Hate 2.0

By: Francesco Sacca

Hello again my avid readers!

In this week, we are going to be diving into some material that focuses on fascism and some of the historical roots/ideals that it has had in history.

WARNING:

Some of the material within this text may be troubling to some readers, as much of this post pertains to Nazi Germany between the 1940s-50s.

When it comes to the question of gender within fascism, there is a blurred line with what is considered against the ideals of fascism and what is solely ignored. Even today, scholars and historians struggle with defining these borders, especially during the rule of Nazi Germany. An example of this lack of agreement comes from a memorial within the Tiergarten district of Berlin. Specifically, this memorial reveals the difficulties and punishments of homosexual men under the Nazi regime, although, some have argued that it lacks bringing attention to lesbians and transvestites living in the period. While it is true that homosexual relationships between men received more attention from Nazi secret police (Gestapo) due to its illegality, it is important to realize the difficulties that women encountered as their sexual preferences did not fall in line to the social norm (It takes no small amount of courage to make these choices in modern times, one could only imagine the difficulty in attempting to do so in such a unprogressive time and place in human history).

With this is consideration, one must also note the strict parameters that men were subjugated to when it came to day to day life. “hardened masculinity” was one of the pinnacle principles of society within the Nazi regime and those that deviated were either prosecuted or (contradictorily) were so “manly” during their life that they had been permitted certain “feminine” activities.  

Here is a photo of a decorated SS soldier Walter Hauck doing a task that was greatly discriminated against.

Frank

Something that stood out to me in terms of an appealing aspect of fascism beyond ideology is the sense of inclusivity and protection that it offers to people whom belong to (or identify with) the dominant ethno-linguistic nationality. Marhoefer’s exploration of gender nonconformity in Nazi Germany shows that women were targeted by the state and authorities when they presented as masculine (through hairstyle and dress) in public. While this was to enforce gender conformity as part Nazi totalitarianism, Marhoefer also points out that public lesbianism provoked anxieties in neighbours, acquaintances, and state officials. Homosexual and gender non-conforming women where minorities whose identities, while “Aryan” in the eyes of the Nazi worldview, nevertheless conflicted with the majority identity of gender conforming, heterosexual Germans. Thus, the scrutiny and violence of the Nazi state against these groups can be seen as a form of protecting the majority from their fear of the minority.

This desire to seek protection from the minority, or any group that threatens the “nation,” can be seen strongly in the Vice video about the cult of Francisco Franco in contemporary Spain. Several of the people featured in the video spoke of “dangerous groups” whose perceived evil tides need to be stemmed: migrants, sexual minorities, feminists, etc. Here the mental gymnastics of the far right are on full display, such as the differentiation between immigrants and “invaders.” What is interesting about this contemporary example is that the idea Spanish “nation” and the cult of Franco was embraced by people outside of the Spanish ethno-linguistic nation, such as the Dutch Franco-lover Tom and the bar proprietor of Chinese origins. This also emphasizes the extent to which ethno-linguistic nations are constructed.

Megan MacRae

This week, I specifically enjoyed the reading from Laurie Moarhoefer. Typically, when I am asked to study the Nazi regime or other fascist dictators, there is rarely a focus on what these authorities meant for those in the LGBTQ2S+ community. Moarhoefer’s focus on such an issue brings to light yet another outlook on fascism and the attitudes of fascists. 

Moarhoefer makes it clear that although Hitler and his Nazi regime were quite homophobic in the sense that they disagreed with intimate relations between men, there seemed to have been a lack of regulation surrounding intimate relations between women. Moarhoefer approaches the issue by ensuring that the reader is aware of how the term “persecution” was used by the Nazi regime. Specifically, they make it clear that gay men were the subjects of persecution by being the targets of a police program which worked to eradicate male homosexuality. Historians argue that this program did not subject lesbians to the same treatment. Although Nazi Germany did see lesbianism as an issue that plagued society, there was no legal or physical action taken against it. Moarhoefer does touch on the fact that those in the community did use the local police force, the Gestapo, to report lesbianism, but what I find more interesting is the regime’s official neglect of queer women. 

I suppose this may be because I do not have extensive knowledge on the treatment of those in the LGBTQ2S+ community during the Nazi regime, but it does quite suprise me that even though lesbianism was a social issue, it was not one of the regime’s priorities. I had just assumed that Nazi authorities worked to eradicate anyone who did not fit in with their “vision”. This motivates me to learn more about fascist views of homosexuality during the Nazi regime.

Nazism image has always been about the “perfect” race, the German Aryans. In their society, men were to be the perfect mix of courage, recklessness, discipline, and most importantly, good strong soldiers. They were the face and the arm of the empire, fulfilling every orders they were given in the name of the Reich. On the other side, women had the role of the perfect mother and spouse. They were meant to support their husband as well as being a stay-at-home mom that would give birth to many strong Aryan boys. But in an interview with “bloody Walter,” author Thomas Kühne shows us a different side to what a men can do and still keep their reputation intact. It is really surprising that they were able to nurse openly their children and be present in their familial life without being judged negatively on it. In fact, it was a positive to be seen as a caring father. This is certainly intriguing that these kinds of comments were not seen or analyzed before. In such a strict society, legal laws and social conventions are very well known and established. Therefore, there should be more context or more information on it. Instead, it was kept quieter. Maybe while it was a good thing, Nazi authorities were laying this information low so it would not affect the image of emotionless and ruthless soldier that has nothing to fear they enjoyed in the mind of the other countries.

