The Family as “Best Weapon.” Instrumentalizing German Health Care Discourses in Upper Silesia During the Interwar Period

Introduction

Maternity is the female's way of caring for the state, whose future lies in the strength of its families. The above-mentioned quotes, of Polish and German origin respectively, have this key message in common. This article takes a close look at the border region of Upper Silesia, as it is an area where ethnic boundaries clashed with political uncertainties and territorial claims after the end of World War I. A close-reading approach demonstrates how the idea of the people's body (Volkskörper) was formed rhetorically in administrative and public discourses. Based on unpublished administrative files, it explores the rhetoric of German health care policies concerning maternity and family care and how they aimed at creating the image of an “ill East” in order to underline the importance of a strong German family in this region. An analysis of newspapers and pre-election posters gives further insights into how the public discussions were formed apart from the administrative decision makers. I argue that the anti-Polish or anti-Slavic attitude played a crucial role in German biopolitics in this heterogenous region in all spheres and it abetted the racial politics of the Third Reich: Files from the district health authorities prove that non-German citizens were forced to undergo compulsory sterilization. I contextualize these findings within the frame of the imaginary East and ask about the role the family played in this region that Germany considered as an integral part of its own territory, which thus had to be defended from Slavic impact.

As Silesians identified with a local but not a national identity, this border region gives us particular insights into the interdependencies between the notion of the family and the state. The question of national belonging reached its climax in the Silesian Uprisings in the early 1920s as result of political disputes accompanying the Treaty of Versailles. During the Treaty negotiations, Upper Silesia was first promised to Poland, but politicians like the British prime minister David Lloyd George were concerned about German retaliations regarding this territory that “will be the burning desire of every German” ³ if Poland were to receive the whole region. The quote is insofar telling as it shows the need for incorporation of this region into the German Empire. This is what my contribution will focus on: The corporealizations, that is, the body metaphors centered around the German people in this conflicted border region.

In 1921, a plebiscite was finally held to decide how Silesia would be divided up. However, the participation of the local population was limited as the Allied Forces declared that “regard will be paid to the wishes of the inhabitants as shown by the vote, and to the geographical and economic conditions of the locality.” ⁴ In consequence, the results of the vote could be disregarded, which led to a feeling of injustice among the population.

Poland cannot be seen as a powerful opponent to Germany, since the country was still undergoing massive structural changes due to the fact that it had only recently gained independence in 1918 after 123 years of partition. It faced the challenging process of uniting three parts of the country that had developed very differently during the partition period in terms of health care, education, economy, and industrialization. In terms of politics, the rise of German nationalism and military conflicts with the Soviet Union contrasted with the Polish aim of re-establishing a stable country. Meanwhile, the country was also struggling with numerous social problems, too. In the 1920s, Poland was the European country with the highest birth rate (15.5 per 1,000 inhabitants, Germany: 6.6, Great Britain: 4.4, France. 1.4), ⁵ but it also struggled with high infant mortality. Juristic and medical experts considered the high number of children as a main aggravating factor in the pauperization of the country. Thus, Poland – in contrast to German aspirations of that time – did not aim at a pro-natalist policies. I argue that the unstable position of the newly emerged country was clearly instrumentalized by German rhetoric to underline the image of the disorganized and underdeveloped East.

For this article, I mainly explored archive materials from the State Archive in Opole. Although the character of the sources varies, they allow us to draw conclusions regarding the idea of the family and its meaning for the nation. Comparing the administrative framework and public discussions to the life experiences of individuals, I highlight the entanglement of political, public, and private spheres against the backdrop of a conflicted border region, which contributes new input to the research on the political significance of family in the interwar period. The interdependency between gender issues and nation building is excellently presented in several volumes from various perspectives. ⁶ They emphasize the strategic meaning of gender roles in general and touch upon the issue of family for the respective state, but provide only scant information on the issue of how each country devalued its neighbor. Regarding the politization of female duties in the German East, existing publications clearly focus on the National Socialist notion of women. ⁷ For this reason, I emphasize the earlier times and how the preceding discourses shaped female duties in order to strengthen the government's position in the region. The plebiscite in Upper Silesia itself is also a research topic that has received attention throughout the decades, ⁸ especially with regard to questions around identity, ⁹ while the nexus between nationalism and gender perceptions in the Silesian case is under-researched and appears only in broader analyses on Eastern Europe. ¹⁰

