POPULARITY
POV Internatioal lancerer hermed et nyt koncept: POVtalks, der er samtaler på circa en halv time om et aktuelt emne. I anledning af 1-års dagen for den russiske invasion af Ukraine har journalist og forlægger Bjarke Larsen en samtale med journalist Jesper Grunwald, også kendt som Taxamanden, om vores evne til – og tilsyneladende behov for – at skabe fjendebilleder og dæmonisere andre mennesker. Og hvad der kan gøres for at ændre det. I forbindelse med Ruslands angreb på Ukraine er det tydeligt, at en forudsætning for, at Putin lykkes med det, har været at dehumanisere ukrainerne. Ellers kunne den russiske præsident ikke få befolkningens opbakning eller få soldaterne til at gå til angreb. Derfor hamrede politikere og tv-kommentatorer løs i tiden op til angrebet den 24. februar – og endnu mere i de 365 dage, der nu er gået. Ukraine skulle ”afnazificeres”. Ukraine havde ikke en selvstændig kultur, men var en korrupt sump af mafiabosser, og det russiske mindretal var i akut fare for at blive udryddet eller fordrevet. Det er det samme mønster, vi har set igen og igen gennem historien. Selvfølgelig mest tydeligt og dramatisk i forbindelse med tyskernes dehumanisering af jøderne, der blev kaldt Untermenchen, undermennesker, og tillagt alle mulige negative egenskaber. Men mønstret var også tydeligt i forbindelse med krigene på Balkan i kølvandet på Jugoslaviens sammenbrud. Serbiske forfattere, journalister og politikere dehumaniserede kroater og kosovo-albanere, og fra kroatisk og kosovo-albansk side skete det samme. I Jugoslavien-tiden var 10 pct. af befolkningen gift på tværs af disse grænser, men denne form for fredelig sameksistens blev nu foragtet, og ikke mindst de blandede ægteskaber kom i klemme og måtte flygte. Folkemordet i Rwanda havde også som forudsætning at hutuerne dehumaniserede tutsierne – ikke mindst gennem radioen. Vi journalister og forfattere elsker formuleringen om, at ”pennen er stærkere end sværdet” (i hvert fald i det lange løb) og tager det som udtryk for, at dialog og demokrati er stærkere end militær magt. Men historien viser, at pennen er stærkere end sværdet på den måde, at ”pennen” skaber grundlaget for, at ”sværdet” kan dræbe. Bjarke Larsen har en gang formuleret det på den måde, at ”en pen dyppet I had er forudsætningen for, at sværdet kan dræbe.” Heldigvis er der også eksempler på, at det er lykkedes at nedbryde fjendebilleder. Det skete f.eks., da Tyskland blev afnazificeret efter anden verdenskrig – blandt andet ved hjælp af Astrid Lindgrens børnebøger. Og da man i Sydafrika efter afskaffelsen af apartheid nedsatte en freds- og forsoningskommission. Lyt til Jesper Grunwalds og Bjarke Larsens POVtalk her:
If you’re a native-born American, you’re probably familiar with Aunt Jemima (pancake syrup), Uncle Ben (precooked rice), and Rastus (oatmeal)–commercial icons all. They were co-oped in whole or part from stock characters in American minstrel shows, largely because they suggested to white consumers a comforting though bygone hospitality. Aunt Jemima said “You might not have a loving mammy to do your home cookin’, but you can eat as if you did.” I grew up with Aunt Jemima and loved her syrup dearly, so I knew this. But I did not know that a similar tradition of racist commercial icons existed in Imperial Germany. I do now, thanks to David Ciarlo‘s insightful Advertising Empire: Race and Visual Culture in Imperial Germany (Harvard UP, 2011). The Germans had been using images such as the “tobacco moor” to stamp their exotic trade goods since the eighteenth century. But it was only in the 1890s that they began to use the “moor” in mass advertising per se. It was only then, too, that they began to carve out an empire full of “moors” in southwest Africa. David skillfully connects the two phenomenon, showing that the latter tangibly altered the character of the former. The image of Africans in ads went from one that emphasized the exotic to one that stressed the exotic under German domination. Depictions that were almost entirely fanciful became much more concrete. Africans came to represent racial Untermenchen in the service of their German overlords. It was an appealing picture, and one the Germans would–unfortunately–not soon forget. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
If you’re a native-born American, you’re probably familiar with Aunt Jemima (pancake syrup), Uncle Ben (precooked rice), and Rastus (oatmeal)–commercial icons all. They were co-oped in whole or part from stock characters in American minstrel shows, largely because they suggested to white consumers a comforting though bygone hospitality. Aunt Jemima said “You might not have a loving mammy to do your home cookin’, but you can eat as if you did.” I grew up with Aunt Jemima and loved her syrup dearly, so I knew this. But I did not know that a similar tradition of racist commercial icons existed in Imperial Germany. I do now, thanks to David Ciarlo‘s insightful Advertising Empire: Race and Visual Culture in Imperial Germany (Harvard UP, 2011). The Germans had been using images such as the “tobacco moor” to stamp their exotic trade goods since the eighteenth century. But it was only in the 1890s that they began to use the “moor” in mass advertising per se. It was only then, too, that they began to carve out an empire full of “moors” in southwest Africa. David skillfully connects the two phenomenon, showing that the latter tangibly altered the character of the former. The image of Africans in ads went from one that emphasized the exotic to one that stressed the exotic under German domination. Depictions that were almost entirely fanciful became much more concrete. Africans came to represent racial Untermenchen in the service of their German overlords. It was an appealing picture, and one the Germans would–unfortunately–not soon forget. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
