Abstract
The past is its own country, but present concerns can help to direct our gaze, and so with this book by Franziska Exeler, Assistant Professor of History at the Free University in Berlin. Vladimir Putin’s weaponization of the Soviet account of World War Two, that of a valorous public, understandably encourages interest in the topic, as, over a longer timescale, does scholarly literature on the comparable issue of public engagement and commitment elsewhere in occupied Europe. The book is exceptionally well-researched, drawing on a range of archives in Belarus as well as archives in Germany, Israel, Poland, Ukraine and the USA, and oral history interviews. It is well-written and favourably priced.
Two major topics are covered, first what the occupied did during the war, and, second, how this was handled. The background was the brutality of Soviet rule in Belarus, both in the area controlled from the Civil War to 1941 and in that only seized from Poland in 1939. Murder, torture, and imprisonment were all commonplace, and everyone knew of the process. The Great Terror in Belarus is usually associated with purges of the political and cultural elites, but most was not from elite groups. Regional party leaders responded to their sense of Moscow’s wishes by asking to be allowed to raise the number of people to be shot or sentenced. Collectivisation had earlier led to a large number of killings. The process of Soviet mass murder was expanded geographically in 1939 and then replaced by the German version. Throughout, Exeler ably traces the subsequent differences between the two parts of Belarus, as well as the plight of particular communities, notably Jews, who, as Exeler points out, had no real individual agency. In contrast, there was a greater range of options for Christians, from co-operation to partisan activity. When the Germans invaded, initial choices were often influenced by prior experience of Soviet rule, but once partisan warfare developed in scale from mid-1942, situational factors were of significance. These included proximity to Germans and partisans, a factor that changed over time. So did a sense of relative success in the war in Belarus and as a whole.
The returning Soviet authorities were not interested in the moral grey zones of occupation and harried those whom they suspected. In turn, there was much apprehension about the Red Army and fear of the return of collectivisation. Opposition to the latter was construed as resistance, and ‘bandits’ were brutally treated. By the end of 1946, resistance had been largely suppressed, although smaller groups continued to be active until the early 1950s. There was also the expulsion of ethnic Poles from western Belarus. Informants kept the remaining population under malign scrutiny, and retribution was visited on those held to have collaborated. Punitive practices, which were applied on a large scale, were riven between ideological imperatives and pragmatic concerns, with cross-currents in each case. As Exeler points out, although the Soviet authorities maintained that the war had been a moral test that did not allow for pragmatic choices, they were willing to accommodate their own pragmatic choices. Meanwhile, psychological and physical torture was frequent applied, and trials continued into the 1960s. Separately, revenge against those who had collaborated continued until the 1950s. The role of civilians in retribution was wider, including informing. As ever Exeler handles the evidence carefully, arguing that whether one defines a letter as a denunciation or as a rightful means to seek justice is contingent on one’s perspective (p. 194). Accounts were also offered by the authorities, notably of a misleading closeness between partisans and civilians (p. 234). A well-researched and impressive work that deserves extensive attention.