I begin with an examination of German family propaganda as it was presented during the pre-plebiscite times on leaflets, posters, and publications to show that the notion of the German people as an organic entity was popularized at a very early stage in the Weimar Republic and not only during National Socialism. ¹¹ A close-reading approach allows us to draw conclusions on the importance of families for the “national bodies” and how these were represented in terms of rhetoric. Following this, I highlight different political health measures in German Silesia that were connected either directly or indirectly to family planning issues (sexually transmitted diseases, subsequently referred to as STDs, and midwifery policies). The analysis will show how these measures served to spread the narrative of the “ill East” that supposedly threatened the German family and how they cleared the way for more invasive biopolitical measures such as sterilization. Although on a political level, all regulations had to be applied regardless of nationality, the sources give hints that non-German citizens were perceived in a very different way. Both direct and indirect measures aimed at controlling the Silesian society, whose people became the subject of intense discussions among Nazi anthropologists in the late 1930s as they were aware of the special ethnic mixture of the Silesian population. ¹²

The Bleeding Frontier – Body Metaphors and the Importance of a Strong National Family

As Allison Rodriguez emphasizes, Silesia lies at the crossroads of Germanic and Slavic Europe, where the sense of belonging was always rooted in local rather than in national contexts. ¹³ Both Poland and Germany had to promote the idea of Upper Silesia as a “natural part” of the state. Therefore, the times before the Upper Silesian plebiscite are worth a closer look: Pre-election posters, flyers, and leaflets often conveyed gender roles and duties regarding the future of the respective country. German posters often focused on the so-called Volksfamile (the people's family). Voting for Poland would mean an inevitable decrease in the living standard and was a threat to German families (Figure 1). ¹⁴ OPEN IN VIEWER

Finally, the Weimar Republic was supposed to cede important parts of Upper Silesia to Poland. In the cities of Katowice and Opole, where the local populations were predominantly German, people voted for Germany, while people in the counties preferred to remain in Poland. Although the result of Katowice's plebiscite (city and county) opted for Germany (53%), the victorious powers of the war were in disagreement about the solution and attached the eastern part of Silesia to Poland. In Opole, the results of the plebiscite were far clearer (97% voted for Germany) although the county was only 72% Polish or bilingual speakers according to a 1925 census. ¹⁶

In the subsequent years, especially the media focused intensively on the topic of the German East although the actors in the field of foreign politics in Weimar Germany generally tried to prevent conflicts with the Polish state. The early Weimar period was perceived as a period of democratic achievements, ¹⁷ nonetheless the press spread an assaultive tone, which made Germany's supremacy over Poland clear. A German essay from 1922 by Paul Knötel entitled Schlesien, unteilbar, deutsch, preußisch points out a “profound cultural activity” ¹⁸ of the Germans that backed up their historical claim to this region. In the original, the author describes tiefschürfende kulturelle Tätigkeit, which can be translated literally as deeply digging cultural activity, hence a tool to inscribe German culture and traditions into the Silesian cultural memory and body. The roots of the race (völkische Wurzeln) ¹⁹ should not be touched by any other than German culture. Germany considered itself as the defender of European values, which did not apply to Poland under any circumstances as the country and its people operated on a very low cultural level according to German-speaking publications. ²⁰

Blaming the “physicians of Geneva” ²¹ for creating a “crippled economic body” ²² through the partition of a “united organism,” ²³ the rhetoric in political and press texts clearly underlined the importance of the Eastern borderlands: “But in spite of everything, in spite of all new creative power, the loss of possibilities, of forces remains enormous; one of Germany's lungs is paralyzed.” ²⁴ But it was not only about the weakening of the country's own national body but also about creating a strong ethnic counterpart on Polish territories, especially after the plebiscite. The depictions of the German minority in Poland continued the body metaphors, though in this case, the German element had different aims: “East Germanness, in particular, has the task of reawakening respect for the German Volk among its host people (orig. Wirtsvolke, meaning the Poles), through its attitude to life, through its pure essence. ²⁵ The biological metaphor of the Germans intimidating the host was chosen on purpose to underline Germany's power beyond its own national territory that is able to weaken it from inside. All the examples open up a wide field of connotations connecting the topic of national belonging with issues of corporeality (such as national rebirth, pain, diseases, or death) that were later linked to the National Socialist idea of Slavic inferiority.

German Biopolitics in Silesia. Pathologizing the “Other” …

The idea of the underdeveloped East also supported the German stance, which was based on the belief that “the German culture and the Slavic “culturelessness” (orig. Kulturlosigkeit) are opposite to each other.” ²⁶ The devaluation of the Poles was popular, particularly in the health care policies: Justyna Turkowska has underlined how the “ill east” was created in German political and public discourse. Her study focuses on the Posen Province and contextualizes the health care discourses in the late nineteenth century as part of a move to teach, spread and communicate hygienic measures among the population in line with German hegemonial politics of that time. She sheds light on the implied idea that the institutionalization and organization of health care services were providing a way to culture through self-discipline. ²⁷ In the case of STDs, she concludes that “the interpretive power over STDs and their spread means power over sexual practices, over the reproductive processes.” ²⁸ Due to the proximity to Russia and the “moral disposition of the Slavic population,” ²⁹ the Eastern provinces were considered particularly vulnerable. Her findings can be adapted to the Upper Silesian case, too, as the archive documents show continuities of pathologizing the Eastern lands.

Personal and intimate contacts among members of different nationalities are no surprise in a border region but the ideological load associated with these relationships is important to underline. In a letter from the District President to the District Administrator in Opole from 1919 the close link between the rising number of infections and the political situation was made: “The infection of young girls and also of the wealthy population is taking on alarming forms, and the number of wives suffering from a venereal disease, many of whom are infected outside of marriage, is also a danger to their children.” ³⁰ This sentence makes two interesting points: The first is that STDs were no longer a topic that only prostitutes had to deal with, the second explains the link between sexually liberal behavior as a threat to family structures: Indeed, an untreated case of syphilis could be transmitted during birth from the mother to the baby and was often fatal. But there is more to it: As Turkowska argues, monitoring STDS allows us to draw conclusions regarding the biological conditions of the society. ³¹

According to a census on STD infections from 1927, the situation in the German Empire looked as follows (Table 1).

OPEN IN VIEWER

Table 1.

People suffering from an STD per 10,000 inhabitants. ⁷⁸

Berlin	10.9	Königsberg	5.2
Wiesbaden	6.2	Liegnitz	5.1
Stettin	5.6	Oppeln	3.6
Köln	5.6	Kassel	2.8
Frankfurt (Main)	5.3	Münster	2.3

The conclusions that can be drawn for Silesia depend on the reference: The average ratio of ill people per 10,000 inhabitants in the whole German Empire was 4.9 (average for all Prussian districts: 5.0), hence the Opole administrative district is clearly below this average and compared to other parts of the German Empire like Bavaria (3.3) or Württemberg (3.2) the result is slightly higher. However, compared to districts with a high traffic of goods and people like the harbor cities Hamburg (13.8) or Bremen (10.6) the average is significantly lower. What do these numbers tell us? The perception of the local authorities was more drastic than the numbers themselves. One reason why this topic was of such significance surely was the difficult economic situation and the financial burden for the local health system. ³² Due to the 1922 border shifts, the smaller but economically important part of the Upper Silesian industrial region (“Ostoberschlesien”) was assigned to Poland. The less industrialized areas had to deal with austerity measures, also in terms of health care as several claims of medical staff show. ³³ The other and far more important reason are the interferences between states’ interests and sexuality. The notion of protecting the national body determined the discussion: An additional letter to the census on STDs points out that among Polish prostitutes “who cross the borders at night [were] infections from numerous origins.” ³⁴ Also, the Ministry of National Social Welfare (Volkswohlfahrt) became aware of the problem, as shown in a letter to all District Presidents already in late 1919: “Unfortunately, there can be no doubt that venereal diseases increased considerably, not only due to circumstances of the protracted war but also as a consequence of the unfortunate outcome of the war.” ³⁵ This cryptic statement can be understood, first, as a clear disapproval of the loosening relationships between men and women and, second, it shows how the rise of border prostitution was now seen as a threat to the future of the German nation with regard to the ongoing border conflicts. The German-speaking newspapers enforced the negative image of the Polish neighbors, emphasizing the high numbers of prostitutes in the country.

Just compare the conditions of big Polish cities and industrial areas that have more brothels than churches and suffer from unspeakable moral and material penury. Remember that, in Poland, 79 out of every 100 people are illiterate and millions of Jews and Christian proletarians are waiting for the transfer of Upper Silesia to milk it dry and to pull it into the economic, moral and material abyss in which they already live. ³⁶

Although the results of the census are – in terms of numbers and compared to other parts of the Germany – not that alarming, the reactions spread the idea of a threat to health that comes from beyond the Polish frontier and, at the same time, poses a danger to German families. The poster does not only contextualize STDs as something inhuman (with the wording “kill the dragon”, Figure 2), but also promotes the idea that the “poison is dangerous to you and your families.”

OPEN IN VIEWER

Figure 2.

Advertising for the prevention of venereal diseases “Kill The Dragon”. Note. “Tötet den Drachen”, Archiwum Państwowe w Opolu, sygn. 45/2/1547.

… and Strengthening the German Family: Midwifery Policies

Whereas the sphere of non-marital sexuality was pathologized and the German state followed a policy of protection from foreign populations, the sphere of marriage and childbearing was supported by a policy of prophylaxis. It is therefore not astonishing that the district obstetric clinic received the highest amount of the so-called Osthilfe (financial support for the new province of Upper Silesia) in the field of health care (30% of the total budget). ³⁷ Another measure was the establishment of premarital counsels that appeared in the Opole district in 1927. The Preliminary Instructions for the State Marriage Hygiene Office of the Opole Municipal Welfare Office prohibit the distribution of contraceptives and forbade counselors to give information about them – only pronatalist advice was accepted. ³⁸

Another early initiative was the new regulation on midwifery: In order to raise birth rates and at the same time lower infant mortality, midwives were required to work evenly distributed across the districts that had to state their demand for these specialists. Their salary was also to increase significantly. ³⁹ What is at a first glance an appreciation of this profession also bears witness to the male decision-makers’ perspective and prevailing gender roles: The answer of the Opole Regional Council (dated 16.09.1917) reads: “In many spatially extensive districts with few births, the midwives are mostly married (…) and thus are not dependent on the income from the midwifery profession. (…) It is therefore in the benefit of the population, as well as indirectly in that of the midwives, if the minimum rates [the salaries] are not increased beyond what is absolutely necessary.” ⁴⁰ According to the Conditions for the admission of midwifery students to the Provincial Midwifery Institutes and Gynecological Clinics in the Wroclaw and Opole Districts from 1921, a candidate must have a doubtless integrity, be reliable and must not have given birth to an illegitimate child. ⁴¹ The last, strongly underscored requirement can be seen as a relic from the times when women of questionable medical experience were suspected of providing clandestine abortions, but it also implies that female integrity and having an illegitimate child are mutually exclusive. The Conditions… contain no requirements in terms of nationality or language, and even the fee schedule was published in both languages. Yet, in real life, the profession of midwives was deeply influenced by political and racial convictions as the sources show: In 1921, a Society for Polish Midwives was founded in Beuthen/Bytom by a female practitioner and immediately roused the district medical officer's suspicion. The local “Polish organized” (polnischorganisierte) doctor had to explain the aims of this society and to assure that “the club did not want to get involved in the professional practice, it serves to keep Polish-minded (polnischgesinnte) midwives together and to educate them in their mother language.” ⁴² It remains unclear in what ways the society was suspected of influencing the Polish midwives, but this example shows how Polish attempts to institutionalize maternity care in German territories were hindered. Again, the quote also stresses the necessity of being organized (the neologism polnischorganisiert had its analog in deutschorganisiert), which allowed the authorities to control and monitor developments in the field of family care in either the “home” or the “foreign” nation. Since families were seen as Germany's “best weapon” ⁴³ to maintain its position in the borderland, it was important to provide the appropriate political view for young families.

If we compare the role of Polish and German midwives in the Polish-German borderland, we can find remarkable differences in how the profession was perceived: In the Second Polish Republic, infant mortality was very high, as was the number of women who died of childbed fever. The topic of maternal care was an integral part of all medical conferences and professional journals. ⁴⁴ However, it was not until 1926 that a national midwives’ association was formed on Polish territory, which fought for standardization of professional training and higher wages. ⁴⁵ The Polish regulations on the professionalization of midwifery were not very supportive and came into power only in 1928. Education requirements were low, but an important criterion here was Polish citizenship and exemplary conduct of life. Yet, the profession itself was never considered a political tool as it was in German politics. One can conclude that the midwives in the borderlands were not ascribed a special importance: The numbers of midwives constantly increased after 1927 but they were unevenly distributed in the country. Whereas in Warsaw there were 11.3 midwives per 10,000 inhabitants, in Silesia there were only 2.5 per 10,000 inhabitants. ⁴⁶ In 1930, the Association for Midwives in the Polish Republic and the Health Insurance Fund even reinforced the inequality between city and countryside. A three-category-system was made regarding the fees for assistance in deliveries, excluding Warsaw which had its own (the highest) fees (35 Zloty). According to this system, Silesia belonged to the low-cost category (20 Zloty). ⁴⁷

Additionally, self-employed midwives were rarely appreciated by the population. Usually, so-called “grannies” (in Polish, babka, older women who obtained a certain level of knowledge in obstetrics, often connected with alternative medical treatments) assisted during birth. According to Małgorzata Marcysiak, the regional authorities were convinced that “an experienced grandmother can help more than some young, educated miss.” ⁴⁸ The clear devaluation of young women and the profession itself thus supported the illegal work of the grannies, which was highly risky from a medical perspective. The low reputation of midwives came about due to the low education requirements for applicants, as Marcysiak argues. In consequence, the profession was regarded as physical work and thus attracted especially women from the lower social classes. Nurses (who often were in charge of mother and child care too and therefore stood in conflict with midwives) were more appreciated in terms of public opinion and payment. ⁴⁹ Thus, educated Polish midwives found themselves in competition with nurses and local older women whose position and significance for family care were historically rooted. Furthermore, poor salaries and a discriminatory reimbursement system were challenging for Silesian midwives.

Nonetheless, in the year 1922, the German and Polish sides agreed on some collaboration in order to establish a functional health support system for the citizens in the multi-ethnic region. The agreement considered import of medical equipment, drugs, but also border-crossing medical staff, who, it was decided, should not encounter any trouble at border controls. ⁵⁰ A special focus was on midwives who had to cross borders to help their compatriots. Both parties agreed on reciprocal border traffic allowing these specialists to travel freely to and from the territories of the “rival,” ⁵¹ as the Polish Delegation for German-Polish negotiations at the Ministry for Foreign Affairs put it. It seemed that both sides wanted to cooperate, and each saw the need to have its “own” midwives assisting at births in German or Polish families, but German politics, in particular, aggressively constructed a negative image of the neighboring state.

After the partition of Upper Silesia, these conflicts became more frequent and intense: When German women applied for admission into the midwifery schools, their citizenship was emphasized and presented as a main criterion for the candidate's credibility. ⁵² A German attitude (Gesinnung) also was a main argument for those who were beyond the age restrictions. ⁵³ A 34-year old women from Katowice writes to the President of the Opole district: “I have a life-long position in the Katowice Municipal Hospital Department, but I do not intend to stay in Poland, as I am of German origin and would like to be close to my relatives.” ⁵⁴ In the course of time, and particularly after Hitler's rise to power in January 1933, National Socialist convictions did not spare the field of maternity care either: In a letter from 1933, a midwife's husband files a lawsuit against the district medical officer of Hindenburg/Zabrze because – according to the husband – he had falsely accused his wife of infecting newborns with impetigo. ⁵⁵ Instead of elaborating on his counterarguments, the sender aims at discrediting the medical officer on the basis of his origin and political convictions:

In order to destroy my wife completely, in the “Ackermann” case [a Jew filing another lawsuit against the midwife, E.-M. H] he disclosed confidential information that my wife gave him as a midwife (§300 of the Criminal Code) and looked forward to a lawsuit by this sympathetic Polish Ostjude. This proves his Polish friendliness towards Jews and respect for the German midwife. He makes the Upper Silesian German midwives feel his contempt at every opportunity, because he comes from the Rhineland and, in any case, has French racial influence, therefore he is also a Prussian hater. ⁵⁶

Besides an aggressive-sarcastic undertone, the editor of the letter tries to give this case a conspirative subtext in which the medical officer appears as a traitor to the German Nation. His position in the health care system is regarded as influential and only persons with National Socialist beliefs should be able to practice there. Thus, not only the German Empire understood the value of midwives and therefore ensured their economic, social and legal status as long as they were politically reliable, ⁵⁷ but also midwives became more aware of their political meaning and the potential to manipulate situations accordingly.

These changes were noticed on the Polish side and resulted in multiple conflicts in the area of family care: In the Polish part of Silesia, the complicated relations between Poland and Germany also had an influence on Polish midwifery as this complaint made by a Polish midwife's husband shows: “At that time, my wife decided to train as a midwife. Actually, this decision was supported and desired by the local population who wanted to get rid of the local midwife because she was spreading Hakatist ⁵⁸ propaganda.” ⁵⁹ It appears that the wife of the complainant was commuting between the Polish Zebrzydowice and Opole, which additionally caused the German midwife to become suspicious. The husband continues: “However, since the referendum, the management requires a confirmation from the teacher, whom the aforementioned midwife has contacted in order to find out information about our political views.” ⁶⁰ The couple then decided to quit the midwifery training and look for possibilities in Polish territory.

In contrast, German midwives became more aware of their political meaning and their role for the German nation on both sides of the border. Nanna Conti, who was the so-called Reichshebammenführerin (leader of German midwives), was aware of how important it was to send politically reliable midwives to the East. She also encouraged German midwives to help with births in Polish families, not only to keep them “in practice” but also to prevent the assumed “political influence” ⁶¹ of Polish midwives.

German mothers as gatekeepers in Polish territories were also often represented in the German-speaking newspapers and made use of the media as a mouthpiece for their nationalist beliefs: The Kurier published a short article about the Mother Days celebration of the German Women's Aid Association (Hilfsverein deutscher Frauen) in Chorzów. Despite the plebiscite, the city was ceded to Poland because of the pro-Polish result from the district surrounding the city. The feeling of injustice done to the German nation is obvious in this article:

The centerpiece of the Mother's Day celebration was a lecture by Dr. Klitta on “The Mother as the Bearer of the Source of All Being”. In his speech, Dr. Klitta not only emphasized that the purpose of this day was to honor the mother, but also that it was a day of reflection for our entire ethnic group. “Our common mother is the German nationality.” ⁶²

The quote underlines that, especially in the 1930s, the German sense of belonging became an influential master narrative for the local inhabitants. It was also necessary to criticize and reject the Polish state, but not to appear as a subversive power. The pretended loyalty to Poland wascamouflaged. Thus, consideration of the nature of human existence was popular: “A state can be something unorganized, unnatural, even violent, while a nation is always something natural and God-willed.” ⁶³

Creating the “Right” Family. Sterilizations of non-German Citizens

This reference to a higher power and the narrative of injustice served as backdrop for more massive biopolitical measures: With the rise of German National Socialism, topics around childbearing became central for spreading the notion of the superiority of the German race. Especially compulsory sterilization was one of the crucial measures in biopolitics. Especially in the late 1930s, there are plenty of records about the sterilization of non-German citizens that show the interferences of biopolitics in this border region of Upper Silesia: Most of the files detail arrangements for sterilization due to congenital intellectual disability and this criterion was applied in a very loose manner as the case of one Czechoslovak woman living in Ratibor/Racibórz showed: “She is unfriendly and dismissive and seems silly. She studied poorly at school and only reached middle school level […] The fact that she has five illegitimate children from different men shows that the development of ethical concepts and impulses is also retarded.” ⁶⁴ Compared to requests for compulsory sterilizations of men, the moral judgment seems surprising. The authorities also gave her the option of leaving the German territory in order to avoid the sterilization but in the end, the surgery was performed. ⁶⁵ In another case, where a claim of Russian citizenship needed to be verified, the surgery would only be made in case of statelessness. ⁶⁶ This shows that German biopolitics was clearly motivated against neighboring nations and ethnicities such as Polish or Czechoslovak, but was not directed against nations with whom the German Empire was interested in cooperating.

Kamila Uzarczyk states that the Polish government did not intervene since eugenic beliefs were popular at that time in every European country. ⁶⁷ Yet, the explored documents provide insights into the real perception of foreign citizens and show that nationality was a strong determinant factor, whereas in the official statistics about performed sterilizations, there is no remark about citizenship. ⁶⁸ The German authorities were regularly updated on what was written from the Polish perspective. In the archive files, there are rich collections of translated Polish newspaper articles, among others from the Polonia, dated October 5, 1935, where the author reports on the case of a 14-year-old boy who was supposed to inherit a farm but, due to “bad progress in school,” ⁶⁹ was forced to undergo a sterilization procedure. In consequence, the farm was handed over to , a German. One naturally assumes that the newspaper had a clearly anti-German narrative, however, it is important to emphasize the long-term consequences of compulsory sterilizations of non-German citizens: The practice also influenced the agricultural and economic sectors in terms of ethnic predominance and power balance. The replacement of Polish landowners by limiting their procreation possibilities minimized obstacles to further colonial reorganization of territory in the East. ⁷⁰

In 1930, a report on the assembly of the Silesian German Women's Aid Association (Hilfsverein deutscher Frauen) shows that the Saar region was considered a role model in terms of the local national sense of belonging: ⁷¹ “The struggle of the Germans in the Saar […] gave the audience new courage to fight for their nationality, because they saw that Germans in the Saar were also fighting for their most sacred possessions (…) and that our women could also learn a lot from their Saarland sister associations.” ⁷² Similarly to Uzarczyk, Christoph Braß argues in his case study from the German–French border region that racial hygiene intended to reduce “unworthy life” regardless of ethnicity. ⁷³ But an example from his sources shows that the treatment of foreigners was indeed very different: A Polish born woman that had to be sterilized turned out to be stateless but the authorities in the Saar region refrained from the immediate realization of the sterilization and sent her to another institution. ⁷⁴ The Saar authorities thus enforced the surgeries in a less drastic manner. Until the outbreak of the war, over 350,000 people across the entire German Empire were victims of sterilizations. ⁷⁵ For the Saarland, Braß indicates that there were 1,134 surgeries in 1935, 1936, and 1938, ⁷⁶ whereas in the Opole administrative district, 808 such operations were performed only in 1936, as the table below shows (Table 2).