If you’re a native-born American, you’re probably familiar with Aunt Jemima (pancake syrup), Uncle Ben (precooked rice), and Rastus (oatmeal)–commercial icons all. They were co-oped in whole or part from stock characters in American minstrel shows, largely because they suggested to white consumers a comforting though bygone hospitality. Aunt Jemima said “You might not have a loving mammy to do your home cookin’, but you can eat as if you did.” I grew up with Aunt Jemima and loved her syrup dearly, so I knew this. But I did not know that a similar tradition of racist commercial icons existed in Imperial Germany. I do now, thanks to David Ciarlo‘s insightful Advertising Empire: Race and Visual Culture in Imperial Germany (Harvard UP, 2011). The Germans had been using images such as the “tobacco moor” to stamp their exotic trade goods since the eighteenth century. But it was only in the 1890s that they began to use the “moor” in mass advertising per se. It was only then, too, that they began to carve out an empire full of “moors” in southwest Africa. David skillfully connects the two phenomenon, showing that the latter tangibly altered the character of the former. The image of Africans in ads went from one that emphasized the exotic to one that stressed the exotic under German domination. Depictions that were almost entirely fanciful became much more concrete. Africans came to represent racial Untermenchen in the service of their German overlords. It was an appealing picture, and one the Germans would–unfortunately–not soon forget. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
If you’re a native-born American, you’re probably familiar with Aunt Jemima (pancake syrup), Uncle Ben (precooked rice), and Rastus (oatmeal)–commercial icons all. They were co-oped in whole or part from stock characters in American minstrel shows, largely because they suggested to white consumers a comforting though bygone hospitality. Aunt Jemima said “You might not have a loving mammy to do your home cookin’, but you can eat as if you did.” I grew up with Aunt Jemima and loved her syrup dearly, so I knew this. But I did not know that a similar tradition of racist commercial icons existed in Imperial Germany. I do now, thanks to David Ciarlo‘s insightful Advertising Empire: Race and Visual Culture in Imperial Germany (Harvard UP, 2011). The Germans had been using images such as the “tobacco moor” to stamp their exotic trade goods since the eighteenth century. But it was only in the 1890s that they began to use the “moor” in mass advertising per se. It was only then, too, that they began to carve out an empire full of “moors” in southwest Africa. David skillfully connects the two phenomenon, showing that the latter tangibly altered the character of the former. The image of Africans in ads went from one that emphasized the exotic to one that stressed the exotic under German domination. Depictions that were almost entirely fanciful became much more concrete. Africans came to represent racial Untermenchen in the service of their German overlords. It was an appealing picture, and one the Germans would–unfortunately–not soon forget. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
If you’re a native-born American, you’re probably familiar with Aunt Jemima (pancake syrup), Uncle Ben (precooked rice), and Rastus (oatmeal)–commercial icons all. They were co-oped in whole or part from stock characters in American minstrel shows, largely because they suggested to white consumers a comforting though bygone hospitality. Aunt Jemima said “You might not have a loving mammy to do your home cookin’, but you can eat as if you did.” I grew up with Aunt Jemima and loved her syrup dearly, so I knew this. But I did not know that a similar tradition of racist commercial icons existed in Imperial Germany. I do now, thanks to David Ciarlo‘s insightful Advertising Empire: Race and Visual Culture in Imperial Germany (Harvard UP, 2011). The Germans had been using images such as the “tobacco moor” to stamp their exotic trade goods since the eighteenth century. But it was only in the 1890s that they began to use the “moor” in mass advertising per se. It was only then, too, that they began to carve out an empire full of “moors” in southwest Africa. David skillfully connects the two phenomenon, showing that the latter tangibly altered the character of the former. The image of Africans in ads went from one that emphasized the exotic to one that stressed the exotic under German domination. Depictions that were almost entirely fanciful became much more concrete. Africans came to represent racial Untermenchen in the service of their German overlords. It was an appealing picture, and one the Germans would–unfortunately–not soon forget. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
Scholars argue about whether the Holocaust was unprecedented. It's a difficult question. On the one hand, slaughters litter the pages of history. On the other hand, none of them seem quite as calculated, systematic and horribly efficient as the Nazi murder of the Jews and other “Untermenchen.” One thing, however, is certain: the Holocaust is doubtless the best documented instance of mass murder in world history. The perpetrators were meticulous record keepers, and at the conclusion of the war many of their archives fell into Allied hands. The German record, however, is not the only record of the Holocaust. As Samuel Kassow shows in his moving Who Will Write Our History? Emanuel Ringelblum, the Warsaw Ghetto, and the Oyneg Shabes Archive (Indiana UP, 2007), the victims themselves made an concerted effort to document what was being done to them at the hands of the Nazis. Kassow tells the story of a group of Warsaw-based Jewish activists who built a secret organization–Oyneg Shabes–to collect and archive information about Jewish life (and death) under Nazi rule. Knowing that they would eventually be found out or killed, the members of Oyneg Shabes buried their archives so that they might be found after the war. As it happened, almost all of them were murdered. Yet their brave plan worked: some of the hidden archives were found. And in them we can hear them tell their own story. Thanks to Samuel Kassow for giving them voice in this excellent book. Please become a fan of “New Books in History” on Facebook if you haven't already. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
Scholars argue about whether the Holocaust was unprecedented. It’s a difficult question. On the one hand, slaughters litter the pages of history. On the other hand, none of them seem quite as calculated, systematic and horribly efficient as the Nazi murder of the Jews and other “Untermenchen.” One thing, however, is certain: the Holocaust is doubtless the best documented instance of mass murder in world history. The perpetrators were meticulous record keepers, and at the conclusion of the war many of their archives fell into Allied hands. The German record, however, is not the only record of the Holocaust. As Samuel Kassow shows in his moving Who Will Write Our History? Emanuel Ringelblum, the Warsaw Ghetto, and the Oyneg Shabes Archive (Indiana UP, 2007), the victims themselves made an concerted effort to document what was being done to them at the hands of the Nazis. Kassow tells the story of a group of Warsaw-based Jewish activists who built a secret organization–Oyneg Shabes–to collect and archive information about Jewish life (and death) under Nazi rule. Knowing that they would eventually be found out or killed, the members of Oyneg Shabes buried their archives so that they might be found after the war. As it happened, almost all of them were murdered. Yet their brave plan worked: some of the hidden archives were found. And in them we can hear them tell their own story. Thanks to Samuel Kassow for giving them voice in this excellent book. Please become a fan of “New Books in History” on Facebook if you haven’t already. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
Scholars argue about whether the Holocaust was unprecedented. It’s a difficult question. On the one hand, slaughters litter the pages of history. On the other hand, none of them seem quite as calculated, systematic and horribly efficient as the Nazi murder of the Jews and other “Untermenchen.” One thing, however, is certain: the Holocaust is doubtless the best documented instance of mass murder in world history. The perpetrators were meticulous record keepers, and at the conclusion of the war many of their archives fell into Allied hands. The German record, however, is not the only record of the Holocaust. As Samuel Kassow shows in his moving Who Will Write Our History? Emanuel Ringelblum, the Warsaw Ghetto, and the Oyneg Shabes Archive (Indiana UP, 2007), the victims themselves made an concerted effort to document what was being done to them at the hands of the Nazis. Kassow tells the story of a group of Warsaw-based Jewish activists who built a secret organization–Oyneg Shabes–to collect and archive information about Jewish life (and death) under Nazi rule. Knowing that they would eventually be found out or killed, the members of Oyneg Shabes buried their archives so that they might be found after the war. As it happened, almost all of them were murdered. Yet their brave plan worked: some of the hidden archives were found. And in them we can hear them tell their own story. Thanks to Samuel Kassow for giving them voice in this excellent book. Please become a fan of “New Books in History” on Facebook if you haven’t already. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices