Since the Holocaust, we have paid increasing attention to genocide worldwide. Yet it is wrong to suggest that this form of violence has only constituted a meaningful part of human life following the Second World War.
Cathie Carmichael, Senior Lecturer at the University of East Anglia, tries to “show how hotbeds of nationalism, racism, and developmentalism resulted in devastating manifestations of genocidal ideology.” Carmichael’s quest to dissect famous genocides before the Second World War is the basis of “Genocide Before the Holocaust.” (Yale University Press, 2009)
The book does not live up to expectations. It would have been interesting if Carmichael had attempted to demonstrate the relationship between the emergence of genocidal ideology alongside increased awareness of the usefulness of racism and other forms of organized prejudice as political tools. Instead, Carmichael busies herself with showing how global dignitaries like Henry Morgenthau or famous composers like Modest Mussorgsky viewed the Armenian genocide and anti-Semitism respectively.
Carmichael does not even offer a historical explanation as to why there was relatively less global attention to genocide prior the Holocaust. The scope of the damage of genocide is another topic that isn’t addressed very well in the book. While Carmichael lists destruction of religious buildings and exodus of racial minorities as examples of the aftermath of racially-motivated murders, the overreaching effect on society is not given the treatment it deserves.
Equally disappointing is Carmichael’s lack of discussion of the Great Famine in Ukraine from 1932-1933. Carmichael mentions the Great Famine as something that was the result of Stalin’s transformation of the Soviet economy. Since the main theme of the book focuses on right-wing extremists’ failed experiments of achieving racial purity, one isn’t certain where the Great Famine is supposed to fit in with Carmichael’s narrative.
Carmichael does eloquently address the consequence of the suffering experienced by victims of genocides and how it is passed to their children and grandchildren. She writes,
“Once suffering has passed from one generation to another, it becomes even harder to solve conflicts. Stories that are passed down from generation to generation by word of mouth become part of a group’s lore. They often become distorted and exaggerated with time and treated as received wisdom by group members.”
Unfortunately, Carmichael does little to further illustrate the effects of this generational phenomenon. One has to wonder what she makes of the role of the Armenian Genocide on the present relationship between Turkey and the EU, for example, but the book offers little insight into such matters.
It is, however, commendable that Carmichael should add an entirely new dimension to how we view the Spanish Inquisition today. In her eyes, the Inquisition was partly an attempt of the Spanish Monarch to forge an Empire exclusively belonging to white Spanish citizens of the Catholic faith, and she makes a compelling argument here.
Ultimately, if Carmichael is aiming to provide new insight into how genocidal ideology intensified, she has been unable to deliver the goods. Ukraine’s Great Famine in particular – a much-debated, yet certainly extremely disturbing historical event – deserved a closer look here. One has to wonder if Carmichael is perhaps not entirely neutral on the issue of the Famine, considering her handling of it in the book.