IDEOLOGIES OF WAR, GENOCIDE & TERROR NEWSLETTER
 

Dear Colleague,

A review of Nations Have the Right to Kill appeared recently in the Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion (see below).

I liked the reviewer’s observation that I “skillfully confront the taken-for-granted worlds of nationalism and political realism” (structurally embodied in militarism and warfare), and “make them suddenly seem utterly peculiar and bizarre.”

Yes, utterly peculiar and bizarre: Men walking into artillery shells and machine gun fire for four years; military leaders asking young men to get out of trenches and to run into artillery shells and machine gun fire for four years; national leaders and populations enthusiastic and supportive.

Here are the results of the war that lasted from August 1, 1914 through November 11, 1918.

Country Men Mobilized Killed Wounded POW's + Missing Total Casualties Casualties in % of Men Mobilized
Grand Total 65
million
8.5 million 21 million 7.7 million 37
million
57%

Please see also the Wikipedia article.

Deep down, people have difficulty believing that what happened really occurred, even though it actually did. To get a sense of what was going on during the First World War, please take a look at this clip from Stanley Kubrick’s film, Paths of Glory, depicting the attack of 8,000 French soldiers as they leave their trench to attack Germans in a typical World War I battle.

This excerpt from the movie provides a mild or relatively benign portrait of a World War I battle. Kubrick did not show, for example, the Battle of Somme, where British soldiers lined up in rows and were slaughtered as they walked straight into machine-gun fire. “They went down in their hundreds. You didn’t have to aim, we just fired into them,” wrote one German machine-gunner. One British battalion was unable to advance because it could not climb over the bodies of the dead and wounded blocking the way.

It is estimated that there were 60,000 British casualties on the first day of the Battle of the Somme on July 1, 1916 (20,000 killed and 40,000 wounded). Yet British General Douglas Haig didn’t call off the battle. He persisted fighting—using the same futile strategy—for four months.  Only on 18 November, as winter set in, did the battle grind to a halt.  From a military perspective, nothing had changed, apart from the fact that many young men were dead. The final casualties were: British 415,000, French 195,000, Germans perhaps 600,000.

By calling the events that occurred during the First World War strange and bizarre, I’m not saying something radical. One might reasonably consider my perspective the default position. Yet rarely do we hear historians use words like “strange” and “bizarre” as they chronicle these strange, bizarre events.

In the quiet of the movie theater (or when watching the clip I’ve provided), the idea often passes through one’s mind: “War is insane.” However, rarely is warfare conceived as a form of (collective) insanity.

Why is that which is strange and bizarre and perhaps insane conceived as a form of normality? What is warfare, anyway? Do we really know what was going on during the First World War?

Begin again as if you know nothing. Drop what you imagine that you know. Then we can begin a genuine exploration.

With regards,

Richard Koenigsberg


Review Essay of Nations Have the Right to Kill: Hitler, the Holocaust and War. Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion, Volume 48 Issue 4 (December 2009).

By Matthew Eddy
University of Oregon - Eugene, Oregon

If a case can be made that nationalism is a religion or a quasi-religion, few books rival Koenigsberg’s slim volume, Nations Have the Right to Kill. Employing anthropological philosophy and historical analysis, the author skillfully confronts the taken-for-granted worlds of nationalism and political realism (structurally embodied in militarism and warfare), and makes them suddenly seem utterly peculiar and bizarre, even as they are shown to have logical resonance with earlier regimes of “human sacrifice” like that found in the priesthood and warfare of the Aztecs. Throwing back the curtain on reifications of the nation-state, Koenigsberg interrogates motivations and rationalizations behind the human tragedies of the two World Wars, and how the two wars might be related in ways not previously considered.

One of Koenigsberg’s central theses is that it was Hitler’s belief that German Jews had been “shirkers” of their military responsibilities in World War I which motivated his pursuit of the “Final Solution.” Many readers are likely familiar with history textbook accounts of how Hitler blamed Germany’s loss in WWI on the Jews, but Koenigsberg advances a more nuanced version. Through rhetorical and biographical analysis Koenigsberg aims to reveal Hitler’s own thought processes as he came to embrace, as an article of faith, the idea that “Nations have the right to kill” – the right to kill their own soldiers as well as populations within the nation that deny this faith (e.g., pacifists and Jewish “shirkers”), that refuse to worship the nation and who maintain subnational or cosmopolitan loyalties, or that serve to “drain” the nation’s resources.  It was Hitler’s justifications for the mass slaughter he witnessed in WWI, which became logically extended to the Nazi euthanasia and genocidal programs.

