of wartime national unity by demonstrating how Oswald Mosley and others sought to erode Britons’ support for the war effort in the early months of the conflict by joining pacifist organizations and criticizing openly the motivations behind Britain’s participation in the conflict. Though many of these prominent pro-Nazis were locked up by the authorities in May 1940, several far-right advocates for Germany among the upper class were spare

Benjamin Martin’s The Nazi-Fascist New Order for European Culture (Harvard University Press, 2016) examines the attempt by Nazi Germany and Fascist Italy to forge a European cultural empire out of their military conquests during World War II. Martin shows that the idea of Europe as a discrete political and cultural entity did not come from the postwar period (much less the European Union of the 1990s), but owes much to the cultural discourses of the 1930s. Germany in particular pushed for a kind of authentic “volkisch” cultural nationalism with a basis in folk traditions of central and eastern Europe. Germany’s initiatives in music, film, and literature appealed to the cultural sensibilities of Europe’s conservative cultural elite, offering a third way between American commercialism (epitomized by jazz and Hollywood films) and Soviet Bolshevism. With the Fall of France in 1940, the Nazi-fascist new order aimed to replace Anglo-French Civilization the universalist basis of Europea

Why does the UN intervene in some cases of mass violence and not others? Why and how have public attitudes toward humanitarian intervention changed over the past decades? And how do the stories we tell each other about cases of violence and civil war impact our decisions about when intervention is appropriate? Carrie Booth Walling’s recent book, All Necessary Measures: The United Nations and Humanitarian Intervention (University of Pennsylvania Press, 2013) sets out to answer these questions. She looks at a series of international crises in the 1990s in the 1990s and early 2000s, beginning with Iraq in 1991-2 and concluding with the recent conflict in Syria. In each case, she examines how member-states in the UN characterize the conflict and how that characterization shapes their preferred responses. The conclusion is simple: narratives matter. They determine how people describe the conflict. They determine the kind of responses countries are willing to consider. And they determine, at least in part, wh

During the Second World War millions of Britons tuned in nightly to hear the broadcasts of Lord Haw-Haw coming from Nazi Germany. Though the label was broadly applied to a number of English-speaking broadcasters, it was most famously associated with William Joyce. In Searching for Lord Haw-Haw: The Political Lives of William Joyce (Routledge, 2016), Colin Holmes provides a study of Joyce’s life that unravels many of the mysteries and misconceptions surrounding it. He chronicles Joyce’s early years in Ireland, where his work as an informer and his family’s association with the British during the War of Independence led to his relocation to London after the Irish won their independence. There he quickly found a home in the embryonic Fascist movement, in which became a leading figure. His clashes with Oswald Mosley in the mid-1930s brought about Joyce’s purge from the British Union of Fascists in 1937 and the formation of his own National Socialist League. Yet it was Joyce’s relocat

In this lively memoir, We’re In America Now: A Survivor’s Stories (Holy Cow! Press, 2016), Fred Amram offers a series of stories documenting his childhood in 1930s Germany through his coming-of-age in New York City, after his family’s successful immigration to the United States in 1939. With clarity and a touch of humor, Amram provides well-crafted portraits of family members and a vivid sense of what it meant to be a child in Nazi Germany and a refugee in World War II America and beyond.Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices