Philip Roth's Plot Against America and the possibilities of history

Bergen’s exploration of the preconditions (or as she calls it, the “dry timber”) that made the Holocaust not inevitable but possible highlights one of the genocide’s scariest qualities for me: how comprehensible the path there was, and how rationally the roots can be explained. Browning’s detailed explanations of Police Battalion 101’s actions and reactions in Ordinary Men achieve a similar humanization and rationalization for me. Our discussions of these works highlighted each writer’s ability to debunk popular concepts of German demonization, and to make the Holocaust not simply a uniquely German entity without undermining or obscuring the genocide’s horrific aspects. These significant themes reminded me (for soon to be obvious reasons, I hope) of a book I read a few years ago, Philiip Roth’s The Plot Against America.

In this work of historical fiction, Roth reinvents his actual youth as a young Jewish boy in a predominately Jewish neighborhood in New Jersey (born in 1933) in an alternative direction of US history. In this novel FDR does not get reelected in 1940, rather Roth alters historical reality having America elect Charles Lindbergh 33^rd president. Roth explains in an essay about his book:

…In 1940, when the country was angrily divided between the Republican isolationists, who, not without reason, wanted no part of a second European war -- and who probably represented a slight majority of the populace -- and the Democratic interventionists, who didn't necessarily want to go to war either but who believed that Hitler had to be stopped before he invaded and conquered England and Europe was entirely fascist and totally his…But if Lindbergh had run? With that boyish manly aura of his? With all that glamour and celebrity, with his being virtually the first great American hero to delight America's emerging entertainment society? And with his unshakeable isolationist convictions that committed him to keeping our country out of this horrible war? I don't think it's far-fetched to imagine the election outcome as I do in the book, to imagine Lindbergh's depriving Roosevelt of a third term.

After the famous aviator, known for not only isolationist policies but also anti-semitic attitudes towards Jews, takes the election he signs a non-aggression pact with the Axis powers to uphold his promise of keeping Americans out of another damaging war. Minor outbursts of anti-semitism grow slowly over time, become normalized, and eventually build to larger outbreaks of violence.

            Many questioned the novels reflection on the present when it came out in 2004 during Bush’s presidency. Roth asserts that he wrote Plot Against America to use the past to illuminate the past. One way I think the author achieves this is by highlighting the way “dry timber” and preconditions for making violence (that can, and often does, lead to more violence) possible (not inevitable) existed (and continue to exist) everywhere. In the novel Roth brings up the concept that, as the author puts, “all the assurances are provisional, even here in a 200-year-old democracy.” He emphasizes the unforeseen possibilities of history before it happens. On the other hand one review of the novel connects Roth’s exploration of 1940 America’s “dry timber” to actions taken in actual genocides: “Lindbergh’s America and Pol Pot’s Cambodia as Jewish families are moved from their suburban homes to work in rural settings, far away from friends and family.  The disappearance of Lindbergh’s plane and the blame subsequently laid at the door of Jewish interests was reminiscent of the event which triggered the Rwandan genocide in 1994.” These connections bring this reviewer to emphasize,  “genocide in different countries and different cultures follow similar recognizable and preventable patterns.” I think that the point this reviewer raises is compelling, relevant, and that these similarities can comment on conditions that make genocide possible. However these similarities can bring one to question how predictable patterns leading to atrocities can be without the reflection of history. They relate to current questions Obama’s Atrocities Prevention Board faces in building a framework to prevent genocide and crimes against humanity from recurring.

Roth essay: http://kristof.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/03/28/beyond-kony-how-to-prevent-atrocities-before-they-happen/?scp=6&sq=genocide&st=cse

Review: http://www.louisereviews.com/

A Critical Look at the Nomenclature of Stalin's Genocides

If we as a class have looked critically at the controversy over nomenclature surrounding the Armenian Genocide, I believe we must also look critically at Stalin's mass murders.  I'd like to start by giving a working definition of genocide that we as a class have agreed on.  However, this can't be the case as we really haven't agreed on anything, just as historians can't agree.  It seems as all events must be defined on a case by case basis, with intent being the primary deciding factor, and scale being the least important factor.  To me, the intent to wipe out a group of peoples because of who they are is most important.  The definition of these targeted groups of people is most easily done through religion or ethnicity, because they are self-defined groups. 

Who did Stalin imprison, expel, and kill?  Counterrevolutionaries.  Some may argue that his mass murders do not constitute a genocide because they were his own people, and there was no cultural eradication.  Indeed, within the "national in form, socialist in context" refrain, individuals could keep their national heritage alive within the context of the USSR.  However, Stalin would not have seen counterrevolutionaries as his own countrymen, as they were traitors or saboteurs going against the socialist cause. 

But because technically anyone could be labeled a counterrevolutionary, how defined of a social group is that?  The woman who was ten minutes late to work and was sent to the labor camps, who is to say that she defined as such?  Or the man whose truck got stuck in the mud?  In essence, all evidence points towards the other way, that her unintentional lateness was not an example of sabotage.  Besides these extreme examples, however, Stalin also targeted the bourgeoisie with the creation of the kulak class.  If the killings had been limited to this group of people, that would make an easier case for genocide.  But because anyone could be a counterrevolutionary, even Trotsky and heroes from 1917, the case for genocide is difficult to make.

Problems of defining the Holodomor as genocide

Norman Naimark defines the Ukrainian famine of 1932-33, or Holodomor, as undoubtedly constituting genocide. However, only 14 nations, most of them former Soviet Union satellites, have recognized it as such (the United States does not). Naimark's analysis of the Holodomor claims that high-level Soviet authorities, including Stalin himself, implemented and encouraged the policy of massive grain requisitioning and must have been aware that doing so would result in mass starvation and the deaths of millions. His claim is supported by Stalin's mistrust of all peasants as a class, but his suspicion of Ukrainian nationalism, which was (and still is!) very strong, is what makes the Holodomor easy to define as genocide. It may not be fair, but a racial component seems to be necessary to define an act of mass murder as genocidal.

If this is the case, though, why is the Holodomor not widely known, let alone accepted as genocide? (I am a Russian studies major, and I didn't even know about it until last year!) Naimark attributes it to the fact that Stalin killed millions of "his own people", meaning ethnic Russians, through the purges, de-kulakization, and war. His lack of discrimination in the killing process can be seen as a negation of the racial component, making it more difficult to define the Holodomor as genocide, at least in the popular interpretation.

However, the two main problems with defining the Holodomor as genocide are strikingly similar to those of the Armenian situation. First, there is the question of intent. Due to the lack of evidence, it is difficult to prove that either the Young Turks or the Stalinist regime meant to eliminate their "enemy populations" and is thus a point of contention among scholars. This leads to another issue, which is the  assessment of whether premeditation is a necessary condition to define an act of mass murder as genocide. If the end result is genocide, does it matter how it started?

The second problem is that of national self- interest. In both cases, the perpetrator- nations are (or were) very powerful, and alliances with them were held in the highest priority. Thus, major Western powers, the United States in particular, have been hesitant to bring up this issue. Will the Holodomor be officially recognized as genocide by America or the international community as a whole? If the Armenian genocide provides any insight into this situation, then the answer is, sadly, no.

Genocide and Intent

Several times during the semester we as a class have explored the extent to which acts can be classified as “genocidal.”  Typically, this classification rests on an understanding of intent.  A breakdown of some things related to intent that we’ve touched upon:

1)   Can one commit genocide “by neglect”? 

2)   Can one commit genocide not by explicitly ordering the death of a group but by ordering or implying that the group should be exposed to conditions which may be expected to result in injury or death to members of that group/the destruction of that group? 

3)   Or, perhaps most controversially, can one be said to have committed genocide without having actively exposed a group to injurious conditions (as in point two, which could be exemplified by death marches, egregiously overcrowded facilities, etc.), but by complete apathy?  In other words (to paraphrase Sam Paltrow in her post of March 9^th, 2012)[1], is a total lack of concern about a population equivalent to intentional extermination of that population? 