OPEN IN VIEWER

Table 2.

Compulsory sterilization of men and women in upper Silesia (Opole administrative district) in 1936 in total numbers. ⁷⁹

County	Men	Women
Beuten (city)	26	21
Beuthen (district)	35	24
Cosel	25	20
Falkenberg	20	14
Gleiwitz (city)	19	14
Gross Strehlitz	34	11
Grottkau	12	8
Guttentag	9	2
Hindenburg	29	23
Kreuzburg	28	14
Leobschütz	21	22
Neisse (city)	9	8
Neisse (district)	12	13
Neustadt	37	23
Oppeln (city)	22	12
Oppeln (district)	68	41
Ratibor (city)	7	7
Ratibor (district)	18	19
Rosenberg	32	15
Tost-Gleiwitz	18	16
Total	481	327

The results have to be recalculated taking into consideration the different population sizes (Saarland: 800,000, Opole district: 1,500,000): hence the yearly average for the Saarland region was 756, which was just slightly lower than for Opole in 1936. Comparable numbers that allow for a direct comparison are available for the neighboring administrative district of Breslau: From 1933 to 1945, the rate was significantly higher than in the Saarland region in the same period: 7,000 (Breslau) compared to 5,875 (Saarland). ⁷⁷ The numbers lead to the hypothesis that citizens of the Eastern provinces were far more affected by compulsory sterilization.

Conclusion

The cases showed that, in the Silesian border region, the field of maternity care was a highly politicized issue. Indirectly, the topic was omnipresent in the media discourse, which regularly referred to the strength of the Volkskörper. The supposed injustice in terms of territorial claims had to be fought with so-called natural weapons. Incorporation means the inclusion of something as part of a whole, but verbatim it is to unite something into one body. The body metaphors made use of this meaning: Healthy mothers and children guaranteed a strong national body capable of maintaining its position in this heterogeneous region. Therefore, German authorities saw the need to defend the German people's health, which resulted in different health care measures that were protective at first, then supportive and later invasive. Initially, in 1920 the issue of STDs received particular attention because of their dangerous effects on German wives, hence on the family. Depicting the Polish neighbor as unhealthy and lacking of basic hygienic education is an example of how far the anti-Polish propaganda went. Introducing the idea of discipline to German sexual behavior was seen as proof of German cultural supremacy.

For Silesia, the organization of maternity care and midwifery was not only about assuring medical assistance. It was also about having power over the collective and individual body, about controlling society through biopolitical regulations. Unlike the vision of maternity care in the German Empire, the Polish regulations on midwifery were not favorable, neither was the opinion about midwives among the population. The local government did not perceive this profession as a powerful tool in this time and region of conflict. Therefore, there was no powerful Polish counterpart to claim its role in Silesia. At the same time, the few Polish attempts to institutionalize maternity and family care were either discredited or under observation as they would have questioned the German propaganda of the “ill East.”

An important side note is the relationship between opinions of male decision-makers and the issues they decided on. What at first glance appears to be an appreciation and recognition of women's topics always implied an image of gender roles: Both in the case of the German regulations on midwifery and the decisions on sterilization, women were always judged in terms of their moral behavior and their national belonging. The same is true for the Polish regulations on the professionalization of midwifery.

Regarding invasive biopolitical measures, I conclude that it was only on paper that the German administrations did not discriminate against foreign citizens. The documents of different authorities, on the other hand, shed light on discussions and realizations of policies that were clearly influenced by racial or nationalist beliefs. This policy had a directly impact on the biological conditions of society and also influenced the power balance in the economic sector, as the case of the Polish farm owner showed. Eliminating Polish (Slavic) influences in all spheres of life cleared the way for the later expansion to the East.

Notions of family and state interests are always in a close reciprocal relationship. By interpreting and monitoring reproductive issues, authorities maintained power over the collective and the individual body and could adapt their biopolitical measures in order to steer society in the desired direction.