Professional Documents
Culture Documents
, 2011
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44
The first decades of the 20th century saw a sea change in European politics and
culture, while two world wars altered the shape of the continent for ever. To introduce
a month of coverage on modern Europe, Mark Mazower examines the complex
forces at play during these formative years.
How much really changed in Europe between 1900 and 1945? In some ways, very
little. Even after the second world war ended, much of Europe remained rooted in the
rhythms of country life, and the car had not yet fully supplanted the horse. Class
continued to define the continent's caste system and Europe still ruled much of the
world: the British empire was still going strong in 1945, and decolonisation would not
gain unstoppable momentum until the 1960s. And yet so much did change in those 45
years in the realms of politics, ideas and the role of the state that it is worth
projecting ourselves back to 1900 to appreciate the difference.
At the start of the 20th century, European empires not only ruled much of the world,
but much of the continent itself, too: family dynasties with medieval lineages held
sway from the Arctic Circle to the borders of Sudan, from the Italian Alps to Siberia.
Large landed estates from Spain to the Ukraine testified to the durability of both
aristocratic and peasant ways.
Domestically, the involvement of the average European state was tiny compared with
half a century later. A naval arms race between Germany and Britain worried
pacifists, but there were few professional spies, no air forces, and limited state
involvement in industrial relations or welfare. Child mortality was high but coming
down. Literacy rates were low but rising fast, and public libraries, workingmen's clubs
and middle-class scientific societies testified to the vigour of associational life.
45
Monarchy was the European norm; France was the only republic of any significance.
Democracy in the modern sense was thus entirely a 20th-century achievement. In
1900, universal suffrage was unknown. Civilian politicians and domestic public
opinion fought for influence over the serious business of making war, which remained
in the domain of a tiny upper-class, male, courtly elite the ambassadors and foreign
ministers of great powers who unashamedly determined the fate of Balkan states,
Pacific islands and much of Africa. It was a world that had not yet heard of
Bolshevism or fascism though the inventors of both were already embarked on their
careers. Liberalism in the loose sense with its anticipation of endless progress and
its assumption that European norms were the apogee of civilisation was in the
ascendant.
Despite doubts and storm clouds, confidence and stability went wide and deep.
Working-class solidarity was a harbinger of future struggles, yet loyalty to king and
country still trumped socialist internationalism everywhere when war broke out in
1914. Intellectuals, especially in the central and eastern European empires, hymned
their nation's culture and its past glories. But few were pushing for outright
independence. In Prague, for instance then part of the Austro-Hungarian empire
the Young Czech Tom Marasyk argued for the use of his language in Habsburg
official life rather than the implausible goal of a separate Czech state. Most
nationalists still believed, as the Italian activist Giuseppe Mazzini had half a century
earlier, that they were on the side of peace and international harmony. Few predicted
the bloodshed that took place in the succeeding decades. Nor, despite the common
acceptance of racial science and stereotypes, did Europeans anticipate the mass
murders, deportation and other crimes that would be committed in the name of racial
purity.
World War I
What pushed the continent into war in 1914 was not the fragility of social relations,
ethnic tensions or grand ideological clashes, but the old-fashioned obsession of some
rulers notably Germany's unstable Kaiser Wilhelm II with prestige and honour,
and a general inability to comprehend that the very character of war had changed.
From minor causes great consequences may follow. Once the Habsburg heir, the
Archduke Franz Ferdinand, was shot by a young Bosnian Serb in Sarajevo in the
46
summer of 1914, the logic of alliance pushed all of Europe's major states with the
temporary exception of Italy into action. The crowds cheered, though not for long.
The four years' bloodletting that followed became, as Austrian satirist Karl Kraus
apprehended almost immediately, a laboratory for modern destruction. On the western
front, an entire generation of young men was mown down. To the east, the front was
more fluid, but the war against civilians was far harsher and foreshadowed the
atrocities of the second world war. Innocent villagers were hanged in reprisal for
partisan raids; entire towns were emptied to serve the labour needs of the military
occupiers; hundreds of thousands were forcibly uprooted; and eventually, in Anatolia,
there was genocide. Millions died from malnutrition and disease. Millions more found
themselves stateless.
