Abstract

Jan Rüger’s first book was a ground-breaking work exploring the cultural dimension to the Anglo-German naval race and he has written widely on relations between the two countries in the age of empire. Thus at first glance Heligoland appears a strange choice of topic for his second major monograph. Heligoland is a small island situated in the southern North Sea, off the coasts of Germany and Denmark. For much of its history it was, as it is today, little known and largely inconsequential. However, Rüger argues that for a period of roughly a century and a half between 1807 and 1954 the island acted as a microcosm for the entire Anglo-German relationship. Thus the book seeks not to be merely a history of a small rock in the North Sea, but a micro-history, exploring the cultural, economic, diplomatic and military history of one of Europe’s most enigmatic relationships.
The book starts with the British capture of Heligoland in 1807 and explores the position the island came to occupy as a point of engagement between Britain and Germany in breach of Napoleon’s Continental System. It goes on to examine the island as a British colonial possession throughout the nineteenth century, and its role in the development of a new German identity. The heart of the book deals with the exchange of the island for Zanzibar in 1890 and the resultant German take over and reconstruction of Heligoland as a naval fortress. The island’s success in this role during the First World War, and the severe limitations it placed on British naval activity in the southern North Sea meant that Heligoland became an important issue in the peace negotiations that followed. The book goes on to explore how the island came to symbolise German defeat, and the steps taken by Hitler to rebuild the Heligoland fortress as both a military base and an icon of Germany. The book concludes with the destruction wreaked by the Allies on the island at the end of the Second World War and its gradual loss of significance in the years that followed.
Heligoland is grounded in really detailed archival research. Rüger has explored the collections in a number of different institutions across the globe and unusually has ranged across thematic boundaries, incorporating materials relating to art, literature and business. The result is a rich tapestry of stories, which come together to give the broader history of the island and its place in the Anglo-German relationship. Rüger frequently takes his micro-history to the most granular level, engaging with the personal stories of the individuals involved. The result is an extremely engaging read; your reviewer particularly enjoyed the chapter on the island in the Napoleonic Wars with accounts of smuggling, spying and intrigue. One issue does, however, appear incongruous in this immersive micro-history of the island, and that is the absence of the Heligolander voices. Rüger manages to build an extremely detailed account of the key events throughout the sweep of the book, but these are invariably stories of what outsiders, be they British or German, did to the island and its inhabitants. It was difficult not to wonder what the islanders made of the various momentous events. This gap may well have been a result of an absence of suitable sources, but the silence is still notable.
The book is a micro-history that seeks to use Heligoland’s place in the middle of the contested ground between British and German spheres of influence to explore the wider relationship. This avowed focus on the small in order to shed new light on the bigger picture is methodologically interesting and works well, particularly in the period from 1890 to 1919. During these years Rüger’s contention that the island was a crucial point of overlap and interconnection between the two empires is undeniable. Outside of this the claim can seem a little strained in places, particularly during the mid-nineteenth century, when Britain, and what would become Germany were focused in very different directions.
Whether or not you fully accept the wider arguments that Rüger is trying to make in relation to the Anglo-German relationship, the book tells a fabulous story, and one which has never been told in this way before. More than this, it is that very rare beast, an academically rigorous and interesting book which is at the same time a joy to read. The nature of the book as a micro-history and Rüger’s focus on stories and individuals give the book almost a hint of historical fiction in places, yet a quick glance at the footnotes reveals its archival grounding. As one would expect from an Oxford University Press book, the volume is superbly produced and includes nearly thirty black and white images which help explore the cultural aspects of the argument. The book will be an excellent addition to the library of any maritime or naval historian and will undoubtedly appeal to an audience well beyond this.
