sonderweg

What’s so “Peculiar” about German History?;
Sonderweg or Historians Wearing Blinders?

Allen, Anne, Feminism and Motherhood in Germany, 1800-1914
         Rutgers University Press, NJ, 1991
Blackbourn, David, and Ely, Geoff, The Peculiarities of German History; Bourgeois
       Society and Politics in Nineteenth Century Germany. Oxford University Press, 1984
Stern, Fritz The Politics of German Cultural Despair: A Study in the Rise of the German
       Ideology University of California, Berkley, 1961
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Several historians have offered the notion of Sonderweg, or the “peculiar path” of German history, in an attempt to understand and explain the atrocities of WWI and WWII. We seek to learn from the past in an effort to prevent disasters in the future. But perhaps the notion of an exclusive and unique ideology for Germany is too narrow minded, taken too far from its context within Western Europe. Nineteenth century Germany, after all, did not exist in a vacuum; it was surrounded by several countries with similar ideologies. A close reading of German history will show that, by and large, Germany progressed much like that of its neighbours. Thus, we continue to ask ourselves, “What is it about Germany that led the nation headlong into to the First and Second World Wars?”

Ely and Blackbourne posit that Germany experienced no particular exclusive path to its condition in the late nineteenth century, nor even into the early twentieth. Although a bourgeois revolution did not come to pass as Marx had predicted, a powerful yet subtle change occurred in the mid nineteenth century making bourgeois the dominant social class in Germany. That bourgeois society and liberalism are naturally bound to each other is a Hans Ulrich Wehler argument which Blackbourn and Ely strictly dispute throughout the book. Moreover, for Blackbourn, the evolution of a civil society is the sign of a revolution in Germany. Wehler’s revolution theory, however, depends too much on a narrow definition of a bourgeois revolution, the vision of a violent upheaval we commonly draw when the term is mentioned. Moreover, Blackbourne and Ely argue that this emerging of a civil society ‘revolution’ was not exclusive to Germany and that elites maintained dominance and held alliances with bourgeois after these slow simmering disputes in other countries as well, as in England. Nowhere in Europe did any nineteenth century class suddenly usurp state power and reshape society, leaving Germany neither lacking nor last to experience a political overhaul. While Germany was slower to implement the political policy changes common in France and England, they were far from politically backward. Changes regarding rule of law, property relations, and both constitution and national institutions were implemented. The pre-industrial elite did not bend to reform and thereby follow the path of their neighbours, but Germany’s economic strength was fast to catch up, and they did so long before 1914. It could be argued from observing much of economic and political history that where the economy is good, a policy of cooperation will follow. But in Germany, this was not the case. Political and social elements of the nation failed to keep pace with economic boom. Pre-industrial elites remained in power while middle class bourgeois aped their every move, reckoning cooperation and a strong economy were in their best interests. The bourgeois had no real ground for discontent. Lower classes, however, were left to fend for themselves. If there was a “revolution” in a traditional sense, it should have come from below.

As was common in other countries, class disparities became problematic in Germany. Working class officials became more enamoured with the ideology of revolution while the lower class fostered anti-capitalist and nationalist views. Meanwhile, even the rural peasants organised in associations and set forth to voice their opinions. It could surely be argued that such dramatic cleavages in political ideology by 1914 are what caused policy makers to look elsewhere for answers, hence the rise of fascism and the command of Hitler. Thus, Blackbourn and Ely claim rather effectively that Germany’s condition was not exclusive, and in doing so they demystify National Socialism and debunk the myth of Sonderweg.