It is with profound trepidation that I consider – even in the abstract – the extent to which “intent” can be removed from a potentially genocidal act such that said act could still be considered “genocide” for two reasons.  Firstly, drawing any legitimate conclusion on the matter requires a rock-solid definition of genocide.  Sufficiently divergent discourses concerning different variations of the definition of “genocide” persist to this day, demonstrating that a crucial, foundational element of any judgment I could make may not, in fact, exist.  Secondly, I don’t have the answer, nor, frankly, do I know where to start.  This post, then, is intended to help bring the last question I ask above in point 3 back into the discourse. 

The ramifications are potentially enormous.  If the answer is affirmative: though I cannot prove it, I am willing to bet a large sum of money that the number of officially recognized genocides would be obliged to increase.  Or, at least, pressured to do so.


[1] http://moderneurasiangenocides.blogspot.com/2012/03/normal.html

Eugenics in the United States: is it over?

     The eugenics movement in the United States was popular for almost a century starting in the late 1800s and declining after WWII when knowledge about the sterilization and euthanasia of thousands of Jews, disabled, and others deemed inferior in Nazi Germany caused many Americans to reconsider the eugenics movement in the U.S. While it lasted, the eugenics movement sought to control the reproduction of blacks and immigrant populations through sterilization and legalization of birth control. Founded in 1921 by Margaret Sanger as the American Birth Control League, Planned Parenthood was actually the country’s first birth-control clinic as well as a tool of the eugenics movement.[1] Beyond sterilization, these populations were sometimes even abused as test subjects, such as in the Tuskegee syphilis experiment where 600 African-American men with syphilis were intentionally lied to about their illness and not given treatment despite clinicians' knowledge and the availability of penicillin.[2]

            While the U.S. eugenics movement has largely dispersed, ideas of genetic superiority are still imbedded in our culture. Project Prevention, an organization run by Barbara Harris, pays drug-users $300 to be sterilized (after criticism this was expanded to include long acting reversible contraceptives as well).[3] Harris, who is often quoted for saying, “We don’t allow dogs to breed. We spay them. We neuter them. We try to keep them from having unwanted puppies, and yet these women are literally having litters of children”[4] has been accused of practicing modern-day eugenics. Harris says that she is just trying to protect the children, saying, “I don’t believe that anybody has the right to force their addiction on another human being.” Martin Barnes, the chief executive of DrugScope, worries, “who would be targeted next, people who smoke, have mental health problems, or live in poverty?”[5] By using financial incentives to encourage a certain group to stop reproducing I believe Harris is discriminating against drug users and infringing on their rights to self-determination. Although not necessarily a strictly racial group, I believe this targeted discrimination could be genocidal if we consider the way Naimark defines genocide. By encouraging sterilization and using advertisements such as, “Don’t let pregnancy get in the way of your crack habit” Harris insinuates (and not so subtly) that these women are and will always be, incapable of being good mothers and of having healthy babies. I also wonder how "voluntary" the participation really is. As Helen Ubiñas said in an open letter through NAPW, “There's nothing voluntary when you're waving $300 under a drug addict's nose.”

---

[1] Baer, Judith A. Historical and Multicultural Encyclopedia of Women's Reproductive Rights in the United States. Westport, CT: Greenwood, 2002. Print.

[2] http://www.hsl.virginia.edu/historical/medical_history/bad_blood/report.cfm

[3] http://www.projectprevention.org/

[4] http://www.telegraph.co.uk/health/8071664/Drug-addict-sterilised-for-cash-but-can-Barbara-Harris-save-our-babies.html

[5] http://www.telegraph.co.uk/health/8071664/Drug-addict-sterilised-for-cash-but-can-Barbara-Harris-save-our-babies.html

Battlestar Galactica and the Issue of Genocide (contains spoilers for the show)

The science-fiction show Battlestar Galactica ran from 2004 to 2009. An excellent show based off an earlier version done in the late 1970s, it has a central theme of genocide, what counts as genocide, and how to deal with it. The show opens with the near-obliteration of the human race, leaving roughly 50,000 survivors to explore the universe in the hopes of finding a new home. The cylons, originally robots created by the humans who turned against them in a bitter war forty years prior to the show, had returned with the intent of wiping out the human race. The twist, however, is that the cylons had figured out how to make new models that appeared human – the doctors cannot recognize a difference. There is a supposed test created early in the show that can test for synthetic somethings (it’s never really made clear), but that never resurfaces. There are, however, infinite copies of the same model, so that when one dies, its memories are uploaded into another copy which can then go out into the world (or wherever it needs to go).

The humanoid cylons (often referred to as “skin jobs”), despite the fact that they are supposedly machines, follow a religion. They believe in the “one true god,” whereas the humans that they were trying to eliminate were mainly a polytheistic society, with a religion that reflected what we know as ancient Greek mythology. These cultural differences play a large role in the conflict between the two “races” portrayed in the show. Both see the religion of their enemy as wrong and inferior (for a time, anyway). In addition, both societies fancy themselves to be democracies, although they work in different ways. The humans elect a president and vice president, and the twelve former colonies are represented in a quorum. The cylons work together to vote based on a majority-rules system. However, both societies are blatantly capable of genocide and mass murder, which is talked about particularly in our reading by Michael Mann, who argued that liberal democracy does not exclude genocide and atrocities. While it might be argued that it is not genocide because it is machines versus humans, it is an attempt to completely eliminate another race and their culture, and the “skin jobs” are much more human than is initially believed. It is proved that there can be offspring between a human and a cylon, and the emotions felt by the cylons are a contradiction to the theory of their simply being a machine.

In addition to this opening massacre, much of the show focuses on the human-cylon war, in which each side tries to evade and eliminate the other. In one episode, it is discovered that the cylons are susceptible to a particular disease that humans long ago developed an immunity to. Some of the humans wish to send the sick cylons that they’ve captured into the rest of the cylon fleet, thereby wiping out everyone in one fell swoop with biological warfare. The episode (“A Measure of Salvation,” Season 3, Episode 7) focuses on the arguments for and against wiping out the cylons. On the one hand, it is recognized as a genocidal act – but on the other hand, these are the enemies that obliterated the human race and have been hunting these few survivors ever since. Why not end the hunt, save the remaining humans, and never have to fear their enemies again? It is up to the sabotage of one human – who knows firsthand just how human the skin jobs can be – to save the cylon race by killing the infected prisoners.

Another episode, much earlier, shows a cylon-created “hospital” on an abandoned, nuked planet in which the cylons try to harvest reproductive organs from remaining humans, as well as experiment on them, in an attempt to figure out how they can reproduce and create fully cylon offspring. This example of forced sterilization, in addition to torture and death, completely goes along with the definition of genocide.

Later in the series, the genocidal arguments waver as the cylons are divided by a civil war. There is always the question of trust, but it becomes less genocidal on the side of the humans when there is the desire to team up with these rebel cylons.

The genocidal acts of the cylons against the humans in the series, especially early on, are fairly blatant and unarguable. It becomes more convoluted later in the show, but the focus on what constitutes a genocide and what is a just retaliation remains.

Also it’s an excellent show and you should watch it.

Public Perception of Mass Murder

I saw this article on CNN.com today entitled “Are mass killings on the increase?  Expert says no”, and opened it, naturally thinking it was about the recent violence in the Middle East or in Mexico.  To my surprise, it was in part a reaction to the shooting at Oikos University in Oakland, and more generally about the phenomenon of gun violence in the U.S.  The article highlighted the recent wave of high-profile shootings across the nation, and posed the question of whether or not such mass killings were on the rise.  Statistically, it turns out that while there are more murders and mass killings now than there were in the 1960’s, there has not been a recent upwards trend of mass murder specifically.  Instead, the article points out that there has been a dramatic increase in media coverage relating to these tragedies, and this increase combined with attention- grabbing headlines and sensationalist reporting might have skewed the frequency of these events in the minds of many Americans.

            I bring up this article because in our discussions of historical genocides, we often use the terms “genocide” and “mass killings” interchangeably.  While the two terms are technically different (according to the article a mass killing means four or more deaths not counting terrorism, while genocide is the specific targeting of groups for destruction), both have been used to describe the murderous actions of Hitler, Stalin and Pol Pot, among many others.  Indeed, many recent events such as the violence in Darfur and Somalia have been labeled genocides, and there is hardly a recent conflict in any part of the world that unfortunately has not involved some sort of mass killing. 

After studying mass murderers like Stalin, or hearing news about the deaths of thousands in Syria, however, it is a bit jarring to read a report describing the Oakland school shooting that killed seven, or the recent attack on Representative Giffords that left six dead and thirteen injured, as mass murders.  While the media certainly sensationalizes headlines to draw attention to their reports (mass murder sounds more exciting than seven dead), I think this phenomenon also speaks to the way we view violence and death, both in our country and throughout the world.  After all, we will remember the Columbine Massacre long after we forget about Anders Breivik, the Norwegian mass murderer who killed 77 people last year and is scheduled to go on trial in two weeks.  Ultimately, any murder is a tragedy, and I do not want to take away from the awful nature of any of the events described above.  Rather, I think the issues of collective memory, regional and national biases, and the constant role of the media are important concepts to keep in mind whenever issues like genocide and mass murder are discussed.

              

The Wall of Baia Mare: Racism or Public Service?

At the end of War and Genocide, Bergen makes it quite clear that for many, the persecution suffered under the Nazi government did not end with the war but continued throughout the 20th century at the hands of other groups.  As one specific case she mentions the Roma who were left homeless by arson attacks in the 1990s in Romania.  It should come as no surprise, then, that when plans were announced last summer to build a wall between the Roma neighborhood of the Romanian city of Baia Mare and the rest of the community, many Roma groups and NGOs were quick to call foul play.  As many have  pointed out, the wall could be a blatant attempt at segregation or ghettoization. Additionally, because the apartments in question have no running water or electricity and the local governments have made little or no effort to improve living conditions in the area, some would claim that it even meets the qualification of "Deliberately inflicting on the group conditions of life calculated to bring about its physical destruction in whole or in part" as set in the UN convention on genocide.  With this in mind, the Romanian National Council for Combatting Discrimination (NCCD) initiated an investigation, ruled that the wall did qualify as discrimination, and fined Catalain Chereches, the Mayor of Baia Mare, almost $2000.

However, Chereches defends the wall as something of a public service. In a short video about the wall done by the Agence France-Presse (AFP), Chereches says that the wall, which is approximately two meters high and runs for 100 meters along a main thoroughfare, is there to prevent children from the Roma community from running into the street and getting hit by cars.  In addition, following the decision of the NCCD, Chereches also contested their findings, and an appeals court later cleared him of the charge altogether.  

But the story continues.  Following the affair concerning the wall and in response to complaints about the living conditions in the Roma neighborhood, Chereches announced plans to build a new set of apartments, complete with running water, electricity, and central heat; in land purchased across the river from the main town.  Almost immediately, this announcement was met with many of the same claims of discrimination as before. NGOs claimed that the decision was made without the consent of the Roma, which would make the movement a forced eviction, while Chereches claimed that he had been working closely with the Roma, that the movement was taking place with their full consent, and that the NGOs in question were deliberately misinforming news agencies, and foreign governments.  As far as I know, the situation has not been resolved or, if it has, I couldn't find any information about it in English.

The events in Baia Mare raise several questions in my mind.  Specific to the situation, is it possible that the Mayor's actions, which appear to be discriminatory, are actually being misinterpreted? If so, how can we tell the difference?  More broadly, how do we determine the intent of an action, and is the willful intent to discriminate against someone (or to commit genocide) necessary for us to label an action as discriminatory (or genocidal)?

For example, if a non-minority group lived in the neighborhood in Baia Mare that the Roma inhabit and the city decided to build a wall, most people would probably accept that the wall was truly intended to protect children. The largest complaint would be that the wall is rather ugly and inconvenient, and there might be efforts to change the speed limit or install a traffic light as an alternative.  Instead, many have concluded that because the Roma are on one side of the wall, it is an obvious attempt to build a ghetto around them.  The same can be said of the planned development.  If a non-minority was offered free or subsidized housing in order to improve their living situation, it would be hailed as the government serving the people, even if it is a bit further from town.  However, because they are Roma, and the development will house multiple groups of Roma from different neighborhoods (all of whom are currently living in tenements built during the Soviet occupation), it is assumed that the intent is to remove the Roma from the city.  

In this case, I believe that it's entirely possible that Mayor Chereches is acting with the best of intentions as he says.  Perhaps the decision to build a wall or ask people to move on short notice was made easier by the fact that those people are Roma, but I think it stops far short of outright discrimination.  I also believe that the various NGOs and the NCCD may have acted a bit quickly.  While racism and discrimination are still undoubtedly a problem in our world, I think that we should make an attempt to understand a situation, including it's causes and results, before making a value judgement about the character of those taking action.  Vigilance is laudable, but we should stop short of jumping at shadows.

"genocidal" vs. genocide

         While reading Naimark's introduction, I found one of his comments particularly interesting. He states:

"Forced deportation is clearly a 'crime against humanity,' but the results can sometimes be considered 'genocidal' meaning 'like genocide,' but not necessarily with the same jurisprudential implications that come from labeling discrete episodes 'genocide,'" (13).

         Naimark argues that these difficult distinctions are vital in comprehending Stalin's murderous rule and the "genocidal character of his regime," (14). Not only does the combination of these statements seem to contradict Naimark's main point in arguing that Stalin committed genocide, but it also brings up the question of distinction among crimes as being "genocidal" or "genocide". If an event, such as forced deportations, are like genocide - what does that entail? How is an event "like" genocide and not actually genocide? It seems that Naimark cites the legal implications of genocide as the determining factor of whether or not an act can be called genocide, which then brings up the question of labeling an act as genocide and considering an act to be genocide. Looking back to the events in 1920s Turkey, this distinction is especially pertinent to the argument over whether the Armenian mass murders were either just that or were genocide. And if they were simply mass murders, can we consider those murders to be "genocidal" in character without the events being labeled as genocide?
      Naimark states that genocide "required a certain level of murderous premeditation... and an intention to attack the group as a whole by destroying a significant part of it," (13). Thus, not all of Stalin's acts could be deemed genocide - simply "genocidal." The difference between the two is more clearly illustrated here as being intent and premeditation - which we have discussed at length as being the most difficult aspects of genocide to prove. Because this is the case, it seems as though labeling an act as "genocidal" is a concession when intent is unprovable.
        To me, this also refers back to the U.N. definition of genocide. If the definition makes it possible to distinguish acts as genocidal and others as genocide, then what does that say about how we determine what genocide is? Again, this all goes back to the idea of intent, which is such a groundless and metaphysical concept. Should the definition of genocide - that convicts some of genocide and pardons others for genocidal acts or acts of genocidal character (an even more vague label) - be based on something as difficult to prove as intent and premeditation? I would argue yes and no. Yes, because then the concept of genocide will be kept "sacred" in a sense and not used at random to describe horrific events - the idea that if everything is considered genocide, then nothing is. I would then also argue that the definition should not be based on intent and premeditation because then victims go unrecognized and perpetrators go unpunished due to a lack of evidence, such as in the Armenian case. Obviously, the legal U.N. definition is not going to change anytime soon, and until we as people are able to better define what genocide is, we will have to settle with the vague distinction between genocidal acts and acts of genocide.

The Secret Libyan Genocide

 I recently went to a lecture by a Libyan-American professor named Ali Ahmida. In his lecture he spoke about the very-rarely-talked-about Libyan Genocide of the 1920s and 1930s. After reading articles written by him on the topic I thought I might give an overview of the genocide to others who might not know about it.

In 1922 the Italian Fascist party gained control of Italy and thus gained control of Libya. The Fascist party rejected the old Italian regime's attempt to educate and "Italianize" Libyans. Instead, they viewed Libyans as an inferior race with an inferior and banned education to Libyans after 6th grade. Libyans could only work as laborers.  Libyan resistance fighters, led by the infamous Umar al-Mukhtar, fought back against the brutal Fascist policies. In response, Mussolini forcibly deported two-thirds of the population of eastern Libya to concentration camps. Eastern Libya had been the central organizing ground for the Libyan resistance, and with two-thirds of its population now deported, the resistance was crushed. Experts estimate that as many as 70,000 Libyans died during the concentration camps due to forced starvation, induced epidemics, grueling death marches and terrible living conditions. In addition to people, Fascists also captured and interned all livestock in Eastern Libya. 80% of all livestock died by 1934, making famine a reality for thousands more Libyans.

This topic is interesting to me because of its relative obscurity. Why don't people know about the Libyan genocide? Why isn't it talked about? Dr. Ahmida writes that the Libyan genocide is not acknowledged because of the Eurocentric and unfounded belief that Italian Fascist colonialism was somehow "benign"- at least when compared to Nazi Germany. Ahmida argues that genocide scholars have been preoccupied with European genocide and have failed to consider genocide under colonialism, because of the lack of regard for indigenous, brown populations: "German Nazis killed Europeans, creating outrage among other Europeans, but Italian Fascists killed North African Muslims, playing into orientalist fantasies and colonial racist and modernist ideologies about the dehumanized, backward natives and the price of modernity."

I think this topic really helps to illustrate holes in our academic and scholarly thinking: why do we accept one thing as genocide and not another? And to what extent does our acceptance of the term 'genocide' rest on our learned Euro-centric assumptions, or our previous exposure to the topic?

Neo-Nazis in Modern Day Germany

Following the collapse of the Third Reich, Germany established many laws with the purpose of preventing anything even resembling what happened under Hitler.  However, there has recently been a rise of the far right in Germany.  Under the new banner of the National Socialist Underground, these organizations focus on their dissatisfaction with the modern German state and what they feel is political oppression.  Some secretive groups are called "Free Forces".  Opponents of this movement argue that it opposes the German constitution.  There is also a counterculture element, similar to Nazism in its early days.

Once again, Germans of the far right are thinking in terms of race and space.  Some feel that Germans are second-class citizens in the post-war environment while others fear the eventual disappearance of Germans from Germany.  Once again, German women are encouraged to give birth to many German children.  Scarily similar to Nazi policy is the establishment of "national liberated zones" taken over by the far right.  They use violence to drive away those deemed threatening to their cause, focusing on the exact same targets as Hitler: leftists and ethnic minorities.  Some of the neo-Nazis believe that the lack of freedom of speech of their views will incite a revolution.  German law enforcement is trying to handle the problem of increasing neo-Nazi activity and violence.  Likewise, there have been speculations of banning the National Democratic Party, which has been linked to the movement.

A question this brings up is the allowance of political voice.  A complaint of Uwe Dreisch, a neo-Nazi, is that people are afraid to talk to those associated with the far right and simply ban them instead.  While there is muffling of the far right's politics, it may be a necessary measure.  These groups have been known to be violent, responsible for murders and inciting various other hate crimes.  However, open dialogue might also be necessary in order to quell political dissent that, if silenced, will likely continue to escalate within the movement, may lead to an outbreak of neo-Nazi violence and other hate crimes.  The fact that the movement has an underground component could make it harder to deal with if it does escalate to violence.  On the other hand, the inherent militarism of fascist and Nazi ideology can be enough cause to continue the measures that the German government has already put in place.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-17514394

Purges Beyond Stalin

Stalin's purges are well renowned as one of the greatest and cruelest examples of liquidation of political opposition. Stalin eliminated any persons he deemed counterrevolutionary and with the capability of harming his reputation. As we have read so far, these executions were widespread and encompassed many political opponents, some who were obviously innocent.

When debating whether these murders are genocide, it is also important to consider other instances of purges, especially in the twentieth century. I will focus on a couple instances of purges outside of the Soviet Union in the past century to detail that Stalin's acts were only unique in their scales. Destruction of a political opposition is hardly unique to Stalin. To further exemplify the lack of specialty in Stalin's purges, these instances are from capitalist, or at least noncommunist, regimes,  in other parts of the world besides Europe, and are more modern than Stalin's instance. One might point to Mao's Cultural Revolution in the late 1960s and 1970s as an example of another communist regime performing a similar feat; however, these two cases attempt to counter solely communist cases. A third case not detailed is the so called legal purges in France after World War II in which

The first and one of the more obvious instances of purges elsewhere in the world is in the instance of Chile, one of the wealthier and stabler countries in South America, after its infamous coup of 1973. Prior to 1973, Chile possessed a presidential government for a relatively stable 50 years, since 1925. The presidents gained considerable power under this system and implemented socialist policies until the 1970s. In 1970, Chile elected Salvador Allende as president, a Marxist that lured considerable foreign criticism. He nationalized many foreign industries, including those of the US, and caused massive backlash from the international community. Aided by the CIA, an opposition movement quickly arose and threatened Allende's presidency.

In September 1973, a military coup overthrew Allende and established a military government. Augusto Pinochet became leader of the junta and eventually president of Chile in 1974, and essentially dictator, under a new constitution. Although Pinochet was authoritarian like Stalin, he was hardly communist. In fact, shortly after his ascension to power, he began a purge similar to Stalin's of communist, Marxists and leftists in Chile. In the months after the coup, the military imprisoned thousands of suspected leftists and killed nearly 2,000. Chile refers to these purges as the "disappearances". Pinochet exiled and deported some 30,000 supposed leftist sympathizers.

Although these killings were not on the same scale as Stalin's, they provided an example of modern purges in a noncommunist regime. The disappearances specifically targeted Marxists. Obviously purges are possible for more conservative regimes; however, Pinochet was indeed a dictator. As a result, it is important to also analyze a non-authoritarian example.

Unlike Chile's purges, most people are familiar with the Red Scare and McCarthyism of the early and mid-twentieth century. It is important, first of all, to recall that these purges were much less severe than Stalin's. Executions did not occur and, as a result, they cannot be consider genocide by any means; however, they do exemplify the fact that removal of political opposition is possible in modern, Western nations. Especially under McCarthyism, thousands of people lost their jobs or were imprisoned for allegedly being communist or Soviet sympathizers.

McCarthy failed to extend his allegations to the military, unlike Stalin, and, as a result, his attacks fell short; nevertheless, the public supported McCarthy considerably under the mindset of eliminating communist sympathy. Organizations such as the ACLU removed employees that supported the Communist Party, displaying a national fear of communism beyond simply Senator McCarthy.

It may be difficult to consider such removal of political ideology as a purge without any murders, but at least the Red Scares demonstrated a possibility of purging in more democratic nations. Just as Christopher Browning argued that ordinary men committed the Holocaust, and thus anybody could've participated, the same can be said for Stalin's purges to a smaller extent.

Trying to End Genocide by Putting Ourselves in Their Shoes

            I am a member of United to End Genocide, an activist organization preceded by the Save Darfur Coalition and the Genocide Intervention Network. It operates primarily in the United States to lobby lawmakers and other people who have power to take action against genocide in the world. An email I received a while ago from United to End Genocide announced a day of action on March 16- a day of fasting to protest the Sundanese regime’s use of food as a weapon of genocide. Not only does this point to the fact that genocide is far from over in the modern world, it also tells us of a commonly used tactic in the genocides we have studied so far: food shortages. The limiting of food to a target population has been a hallmark of genocide for a long time- forcing people into cattle cars and on hundred mile marches without adequate food or water as in both the Armenian Genocide and the Holocaust, and the extreme rationing of food to Jews in the ghettoes, again during the Holocaust, though I know there are many more examples.

            However, what struck me most about this email was not the news it was reporting about the genocide in Sudan, or the use of food as a military weapon to cause the deaths of a target group. What interested me the most was that the organization was saying that to not eat on March 16 is to be in solidarity with the Sudanese and will call attention to the issue. Perhaps this will indeed be the case. However, the striking thing to me about this kind of action is that I think it is very common in the United States. When there is an issue of oppression or the hurting of innocents, we in the United States often look for a way that we can experience what the victims are experiencing, but on a very small level, and I have seen this occur with fasts several times in my life- the fasting is to feel that pain of the victim, or ostensibly is so. I wonder what this says about the US as a culture? Does it mean that we want to be able to feel what the victims are going through and in that way support them, or does it more so mean that feeling a little bit of the victim’s pain means that you have done your part, felt the pain, and in that way you have made yourself less complicit in the genocide happening in another part of the world and you no longer need to worry about it to the same extent? And that you may feel this way even though the part that you have done hasn’t constructively necessarily done anything at all towards solving the problem, or in this case, ending the genocide? (Though I do not discount that sometimes these actions do sometimes have effects, I am just interested in what it says about the US)