Bloodlands: Europe Between Hitler and Stalin

Chapter 11 details Stalinist antisemitism in the Soviet Union, focusing particularly on the post-World War II period. The chapter begins with the assassination of Solomon Mikhoels in January 1948, a prominent Soviet Jewish figure, signaling a shift towards more overt antisemitic policies under Stalin. This act was not just an isolated incident but part of a broader campaign to suppress Jewish identity and culture within the Soviet Union, as well as to manipulate national narratives around World War II and the Holocaust.

Mikhoels, a revered director of the Moscow Yiddish Theater and chairman of the Jewish Anti-Fascist Committee, was murdered under the guise of an accident, a clear indication that Stalin’s regime was willing to eliminate influential Jewish figures who could challenge or contradict the official state narratives. This murder underscored the irony and tragedy of Soviet Jews, who, after suffering immensely under Nazi occupation, found themselves targeted by their own government.

The chapter contextualizes Mikhoels’s assassination within the larger framework of Stalin’s purges and the suppression of Jewish cultural and historical recognition. The Soviet Union, under Stalin, sought to erase or heavily alter the historical record of the Jewish experience during World War II, minimizing their suffering and contributions to the Soviet war effort. This revisionism served multiple purposes: it aligned with Stalin’s broader efforts to control historical narratives, it helped marginalize Jewish communities within the Soviet Union, and it attempted to prevent any form of Jewish nationalism or identity from challenging the Soviet state.

The text explores how Stalin’s policies towards Jews changed over time, reflecting his increasing paranoia and the regime’s shifting ideological needs. Initially, Jewish cultural figures like Mikhoels were utilized to garner international support during the war, but as the geopolitical context evolved, Stalin perceived the Jewish population—and particularly its intelligentsia—as a potential threat to his authority and to the Soviet Union’s homogeneous identity. The suppression of Jewish voices and the erasure of the Holocaust from Soviet history were part of a broader strategy to rewrite the past and to solidify a national narrative that centered on Russian heroism and sacrifice.

The chapter also touches on the broader implications of Stalinist antisemitism, noting how it contributed to a culture of fear and silence, further isolating Soviet Jews, and complicating the post-war recovery. The regime’s antisemitic actions were not only a betrayal of the Soviet Union’s own citizens but also a grim reflection of how totalitarian governments manipulate history and identity to maintain power.

The Conclusion presents a reflective examination of the human cost of totalitarian regimes, specifically focusing on the atrocities committed by Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union. The narrative begins with the personalization of the victims, recounting the stories of individuals like Jözef Sobolewski, Stanislaw Wyganowski, Adam Solski, and Tania Savicheva, whose lives and deaths illustrate the profound human suffering caused by these regimes. These individuals, among millions, became the unnamed casualties of a brutal historical epoch that saw the murder of over 14 million people in the Bloodlands between 1933 and 1945.

The chapter examines the mechanics and philosophy behind the mass murders conducted by both regimes, arguing that they were not only acts of political repression but also deeply ingrained in the ideologies and economic strategies of the time. The Soviet Union’s political famines, the Great Terror, and the execution of the Polish intelligentsia are discussed alongside Nazi Germany’s starvation policies, the Holocaust, and the extermination of Jews and other perceived enemies. These actions are framed within the broader historical context of the Bloodlands—a region that bore the brunt of both Soviet and Nazi terror.

The narrative challenges the concept of totalitarianism as a catch-all explanation for these atrocities, emphasizing instead the specific historical, ideological, and economic motivations that drove these regimes to commit mass murder. It critiques Hannah Arendt’s notion of the banality of evil and the dehumanization of victims, proposing a more nuanced understanding of the perpetrators as individuals deeply embedded in a specific ideological and moral framework.

The chapter also reflects on the post-war memory and historiography of these events, critiquing the competitive victimhood and martyrdom that often characterizes national memories. It warns against the moral dangers of identifying too closely with victims to the exclusion of understanding the complex historical realities that produced the perpetrators. It argues for a historical reckoning that acknowledges the individual humanity of each victim, rather than subsuming them into abstract numbers or national narratives.

Snyder reflects on the evolving nature of history and his role as a historian. He discusses the inception of Bloodlands, driven by a realization during conversations in Vienna that a comprehensive examination of the murder of 14 million people in Europe between 1933 and 1945 was necessary. Snyder aimed to bridge the gap between Western perceptions of the Holocaust and Soviet atrocities and the realities in Eastern Europe, where these tragedies unfolded. He highlights the challenges of bringing Eastern European perspectives to the forefront, particularly in the context of the Holocaust, which was more expansive and complex than commonly understood in the West.

Snyder also addresses the controversy surrounding comparisons between Nazi and Soviet crimes, emphasizing that his work begins from a place of inclusion rather than direct comparison. He criticizes the taboo against comparison as a hindrance to understanding and argues for the importance of integrating the Holocaust and other mass atrocities into a broader historical narrative. Snyder advocates for history over memory culture, warning against the dangers of forgetting and the trivialization of history. He concludes with personal reflections, tying his experiences and friendships to the broader themes of history, memory, and the pursuit of truth.