Further fodder for consideration of German “peculiarity” is Anne Allen’s treatise on feminism and motherhood in post WWI Germany. She challenges prior assumptions that German women’s ideologies, when compared to American, created an inferior form of feminism and not the equality that we have come to associate with equal rights. What is most pervasive in this book is her repeated caution not to view the women she has investigated through a twentieth century lens, but to accept them in context. We historians have a duty to always consider this when we examine ideas and events, yet it is surprising how few of us really do it. Allen wishes “to trace the history of an idea—the idea of motherhood-and a movement, the women’s movement in Germany” (229). She employs journals, letters and written work primarily from six individuals, and while they are all upper-middle class women with time to write and become involved in their plight, her use of their legacy is both informative and insightful. Allen compares the German feminist situation with American at the close of each chapter and illuminates the differences, some subtle, some dramatic, in policy, ideology and outcome. She touches on England on occasion but not nearly enough. Her argument for an excusive path of ideology and action would have more ammunition had she compared German women with other European women who have more in common in general than with women in the United States.

What she does tell us is engaging and well written; a style departure from Blackbourn and Ely that could not be more distinct. German women, Allen claims, took motherhood and developed the notion of an all encompassing “spiritual motherhood”. They then in turn applied it to civil society in an effort to improve their community and station in life. They formed associations and schools, particularly the kindergarten, where children were taught decency along with history and mathematics. German society seemed to be recognising that Waterloo was won on the playing fields of Eton and it would be later said that German education helped Germany conquer France. This emphasis on nurturing the future residents and leaders of the community was unique and became highly desirable among the upper classes whose children were tutored by nannies trained in the Froebel schools. These women held public roles in society, and as one of the few vocations available to women, teaching proved to be a valuable segue to other professions. Women would soon work as educators, social workers and reformers. Employing experience from the delicate yet powerful role of motherhood, these women fused the gap between public and private spheres with their ability to be authoritative yet kind, assertive yet sympathetic. Much like Blackbourn’s bourgeoisie, many mid-nineteenth century German women sensed that cooperation outsmarted and outlasted resistance. They firmly asserted that women had a special place, that they played a special role in society different from a man; equally valuable but very different due to the nature of their ability as women to nurture. Harkening back to Linda Kerber’s work on women’s duty and responsibility as citizens, these ladies were determined to be active community caretakers as they felt a duty to fill the void left by men that they were naturally gifted to fill. Here is where they would receive criticism from fellow feminists in the United States who felt that the German softer, less aggressive form of feminism that gave women a place well rooted in the family and in the community was to ignore the full weight of the oppression they had sought to lift from their own lives. Perhaps regarding mid-nineteenth century feminism, German women did have their own Sonderweg. Unfortunately we won’t know until someone does the detailed research of comparing and contrasting their ideology with that of the balance of European women.

By the close of the nineteenth century, a more recognisable form of feminism developed with the next generation of reformers. Again Allen uses individuals to demonstrate the line of her argument; that material changes in family life would in turn alter the public sphere. Women in Germany had not ceased to care for their children; in fact they had more to concern themselves with than before, as they were actively pursuing reform for their children, parental rights, and biological status. A maternalist ideology gave way to a more biological argument with the advent of Darwin’s Theory of Evolution. Women were now seen simply as the vessel, and environment was no longer the determining factor for a child’s behaviour and habits. As a result, marriage laws, parental rights, infant mortality, and reproductive rights were found in favour of the paternal side. Philosophers such as Nietzche fuelled the fire. With motherhood no longer their chief value either private or public, women were forced to look elsewhere for validation and a way to support themselves and their community. Pressure to choose between motherhood and a career was deemed an unfit choice for many women, as Allen has demonstrated with her detailed evidence of letters and journals from politically active women who sought change. While they may have seemed radical at the time, the protection of women from court rulings in favour of the father seems perfectly reasonable to us now. A broader discussion of political influence by German women would have been interesting. Allen’s references to other nations and their ideologies are scant. The notion of a German Sonderweg in this case is therefore difficult to prove, as Allen repeatedly tells the reader, but ultimately fails to prove. However, seen in the light of exclusively female struggle and not sifted through liberalism, socialism, or conservativism, this study is unique, valuable, and even hopeful in its’ progress.

But not all of twentieth century Germany was progressively hopeful. The notion of cultural despair in Germany certainly doesn’t fall under the guise of Sonderweg, as much of Europe fell under a cloud of despair in the early twentieth century. Just a glance at period literature and art; examples such as Thomas Mann, Philip Wylie, Sartre, Camus, Gustav Klimt and others can be used as evidence of this phenomenon. What Stern does illuminate, however, is that for some, the German Sonderweg led to a sense of isolation, fostering a type of self hatred that may have led to the atrocities with which we now have come to associate twentieth century Germany. Considering the political disparities Blackbourn and Ely so clearly defined, it is clear that the melee that was to follow should not come as a surprise.

Stern traces the ideology of cultural despair, more plainly described as a loathing of modernisation, in three generations, tracking the differences in each. By using the works of three self described “conservative revolutionaries”; de Lagarde, Langbehn and Moeller; Stern describes a view of men who found themselves alienated by modernity and yearned for a conservative reform. They were though to be “conservative out of nostalgia and revolutionary out of despair.” (268) Perhaps their despair began at the reviled German Gymnasium, for they shared this institution in common, a scorn-riddled experience that widened the gap between them and the other students, and later society in general. Eschewing the rigours of academic discipline, these three turned their efforts towards intuitive and non-systematic knowledge such as travel and self taught philosophy. According to Stern, they were indiscriminate and partial borrowers of what they read. They chose to employ simplified ideas indiscriminately and often inappropriately to make their case. Their views were emotionally driven, their writings and speeches lacked balance, and were often bereft of rational thought.

A rush from despair to utopia made them appealing to their followers, as many Germans wished for nation unity. But these men were hardly conservative, as Stern so painstakingly chronicles, for they fostered radical, anti-industrial, anti-religious ideologies and abstract hatred of their ancestors. All three were desperate for attention and acceptance, but resented criticism of any kind. Lagarde was often distorted, extravagant, and hypercritical. Lanbehn “dimly perceived the connection between social inequality and political conflict, and sought to destroy the latter without impairing the former” and was known for the slogan “Equality is death, hierarchy is life”. (146) Their ignorance of politics was a factor in common and neutered their remarks at the base. Moeller’s hatred of the West was so vile and complete that it would be difficult for anyone to see him as anything but radical. Stern pulls no punches in describing al three of these political dilettantes, and with clear and eloquent writing, Stern educates, documents, and eve entertains his reader. On the other hand, his disdain of the three is so clear that one is left to wonder if he can be objective, if he is telling the whole story. An independent investigation of de Lagarde, Langbehn and Moeller will disclose Stern’s level of objectivity. Finally, it is doubtful that these three radically emotional fundamentalists had that much impact on German society to explain the rise of the Third Reich and the tragic events that followed. I offer that it is more likely the influence of Herder, Fichte and Neitzsche each in their own way calling for a unified nation that fuelled the fire and gathered the masses behind the notion to “have character and to be German”. (279)

More to the point of generally explaining why Germany followed a path of destruction, Stern explains that proto-Nazi ideology had long been favoured by elites who embraced the notion of eugenics or biologically determining race, a pivotal element in Hitler’s regime. Moreover, Stern claims that German ideology led to Nazism due to the sharing of enemies; enemies of democracy and even liberalism would soon jump on the Nazi bandwagon with no where else to plant their ideas.

We are still left to answer the question of what specifically about Germany allowed for the atrocities witnessed in the First and Second World Wars. We are desperate to avoid the tragedy for occurring again. Though many historians have attempted to define, deconstruct, and determine what happened, we have no definitive answer. Judging by the number of discussion, books and other publications on the matter, it would seem that the human mind is not well equipped to accept indefinite or unanswered questions. We can learn from the past, however, if by witnessing the horrors of war, that some things cannot be explained away.

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Amanda von Argyriadis is a second year PhD student at George Mason University in Fairfax, Virginia. She holds a BSFS in Foreign Service from Georgetown University and an MA in Early Modern European history from George Mason University. Her current work reflects a blend of studies, with a major in American cultural history and a minor in European cultural history. Both areas of study are based in the Twentieth century, with an emphasis on immigration topics.