• Louis Lacroix

By Felix Nicol

This week’s readings and videos put into question some of the base assumptions we may have about fascism, as well as exploring the underlying reasons someone might find a sense of belonging in far-right groups. Doctor Miller-Idriss’ presentation gave us a glimpse at the new-age avenues through which youth find themselves involved in different movements. Her explanations of means like clothing providing a somewhat lower barrier of entry helps us understand the increase in younger members of these groups, as was observed in VICE’s video on Spain’s Fascism. It also helps us understand the contradictory nature of a Dutch man’s fanaticism for Spanish rhetoric, as well as the support he receives from his Fascist partners. In this regard, to me, the modern need for brotherhood exhibited by far-right movements seems reminiscent of the camaraderie underlined by Kühne in Nazi Germany. We see that despite ideals of the hardened man, Fascist movements had room for gentler sides of the man, shared with partners (and in the past particularly, fellow soldiers.) Especially in the story of Lieutenant Fritz Farnbacher and Peter, we see the tenderness that could be displayed and went hand in hand with the toughness expected by the regime. 

In the end, the sense of community displayed in these modern far-right groups seem particularly reminiscent of Kühne’s description, one where the revoking of “feminine” traits was felt necessary to distance oneself from homosexuality. In this regard, these groups offer a space where men can show “femininity” under the protection of camaraderie and male toughness.

by Kaileigh La Belle

This week’s readings make room for more nuanced understandings of the political nature of gender, often demonstrating how gender served the fascist state in more ways than simply providing a hegemonic binary of normative and deviant. In particular, Marhoefer’s and Kühne’s respective works highlight how gender simultaneously provided a historically significant, familiar hierarchy and discourse around which fascist states could structure power, yet one that was based on social constructions, enabling the fluidity that Fascist states so often require in practice. 

As previous readings have highlighted, fascism often relies on long-standing discourses about ‘otherness,’ which then becomes the basis for oppressive and violent policy and hierarchy. Marhoefer highlights the essential nature of longstanding discourses on gender in their work on fascist persecution of queerness and gender nonconformity. In one instance, Marhoefer directly references the connections made between historic associations of gender non-conformity and “deception”, which raised suspicions against Ilse Troske. As such, there was little ideologically overhauling required by the state in order to justify its violent persecution of ‘the other.’ Relying on hegemonic ideas about gender enabled fascist states to legitimize themselves, presenting their violence as necessary for the protection of the state, morality, etc. Furthermore, racial anxieties could easily be attached to preexisting suspicions about gender-sexual “otherness,” as is evidenced by the connection made by witnesses regarding Troske’s sexual otherness and supposed “Jewish sexual impropriety.” As such, this reading demonstrated how fascist states can manipulate long-standing discourses on sexuality into violent oppression that upholds not only the gender-sexual hierarchy but a racial one as well (among other hierarchies). Meanwhile, Kühne’s work focuses on the fluidity of gender discourses, namely in how soldierly masculinity embraced ‘feminine’ qualities in certain contexts, noting how the presence of contradiction was justified so long as it ultimately upheld hegemonic discourses or served a functional purpose. This, I feel, reflects the tendency of fascism to embrace contradiction when it serves their interest. The familiarity of gender hierarchies ultimately provided structure to fascist states. This suggests that the reliance on traditional gender ideals could serve as a point of radicalization for those outside of the far-right, who can unfortunately easily hold prejudicial views based on someone’s gender or sexuality. 

Work cited: 

Kühne, Thomas. “Protean masculinity, Hegemonic Masculinity: Soldiers in the Third Reich.” Central European History Vol 51, Issue 3 (September 2018): 390-418.

Marhoefer, Laurie. “Lesbianism, Transvestitism, and the Nazi State: a Microhistory of a Gestapo Investigation, 1939-1943.” The American Historical Review 121: 4 (2016): 1167-1195.

Thomas Kuhne argues that masculinity under the Third Reich was not a simple binary rejection of femininity (men are not women) because conforming to the accepted standard of hard (hegemonic) masculinity opened up a space for the performance of alternative (protean) masculinities. For example, one SS officer “could afford to display seemingly unmanly affection . . . precisely because his male identity was beyond any doubt” (394). In essence, if soldiers adequately performed their masculinity, ‘feminine’ traits and behaviours (like emotion and affection) could be integrated into their identity as (real) men. The existence of the standard allowed for variation. This hegemonic-protean model can also be applied to femininity, as demonstrated by the article by Lopez and Sanchez. They describe how, during the Spanish Civil War, a previously underestimated number of pro-fascist women participated in significant fifth column activities that required them to violate their own conceptions of appropriate behaviour for women. They could do this because they were fighting in order to be properly feminine, to live traditional Catholic lives within the domestic sphere. Thus, the return to hegemonic femininity justified its temporary protean deviation.

Kuhne further argues that gender conformity can be, and can be perceived to be, an outward manifestation of an inward complicity with the principle of solidarity. He states that “what eventually counted, when it came to asserting manliness, was the ability to support the social dynamic of the group” (418). The soldier’s manliness was measured by the extent to which he sublimated his individuality to the collective. The article by Laurie Marhoefer illustrates the reverse of this formulation. She shows how, while gender non-conformity in the Nazi state was not by itself fatal for women, failure to conform to hegemonic representations of femininity (in dress, for example) did open up a space of suspect ambiguity that could be (disastrously) clarified with reference to other factors such as race or politics. Good gender behaviour was rewarded with space for maneuver, while bad gender behaviour could result in the tightening of the noose.