London, Saturday, November 6, 1999
The
German Army and Genocide Bitterness Stalks an
Exhibition By
MICHAEL
Z. WISE The decision
to postpone the United States debut of
"The German Army and Genocide"
exhibition puts a spotlight not just on
the difficulty of using archival
photographs as historical evidence but
a keen sensitivity within Germany about
questions of national honor as well.
The exhibition of photographs, personal
letters and documents, which had been
scheduled to open on Dec. 2 at Cooper
Union in Manhattan, challenges a belief
widely held in Germany and Austria that
the World War II German Army was the
sole decent institution under the Third
Reich. Since
it opened four years ago, the show has
enraged conservative politicians and
diplomats; right-wing extremists bombed
it and rioters sought to shut it
down. [Photo:
From "The German Army and Genocide" The
German Army carries out a public
hanging in Minsk, then part of the
Soviet Union, in 1941. The photograph
is part of "The German Army and
Genocide," whose opening at Cooper
Union has been delayed.] The exhibition's ability to ignite such
a furor arose from its harrowing
photographic component. Nearly a million
Germans and Austrians have visited the
display. In so doing young and old alike
have searched for and sometimes found
depictions that seemingly implicated
themselves or their relatives in wartime
atrocities. Still, historical photos purport to
show "the way it was," but as any viewer
of television documentary film can attest,
archival images can be deployed to support
a multitude of intentions. Thus once the
credibility of even a fraction of the
exhibition's images was clearly shaken,
the
independent
Hamburg Institute for Social Research,
which organized the event, decided it was
best to suspend future presentations and
subject all of its materials to careful
review. The institute announced on
Thursday [Nov 4, 1999] that it was
postponing the exhibition in New York and
in several German cities after admitting
that a small
proportion of the photos had been
inaccurately captioned. "Whatever mistakes and errors there are
have to be corrected as quickly as they
are presented," said the Cooper Union
historian Atina Grossmann, who
added that a consortium of
academics
from Cooper, Columbia, Princeton, Rutgers,
New York University and the New School
were determined to proceed with plans for
a major symposium next month on war crimes
organized in conjunction with the show,
including a workshop on the complexities
of photographic documentation of such
misdeeds. The average
American may have long ago assumed that
Hitler's army played a key role in the
Holocaust, but Germans and Austrians
have commonly held that the murder of
European Jewry was solely the handiwork
of SS fanatics and extermination
squads. And although Germans in recent
years have grappled with many aspects
of their dark past, the exhibition hit
a nerve so raw that it has had "the
effect of a national purgatory," said
the University of Chicago historian
Michael Geyer. More than 1,000 photos, 80 percent of
them taken by individual soldiers, form
its core. Some show smirking infantrymen
grabbing and cutting off the beards of
elderly Jews or executing innocent
bystanders at gunpoint. Other images
chronicle the plunder and torching of
villages by military forces as well as
troops' carrying out hangings. The exhibition includes official army
documents directing German military units
to wipe out Jewish communities. There are
also personal letters, like one of 1941
from an infantryman to his parents
boasting that his unit had killed 1,000
Jews in Ukraine and adding, "That is far
too few for what they have done." Soon after the exhibition began its
tour, critics charged that the photographs
were forgeries or incorrectly labeled. Last month a
Polish
historian, Bogdan Musial, published
an article in a German academic journal
stating that some of the images depicted
victims of murders in Ukraine committed by
Soviet forces, not German troops. By the time Musial's article appeared,
the Hamburg institute said it had
conducted additional research and
rephrased captions in the English-language
edition of the catalog to indicate that
some corpses in the relevant photos were
murdered by the Soviet secret police while
others were Jews killed by Germans who
later occupied the area. The institute's
research director, Bernd Greiner,
said that 10 pictures -- of a total of
more than 1,100 -- had been recaptioned or
removed since the exhibition originally
opened. Andre Schiffrin, director of the
New Press, which published the
English-language exhibition catalog, said
10,000 copies had already been shipped to
United States bookstores. "We have nothing
in the catalog, to my knowledge, that is
not historically correct," Schiffrin
said. While postwar Germany has reached a
consensus on the need to commemorate the
crimes of the Nazi regime, resistance to
acknowledging broader military involvement
in genocide remains fierce, since 20
million men -- a cross-section of society
-- served in the armed forces. The
exhibition has helped break down a
psychological fire wall between history at
large and family experience. To be sure, the idea that the army had
maintained a sense of professionalism and
ideological detachment throughout the war
had already been dealt a heavy blow in
academic circles. Over the last three
decades historians have documented with
increasing precision how soon after taking
power the Nazi regime indoctrinated the
Wehrmacht and then used it as a policy
tool until 1945. But not until the
exhibition began its tour in 1995 did this
knowledge seep into German popular
consciousness. The exhibition unexpectedly became a
historical event in its own right. As it
wended its way through Germany, still more
evidence came to light as visitors
responded by rummaging in their attics and
coming forth to donate dozens of
additional wartime photo albums to the
Hamburg institute. Many of these were to
have been displayed for the first time in
New York. Other sectors
of German society balked at the
exhibition's conclusion that not all
but a significant part of the armed
forces hardly deserved the unsullied
reputation made popular in postwar
films and novels. The Defense Ministry
expressly barred active soldiers from
participating in symposiums about the
exhibition; extremists bombed it in
Saarbrücken last March, and riots
erupted at several stops on its
travels. Chancellor Gerhard Schröder
never visited the exhibition and was
quoted as saying, "I find it impermissible
to say that the bulk of the army was
capable of committing such crimes." After
the chancellor declined an invitation to
accompany the French philosopher
Bernard-Henri Lévy on a tour
of the show, pleading a prior social
commitment, Lévy wrote in
Le Monde that
the Social Democratic leader's priority
was "a party rather than remembrance and
history." Historians at the Hamburg institute
said that the
disputed photos came
from Eastern bloc archives and that
they had relied too heavily on those
archives' own captioning for the
exhibition. "The vetting process did not
go far enough," the institute research
associate Hannes Heer said at a news
conference in Hamburg. Omer Bartov, a professor of
history at Rutgers who has written widely
on German Army involvement in genocide,
said, "It is unfortunate that some of the
photos may have been mislabeled, but to my
mind it casts no doubt whatsoever as to
the facts as they are presented in the
exhibition." He added that critics have "latched on
to these few unfortunate errors, which
have no bearing on the basic conclusions
of the exhibition or what the
historiography has shown." Related
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