By 1943, the German army deployed in the Soviet Union was engaged in a total war with an enemy far superior in material and manpower resources. Recognizing this disparity, German field commands instituted more systematic and conciliatory policies designed to mobilize Soviet resources for the German war effort. Attempts to win over the population changed following German defeat in the Battle of Kursk, however; German policy became more violently coercive. An examination of the policies and actions of three German divisions will demonstrate that the army's shifting conduct was due to its understanding of the reality of total war.

In early June 1939, the German army offered a one-week ‘Summer Course for Officers’ in the Bavarian town of Bad Tölz. Some 120 officers attended and listened to lectures on topics ranging from ‘The World-View of National Socialism’ and ‘Racial and Population Policy’, to ‘Eastern Space’ and ‘The Prevention of the Hereditarily Diseased Offspring’, delivered by various members of the SS and other Nazi institutions, as well as ideologically attuned academics. Included in the course was a visit to Eglfing, site of an Aktion T4 asylum in which mentally disabled Germans were murdered by the state. While several attendees objected to attacks on the Church in their post-conference evaluations, their overall impression was indeed positive and welcoming. As Bryce Sait concludes in his new monograph, such evidence ‘indicated the widespread acceptance of an ideology that viewed humanity in terms of stark biological differences, and which called for the elimination of those deemed racially unfit’ (p. 69). And as Sait makes clear, this 1939 course was not merely a one-off event, but rather fit snugly into what he views as a concerted effort by the German military that began in the 1930s to indoctrinate both its officer corps and rank and file, one that culminated in the predominance of an ‘attitude that saw violence against non-military targets, particularly in the East, who were deemed racially and ideologically alien, as necessary’ (p. 9).

that Motadel presents exhibits a striking form of Orientalism that is quite distinct from usual Western prejudice against “Orientals” as being unreliable, voluptuous and arbitrary. Instead, the Muslims of Nazi imagery, especially those of Turkic descent, are courageous and merciless fighters, driven by relentless loyalty to a cause. Motadel attests rightly that the Germans misinterpreted the importance of religion in the political decision-making of Muslims, which they assumed trumped all ethnic or nationalist considerations. At the end, they turned out to be much less malleable than the Germans had expected. It is striking, though, to what extent the shapers of Nazi Germany’s Islam policy restricted their programmes of training soldiers – giving them room for spiritual care, and providing facilities for the formation of Imams in military units – to a few token elements of Islamic practice, such as dietary rules or respect of prayer times. They sought to form an ideal type of Muslim removed from the context of his ethnic and national origin and cultural heritage – as if all Muslims essentially shared the same values, and as if a universal Islamic movement only needed to be poked to rise up against FrancoBritish dominance. These expectations may have been rooted in a tradition of German Orientalist expertise, itself rooted in philology and interest in normative texts and medieval history – different from the expert knowledge of social scientists and intelligence officers in British and French colonial service, who learned in the field to distinguish, divide and conquer native communities. The scarcity of colonial experience with Muslim populations in Germany may have barred a deeper understanding of Muslim motivations in the twentieth century.

By 1944, the overwhelming majority of the German Army had participated in the German war of annihilation in the Soviet Union and historians continue to debate the motivations behind the violence unleashed in the east. Jeff Rutherford offers an important new contribution to this debate through a study of combat and the occupation policies of three frontline infantry divisions. He shows that while Nazi racial ideology provided a legitimizing context in which violence was not only accepted but encouraged, it was the Wehrmacht's adherence to a doctrine of military necessity which is critical in explaining why German soldiers fought as they did. This meant that the German Army would do whatever was necessary to emerge victorious on the battlefield. Periods of brutality were intermixed with conciliation as the army's view and treatment of the civilian population evolved based on its appreciation of the larger context of war in the east.

The latest English translation from the path-breaking German series ‘Das Deutsche Reich und der Zweite Weltkrieg’ examines the German homefront during the Second World War. Part 1 of the book examines the concept of national community (Volksgemeinschaft) and its role in maintaining the German war effort even after the war was clearly lost, while the second half looks at the forced integration into German war society of those deemed to be outside the Volksgemeinschaft. Sven Oliver Müller’s excellent first chapter provides a detailed look at the idea of nationalism and how it was negotiated and understood by both the regime and German society. He persuasively argues that the total war experiences of the First World War ‘not only meant permanent confrontation with the outside world, but in order to maintain the cohesion of the Volksgemeinschaft it also demanded ethnic segregation—whether of national minorities or of Jews—at home’ (p. 22). He concludes by noting that ‘there is much to suggest that the nationalistically justified readiness to use force arose from the heart of German society’ (p. 93).