Here, we can seize a theory-building opportunity that Koenigsberg neglects to, as it seems Hitler developed a kind of secular theodicy (i.e., an explanation for evil or legitimation of suffering and death) when confronted with the tragedy of WWI. Koenigsberg asserts that Hitler’s patriotism made him constitutionally unable to criticize Germany’s leaders even as he personally witnessed the futility of WWI. But where did this uncritical patriotism come from? Koenigsberg’s answer risks circularity, as he claims the patriotic fervor came from the very deaths of German soldiers that Hitler witnessed in WWI. That is, the “sacrifice” of soldiers reifies the nation-state on a deep social-psychological level, making it effectively sacred.

Koenigsberg advances several arguments about modern warfare at a high level of generality, though we should remember that not all wars fit the template of the World Wars. He proposes it is more accurate to speak of nation-states killing and “sacrificing” their own soldiers in wartime, as opposed to speech conventions that would have us believe enemy armies have killed their fallen soldiers. In a supporting argument, Koenigsberg debunks modern warfare as an expression of traditionally “masculine” heroism, when in reality it often demands absolute submission and “abject passivity” such that one offers “no resistance” when “put forward as a sacrificial victim” (p.55). His anthropological lens comes through as he writes, “We encourage the soldier’s delusion of masculine virility and call him a hero – in order to lure him into becoming a sacrificial victim” (p.76).

Scholars of religion may bristle at the running metaphor of nationalism as a religion, viewing such definitions as a sacred canopy that has become, conceptually, far too big a tent. Yet, the force of Koenigsberg’s contention leaves little doubt that in analyzing nationalism and warfare, we are treading on a kind of sacred ground in which rituals and duties engage issues of basic trust and faith, and the meaning of life and death, even as ultimate and redemptive meanings are promised. The assertion that nations demand “human sacrifice” in war as a ritual process which justifies and “makes the nation come alive” (p.33), builds momentum through accounts of the two World Wars, and a suggestive chapter comparing Aztec and Western Warfare. The Aztec practices of war were conceived as a “sacred duty” to the sun god, and the rhetoric of Hitler and many other wartime European leaders are shown to parallel those ancient ideologies of human sacrifice.

The strength of this book, which rests in fleshing out original lines of argument and grounding them in historical evidence, also presents noticeable weaknesses. First, despite some intriguing theorizing about the roles of ritual process and “human sacrifice,” Koenigsberg risks reducing history to biography – at times to the psycho-biography of Hitler and at other times merely to the texts of his speeches and writings. There is a clear need for more sociological lenses. Although not every monograph need cover the waterfront of possible interpretations of complex events, the most glaring weakness is the failure to address major explanations for the anti-Semitism of Hitler and the Nazis, whether supportive or competing, in the existing literature.  To that end, obviously Koenigsberg should reduce his claims and clarify that his thesis only names one of the dynamics shaping how Hitler and the Nazis perceived Jews.

Second, whether or not German Jews were “shirkers,” the author has a responsibility to document the truth, rather than simply assert Hitler’s belief was false. The notion that Hitler sincerely but erroneously overgeneralized from a few Jewish acquaintances, leaves us with the dubious proposition that if Hitler had access to more accurate nationwide data on “shirkers,” he would have never demonized the Jews. On the other hand, Koenigsberg fails to mention the presence of Jehovah’s Witnesses among the Holocaust victims, and the roles their “shirking” of military service and sub-national loyalty played in condemning them to that fate – clear points of support for his thesis.

Third, as mentioned above, for all the detail on Hitler’s personal experience as a soldier in World War I, an opportunity was missed to theorize more fully why Hitler subverted his anger and doubt about WWI’s purpose and meaning, into unshakeable faith in Germany as his “ultimate concern” (in Tillich’s phrase). The literature on scapegoating mechanisms could have shed light here, but perhaps another underlying issue is how secular theodicies (often in the service of nationalism) and religious theodicies synthesize or displace each other in the political realm. On this front, Peter Berger’s seminal theory of theodicies would be a resource. There are important theoretical claims to be made here regarding the intersection of history, tragedy, nationalism, personal experience, and the spiritual dimension. Such claims are often only suggestively developed in the text, but Koenigsberg raises issues worthy of continued exploration.