And so what the philosopher Immanuel Kant had once wanted outlawed war
without limits now became reality, and Europe's great powers turned on one another
with a venom that made the shared culture of the 19th century a distant memory.
Nationalities became a tool of political warfare. The British and French whipped up
Poles and Czechs against the central powers. The Germans bankrolled anti-British
jihad in north Africa and the Middle East (though the results were disappointing).
Kurdish and Armenian bands slaughtered one another in the service of the Ottoman
sultan and the Russian tsar. German and British diplomats both made gestures of
sympathy for Zionism because they believed in the invisible power of international
Jewry.
The losing great powers found that in conjuring the nationalist genie out of the bottle,
they had dug their own political graves, and unemployed Habsburg, Romanov and
Ottoman princelings soon retreated to the casinos, spas and resorts of Europe. Europe
now became a continent of nation-states, and thereby faced for the first time a
problem of minorities. At Paris, in 1919, US president Woodrow Wilson was the
leading figure: a man with only the haziest prior interest in European affairs, but with
an almost godlike sense of his own moral rectitude, he threw his weight behind a
peacetime League of Nations, backed the new nation-states and hoped they would
make Europe more stable and democratic.
47
Economic Crisis
48
The economic dislocation of the interwar years was probably the basic reason why
democratic politics failed. The war had fuelled state indebtedness, and official efforts
to regain creditworthiness often made matters worse. The continent veered between
occasional bouts of hyperinflation and the steady downward pressure on prices caused
by efforts to restore the old 19th-century gold standard. Demand was forced
downwards and unemployment rose. Even before the instability in the US hit the
European banking system, another recessionary influence was evident plummeting
world commodity prices. Grain was particularly affected, and millions of European
peasants faced mounting debt. Across much of central and eastern Europe, large
estates had been broken up after 1918 by new democratic politicians anxious to
appease their peasantries and deflect them from Bolshevism. Good bourgeois politics
now made bad credit risks and the economic health of at least half of Europe was
affected.
Stalin
Meanwhile, Bolshevism, which had struggled through the 1920s, was emerging in the
1930s as a potent alternative model to capitalism for economically backward nations.
In the course of a bitter power struggle after Lenin's death, Joseph Stalin emerged as
the USSR's unquestioned leader. In 1931, he made an accurate prediction: Bolsheviks
had only a decade to turn their country into a major power before war came and
threatened the revolution. This geopolitical pessimism drove every aspect of his
domestic policy. It explains why he insisted on forced industrialisation, even when the
collectivisation of the land and the grain requisitions that accompanied this led
millions to starve.
Thanks to sympathetic foreign commentators, what most Europeans saw was not the
famine, nor the gulag camps, nor the hundreds of thousands shot in the Terror, but
rather the disappearance of unemployment, the emergence of entire new cities in the
Steppe, soaring steel production and the wonders of the Moscow metro.
49
By the mid-1930s, the common culture that Europe's elite had shared only two
decades earlier had become irrelevant. Liberal certainties had dissolved in every
realm: classical economics was under threat from the theories of Maynard Keynes and
other supporters of managed capitalism. Surrealism in art reflected the rise of
psychoanalysis and a new respect for the power of the irrational. In music, the late
romanticism of Bruckner and Mahler had given way to the atonalities of the second
Vienna school. Even in detective fiction, the Victorian rationalism of Sherlock
Holmes was replaced by the seedy, shifting, mercenary world in which Eric Ambler's
decent but hapless heroes found themselves adrift.
Right and left fought in the streets of Berlin and the battlefields of Spain; politics was
now a competition to the death between sharply contrasted visions of social and
political order. Liberal parliamentarism was weakened, it seemed mortally, by the
failure of the League of Nations to guarantee peace, and undermined morally by a
series of shoddy compromises made by the British and French at the expense of
Czechs, Ethiopians and others. Shut away behind tightly guarded borders was the
Soviet Union, preparing for the showdown with capitalism. And newly ascendant in
the heart of the continent was the Third Reich, which within five years of its
establishment overshadowed its fascist ally across the Alps, and attracted nationalists
all over the continent to the seeming dynamism of dictatorship. From Latvia to
Greece, the states of eastern Europe slid towards one-man rule and gave up on the
League, the French and the British. At the 1937 Paris World Fair, where the Spanish
pavilion featured Picasso's Guernica, what people first noticed was the Nazi eagle and
the Soviet hammer and sickle squaring off atop their respective pavilions across the
fountains of the main ceremonial avenue. The Eiffel Tower in the distance between
them already looked like a monument to yesterday's values.
50
51
a massive, decades-long deportation after the war of tens of millions of Czechs and
Poles to certain death in the Arctic wastes of northern Russia. The killing of Jews was
just the start.
The war was therefore fundamentally a German effort to remake Europe in the image
of a fascist future and to consign both democracy and Bolshevism to the past. There
was some resistance but this was not why the effort failed. Most people on the
continent came quickly to dislike Nazi rule, but relatively few were able to do much
about it. Armed resistance was morally inspiring but militarily it did not trouble the
Germans much outside Yugoslavia and the Soviet borderlands, not at least until the
tide of war had turned.
The real reason for the Nazi failure lay in the global balance of forces. Hitler had
vastly overestimated Germany's own might and refused to do what he could have
done to garner European support for his cause. Badly underestimating the Soviet
capacity to resist, he also failed to comprehend the importance of Middle Eastern oil.
Underestimating the resilience of the American economy, borne out of depression by
war spending, he failed to anticipate the costs to the Reich of sustained aerial
bombardment and naval inferiority. By 1942, Germany was running low on food, by
1944 on manpower. Europe alone, even united, could probably not have withstood the
combined global resources of the US, the USSR and the British empire. Germany
alone in Europe could do even less.
But resources were not the whole story; human courage and resilience played a role,
too. The epic struggle between Nazism and Bolshevism could easily have gone the
other way, especially in the winter of 1941 when German guns could be heard in
Moscow. The Soviet front was where the overwhelming majority of the war's military
and civilian casualties accumulated, where the fighting was most brutal and the
ideological stakes highest. Badly burned by its defeat in 1940, the British army stayed
across the Channel until the Americans were ready. Meantime, the Russians resisted
the German forces and fought back. The tide turned at Stalingrad in the winter of
1942-43, but it was not until the Red Army suddenly swept all before it in the summer
of 1944, that it became obvious who would hold the new power in eastern Europe.
From this point on, Germany's defeat was a matter of time. Winston Churchill rushed
52
to Moscow and suggested to Stalin that the best way to avoid misunderstandings was
to agree on separate spheres of influence. Stalin, it turned out, felt the same way.
Separate spheres of influence were indeed established the Russians eventually
getting most of eastern Europe, the Anglo-Americans western Europe, Greece and the
Mediterranean but this did not prevent misunderstandings emerging. In 1945,
Churchill was already planning for a possible war with the USSR, while Stalin was
hoping for a breathing space of 15 to 20 years before the next showdown with the
capitalist west. The one thing uniting them was fear of Germany. How to prevent a
Fourth Reich became the central issue of the cold war: it was what divided the two
sides from 1945 onwards, but it was also what kept them together.
Here was the greatest change of all. When the century had opened, European states
and values ran the international system. Now, under the thumb of two superpowers,
after having bankrupted and bled itself dry in two devastating wars, Europe was no
longer the arbiter of the world's destiny: it had itself become an object. Was this
perhaps why so much talk about Europe as an idea, as a serious political project
started only now, at the very moment that Europe in the old sense ceased to exist? The
end of the European era was the beginning of the road to the European Union.
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