Historian
Norman Goda has encountered more than one surprise
when examining recently declassified documents dating
back to before the outbreak of World War II.
He
found the paracodeine capsules of Adolf Hitler’s
trusted lieutenant, Hermann Goering. The counterfeit
British pounds produced by German forgers to disrupt
England’s wartime economy. And there is evidence
that as early as March of 1942, Allied intelligence
organizations may have been aware of the Third Reich’s
plans to murder all European Jews.
Goda
is among a number of scholars at Ohio University navigating
their way through never-before-seen files and records
that challenge the way historians treat topics ranging
from American recruitment of Nazi war criminals for
espionage missions against the Soviet Union at the
close of World War II to Communist domination of Eastern
Europe in the aftermath of the conflict.
Powerful
political and legal forces, such as the collapse of
the Soviet Union and the need for government agencies
of the United States to comply with the Nazi War Crimes
Disclosure Act, have created new frontiers for historical
exploration. Researchers such as Goda find themselves
in the enviable position of being among the first
to delve into aspects of the historical record that
only now are coming to light.
The
work not only could satisfy curiosity and add to the
body of historical knowledge. The material also promises
to ignite spirited debate on what we know of the past
— or, at least, what we think we know of how
events unfolded.
Germany
Declassified
Goda
began his exploration of newly declassified documents
in his role as consultant to The Nazi War Crimes and
Japanese Imperial Government Records Interagency Working
Group. The task force, appointed by President Bill
Clinton in 1998, reviews and declassifies millions
of documents relating to German and Japanese war crimes
found in such agencies as the Federal Bureau of Investigation,
the Central Intelligence Agency, the U.S. Army, and
the Department of State.
Packing
a presidential appointment, top-secret clearance,
and expert status on Nazi Germany, Goda routinely
travels to Washington, D.C., and the National Archives.
There he assesses the relevance of records, files,
and documents to the declassification effort required
to bring U.S. agencies into compliance with the Disclosure
Act. It’s a daunting task.
“The
universe of documents created by World War II is tremendous.
It includes millions and millions of documents,”
he says. “The first thing you have to figure
out when you find a document that is interesting is
whether it’s really new. Maybe there was a copy
of the same document that was made available 20 or
30 years ago that I just may not have seen.”
Goda,
who has been working on the project since 2000, acknowledges
that surveying sources previously untouched is a “thrill,”
but he is measured in his enthusiasm. “You can’t
know everything,” he says. “You can’t
have seen everything and you need to know where to
look for another possible copy.”
The
historian has found FBI files containing interrogation
reports by British intelligence of leading Gestapo
and SS figures, some of which shed light on war crimes
investigations. He checked the documents against tribunal
files and U.S. Army records and learned that some
of the material had never been released.
CIA
records also tend to be originals. The intelligence
agency is handing over hundreds of so-called “name”
files that chronicle the movements, descriptions,
and careers of former German military and secret police
officers.
“It’s
material that generates originally with the CIA, and
since the CIA is not in the habit of turning over
records in general, you know that the stuff is new,”
he explains.
The
process has produced significant findings for Goda
and his colleagues. In the spring of 2001, the Interagency
Work Group captured headlines when it assisted in
the reclassification of 20 CIA files on Adolf Hitler,
Adolf Eichmann, Heinrich Mueller, and other officials
of the Third Reich.
More
recently, Goda and his colleagues uncovered references
to a dispatch from a Chilean diplomat in Prague, which
was removed from a diplomatic pouch and examined by
British and American intelligence relatively early
in the war. The contents of the document reveal that
the Allies were in possession of evidence as early
as the spring of 1942 of Germany’s ultimate
intent to murder all European Jews.
This
is especially poignant material for Goda and other
American Jews whose families emigrated to the United
States from eastern Europe in the early 20th century
to escape the Nazi onslaught. Those remaining died
at the hands of the kind of war criminals Goda now
encounters in the files and records he examines in
the nation’s capital.
One
such figure is SS Major Wilhelm Hoettl. Linked to
the deportation of Hungarian Jews to Auschwitz-Birkenau
in 1944, Hoettl was recruited by the Allies at the
close of hostilities to gather intelligence for the
coming Cold War with the Soviet Union. Contemporary
works, published in the 1980s, assert that highly
placed officials sought war criminals and were willing
to overlook past transgressions in the rush to gain
an advantage over the Russians. Goda sees a very different
picture emerging.
“What
I’m finding is that you’re talking about
lower-level officers who work for American Army Counterintelligence
officers who just got to Europe and found themselves
having to produce intelligence reports,” he
says. “They wound up using people that they
didn’t know and whose pasts they did not know.”
The
600-page CIA file on Hoettl suggests that in some
cases, there is no conspiracy — merely incompetence.
For instance, while one organization was in the process
of hiring the Austrian Nazi, others cut him loose
when they discovered his true identity.
“I
don’t know if that is an argument that would
go over particularly well, but nevertheless, it’s
what I’m finding,” Goda says.
The
revelation could cause debate among former intelligence
officials, government bureaucrats, and competing authors
who have advanced different theories on recruitment
policies.
Hoettl’s
case is just one example of how archival work generates
new perspectives on history. Other research suggests
that former President Ronald Reagan may not have been
insensitive to the German persecution of the Jews,
as some have argued. Reagan received biting critique
in 1985 for dishonoring the memory of death camp survivors
and American servicemen when he visited a German cemetery
in Bitburg that contained the graves of German soldiers
who had served in the Shutzstaffel or SS. Units of
the SS served as guards for concentration camps and
participated in the massacre of U.S. soldiers at Malmedy
in 1944.
New
documents suggest that Reagan authorized a secret
manhunt in South America in pursuit of Nazi war criminals
such as death camp doctor Josef Mengele. The government
aborted the operations at the last moment for a variety
of reasons, including the discovery of Mengele’s
body by West German and Brazilian police officials.
Sometimes
the records and documents can be more stubborn in
giving up their secrets. Goda puts it another way:
“Sometimes a new document will fill in a gap,
but it can often depend upon the question you ask
of the record. What new context does it create for
the existing knowledge on a particular subject?”
Michael
Barnhart, distinguished professor of history at Stony
Brook State University of New York, supports the notion
that the file can speak to the historian even through
what is missing or cannot be found. Barnhart’s
work with Japanese Naval archives revealed that in
the 1950s, the families of former admirals and ranking
naval officers gained access to the records and removed
incriminating references to their relatives. Such
pilfering ultimately produced so-called “authorized”
biographies designed to absolve their families from
post-war scrutiny. Barnhart has found those works
valuable in examining such elements as the relationship
between the Imperial Army and Navy during World War
II.
When
faced with new conclusions, Barnhart joins Goda in
a fundamental response.
“The
first reaction is not to doubt the validity of the
research,” Barnhart says, “but rather
to ask who made the documents available and did they
have an agenda? Is it the whole story?”
Church
And State: The Legacy Of Stalin
There
is definite face value to the bust of Soviet dictator
Josef Stalin in Steven Miner’s office. It speaks
to why someone who knew he wanted to be a historian
as early as high school adopted the study of Mother
Russia and its ruthless leader as a life’s work.
“When
people come in, they say ‘Oh, you are a Russian
historian,’” says Miner. “If I had
a picture of Hitler, even if I were a German historian,
they’d think I was a nut.”
It’s
that reaction — that indifference or temptation
to overlook the magnitude of Stalin’s crimes
— that captures Miner’s interest.
“Why
is Stalin somehow more respectable than Hitler?”
he asks. “He shouldn’t be.”
Miner
has been pursuing tales about the late Russian leader
since leaving his native California and spending his
university days in Great Britain. Early in his professional
career, the quest to know more about the man who some
say brought Russia from the Bolsheviks to the atom
bomb prompted Miner to author Between Churchill
and Stalin, published by the University of North
Carolina Press in 1988. Research for the book, which
documented the formation of the alliance between Britain
and Russia in World War II, produced a discovery that
Miner filed away for future study. Stalin had ruthlessly
persecuted the Russian Orthodox Church prior to the
war, but later supported a religious revival in territories
that had been occupied by the Germans during the invasion
of the Soviet Union.
The
historian believed that Stalin supported re-establishment
of the church to advance certain political goals and
not just for propaganda value or to rouse Soviet nationalism
to meet the challenge of the German invasion. He had
his hypothesis. What he lacked was proof.
Miner
had Russian connections. He’d participated in
historical exchanges prior to the collapse of the
Soviet Union, but when the Communist government fell,
a colleague inside Russia invited him to Moscow to
evaluate archives becoming available to all historians.
He could hardly pass up the opportunity, despite the
somewhat unsettled political circumstances still unfolding
at his destination in summer 1992.
“Honest
to goodness, when I got on that airplane headed to
Russia, I had no idea if there was anyone there to
meet me on the other end,” he remembers. “I
was petrified. I thought, ‘What if nobody is
there?’”
Miner
found on his initial visit and in subsequent trips
that the collapse of the Soviet Union “opened
everything and everything was open.” Walking
past stunned archivists who had no orders to prohibit
visiting historians from viewing requested materials,
he began to pursue his hypothesis. He picked at a
rich vein of information originating from documents
contained in the files maintained by the Council for
the Affairs of the Russian Orthodox Church.
“It
requires a good bit of digging, a bit like panning
for
gold,” Miner says. “One can search for
days or weeks with
rather slim pickings, only suddenly to come upon a
treasure
trove of even a single document that makes one stand
up and
take notice.”
Piecing
together fragments of information from additional
KGB and state archives, he unearthed compelling evidence
that
Stalin orchestrated the reopening of Orthodox churches
and
strategically confined the activity to areas that
German forces
had occupied and subsequently abandoned during the
long
retreat from Russia in 1943 and 1944. Miner also observed
that
Stalin worked in collaboration with the church’s
leadership,
which sought to consolidate its hold on new territories
by eliminating
competing religious interests such as the Greek Revival
Church. State and church combined to outwardly buoy
the war
effort, but secretly connived to consolidate control
over newly
acquired populations.
“A
lot of this stuff was just really gold,” he
recalls. “I would
not let the stuff out of my sight. My first trip there,
I wrote by
hand and I would spend the whole day copying out specific
documents. I literally didn’t go to lunch. I
didn’t even go to the
bathroom. I got there when the archives opened and
I would
leave when they told me to leave.”
The
material had to be compelling because the work was
challenging. In the cold winter months, Miner wore
longunderwear, turtlenecks, and sweaters while confronting
antique microfilm machines with bulbs that flickered
and dimmed without warning. Due to wartime paper shortages
and the habits of Russian bureaucrats, many files
and records contained scrawled notations or minutes
of meetings in the margins — all the way around
the page. While Miner is fluent in the Russian language,
deciphering the handwriting of hurried secretaries
and officials dating back decades was a daunting but
rewarding task.
“Boy,
did I get the proof!” he says, his eyes lighting
up.
Stalin didn’t always rule with such a tight
fist, the documents
suggest. The dictator actually considered factors
such as public
opinion, resistance of populations to Soviet reoccupation,
and
desertion in the Russian army to develop polices and
advance
his agenda.
Still,
notes bulging with evidence don’t necessarily
prove or
disprove a hypothesis. The historian must confront
what author
and professor David Lowenthal once termed “the
sheer pastness
of the past.” Lowenthal’s The Past
is a Foreign Country addresses
the notion that “As the past no longer exists,
no account can
ever be checked against it, but only against other
accounts of
that past; we judge its veracity by its correspondence
with other
reports, not with events themselves.”
That’s
precisely how Miner came to re-examine the role of
a seemingly innocuous bureaucrat he first read about
in the British archives. Peter Smollett was a Soviet
operative who infiltrated the British Ministry of
Information’s Russian division in 1941. Smollett
appeared to be a minor player who provided information
by reviewing BBC scripts, choosing books for course
readings, and approving public speakers, exhibits,
and cultural events. Once Miner began connecting the
Russian use of the church, policy of control, and
subjugation of the Balkans with Smollett’s involvement
with the BBC, the spy’s activities revealed
a more sinister motive. While Smollett’s radio
scripts advanced the idea that Stalin was relaxing
his repression of the church as a gesture of Russian
goodwill, delivery for the region was far from imminent.
In fact, Smollett’s contamination of the BBC
message enabled Stalin’s conquering armies to
take advantage of an initial welcome in order to consolidate
control and set the stage for years of brutal occupation.
Miner realized that the network of espionage and subversion
reached farther than anyone had imagined.
“So
all this stuff that I had looked at in Britain, this
propaganda and the alliance, suddenly took on a whole
new coloration,” he says. “The guy I’d
just thought of as a bureaucrat was a Soviet spy and
I had to go back and look at all the information that
I’d read and re-piece together his activities.”
While
colleagues support Miner’s findings, the historian
anticipates that leadership of the Russian Orthodox
Church may not respond as favorably. Miner’s
research is the focus of Stalin’s Holy War,
published by the University of North Carolina Press
this spring.
Donald
J. Raleigh, professor of history at the University
of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, has offered support
for the value such new perspectives bring to the study
of history. “The opening of the archives and
of the country have provided unprecedented opportunities
to re-evaluate the Soviet experience and to address
topics that heretofore were dealt with in a cursory
or otherwise unsatisfactory fashion,” he writes
in the Russian Review.
The
Rush Of Discovery
It’s
an alluring combination of diligence and discovery
that prompts historians to return time and again to
the archives. In fact, even as Goda helps to complete
a report for Congress in 2004 that summarizes the
declassification effort, he is deep into a new project.
With a colleague, Richard Breitman of American University,
Goda has completed 10 chapters of a work that presents
new stories of Nazi war crimes and re-examines existing
knowledge on the topic.
“You
never know what you’re going to find,”
Goda says. “Right now, I have a draft of a chapter
on how the Chase National Bank helped expropriate
German Jews between 1937 and 1940. The reason I have
the information is that the FBI had sources inside
the bank.”
The
archives still beckon to Miner. He’s already
under contract with Yale University Press to deliver
a work in which he explores the circumstances surrounding
Stalin’s murder of party dissident Sergei Kirov
in 1934. Miner also hopes to produce a history of
the Soviet Union along the lines of James McPherson’s
epic of the American Civil War, Battle Cry of
Freedom. Telling the story that nobody knows
more than fuels Miner’s curiosity. He describes
it as an adrenaline rush that hit him square in the
face one night as he emerged from his labors in a
Russian library.
“I
remember coming out of the Pushkin Archives and walking
down the street and breathing this cold air and thought,
I can’t believe people are paying me to do this.
I’m reading letters that are interesting to
me and that nobody ever thought I should see.’”
For
more information about the Department of History,
visit the Web at http://www-as.phy.ohiou.edu/Departments/History/.
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