Trauma and Memory Studies

Author(s):  
Karyn Ball

A focus on trauma’s institutional trajectory in literary and cultural theory serves to narrow the transnational and multidirectional scope of memory studies. While Sigmund Freud’s attempt in Beyond the Pleasure Principle to define trauma in order to account for World War I veterans’ symptoms might serve as a provisional departure point, the psychological afflictions that haunted American soldiers returning from the Vietnam War reinforced the explanatory value of what came to be called “posttraumatic stress disorder,” which the American Psychiatric Association added to the DSM-III (the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders) in 1980. Multiple dramatic films released in the 1980s about Vietnam conveyed images of the American soldier’s two-fold traumatization by the violence he not only witnessed but also perpetrated along with the ambivalent treatment he received upon his return to a protest-riven nation waking up to the demoralizing realization that US military prowess was neither absolute nor inherently just. Proliferating research and writing about trauma in the late 1980s reflected this juncture as well as the transformative impact of the new social movements whose consciousness-raising efforts inspired a generation of academics to revise secondary and post-secondary literary canons. The publication in 1992 of both Judith Herman’s Trauma and Recovery as well as Shoshana Felman and Dori Laub’s Testimony: Crises of Witnessing; In Literature, Psychoanalysis, and History, along with Cathy Caruth’s editorial compilation entitled Trauma: Explorations in Memory (1995) and collected essays in Unclaimed Experience: Trauma, Narrative, and History (1996), crystallized a moment when trauma was manifestly coming into vogue as an object of inquiry. This trend was reinforced by simultaneous developments in Holocaust studies that included critical acclaim for Claude Lanzmann’s ten-hour documentary Shoah (released in 1985), the opening of the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, DC in 1993, and, that same year, the international success of Stephen Spielberg’s Schindler’s List. Other key events that propelled the popularity of trauma studies in the 1990s included the fall of the Berlin wall, the dissolution of the Soviet Union and South African apartheid governments, and Toni Morrison receiving the 1993 Nobel Prize in Literature for Beloved. The latter additionally bolstered specialization in African American studies as a platform for investigating representations of slavery and its violent afterlives. While some critics fault the 1990s confluence of Holocaust and trauma studies for its Eurocentrism, the research pursued by feminist, multiculturalist, and postcolonial scholars in the same period laid the foundation for increasingly diverse lines of inquiry. Postcolonial criticism in particular has inspired scholarship about the intergenerational aftereffects of civil war, partition, forced migration, and genocide as well as the damage that accrues as settler states continue to marginalize and constrain the indigenous groups they displaced. More recent trauma research has also moved beyond a focus on finite events to examine the compounding strain of the everyday denigrations and aggressions faced by subordinated groups in tandem with long-term persecution and systemically induced precarity. Ultimately, then, the scale of trauma and memory studies has become not only global but also planetary in response to intensifying public anxiety about extinction events and climate change.

Author(s):  
Joshua Kotin

This book is a new account of utopian writing. It examines how eight writers—Henry David Thoreau, W. E. B. Du Bois, Osip and Nadezhda Mandel'shtam, Anna Akhmatova, Wallace Stevens, Ezra Pound, and J. H. Prynne—construct utopias of one within and against modernity's two large-scale attempts to harmonize individual and collective interests: liberalism and communism. The book begins in the United States between the buildup to the Civil War and the end of Jim Crow; continues in the Soviet Union between Stalinism and the late Soviet period; and concludes in England and the United States between World War I and the end of the Cold War. In this way it captures how writers from disparate geopolitical contexts resist state and normative power to construct perfect worlds—for themselves alone. The book contributes to debates about literature and politics, presenting innovative arguments about aesthetic difficulty, personal autonomy, and complicity and dissent. It models a new approach to transnational and comparative scholarship, combining original research in English and Russian to illuminate more than a century and a half of literary and political history.


2011 ◽  
Vol 2 (4) ◽  
pp. 181-187
Author(s):  
Rehan Khan Muhammad

This study investigates the livelihood strategies employed by Afghan refugees residing in Pakistan. These refugees were forced to take refuge in Pakistan after Soviet Union invaded Afghanistan in 1978. Three decades after their migration, and after repeated Pakistani government attempts to resettle them in Afghanistan, scores of Afghan refugees still reside in Pakistan. This paper discusses the evolving relationship between Afghanistan and Pakistan over the years and their respective implications. Researching the various livelihood strategies that Afghan refugees pursued their impact on the Pakistani labor market is discussed. By means of taking a case study of an Afghan refugee woman, this study concludes that there exists a gender dimension in Afghan refugee population. In doing so two developmental concerns are identified i) development projects focused on refugee assistance in Afghanistan and Pakistan ignore the development concerns of the women population ii) countries that provide refuge to victims of war are exposed to a new set of development challenges in addition to their already burdened economy. This paper furthers the academic debate on achieving the development challenge of attaining a stable South Asia, in light of the AfPak strategy initiated by President Obama in 2010, and reflects on potential areas for policy making for Pakistan, Afghanistan and the United States.


2008 ◽  
Vol 41 (4) ◽  
pp. 555-567 ◽  
Author(s):  
Gerhard L. Weinberg

At the end of World War II, vast quantities of German documents had fallen into the hands of the Allies either during hostilities or in the immediately following weeks. Something will be said near the end of this report about the archives captured or seized by the Soviet Union; the emphasis here will be on those that came into the possession of the Western Allies. The United States and Great Britain made agreements for joint control and exploitation, of which the most important was the Bissell-Sinclair agreement named for the intelligence chiefs who signed it. The German naval, foreign office, and chancellery archives were to be physically located in England, while the military, Nazi Party, and related files were to come to the United States. Each of the two countries was to be represented at the site of the other's holdings, have access to the files, and play a role in decisions about their fate. The bulk of those German records that came to the United States were deposited in a section of a World War I torpedo factory in Alexandria, Virginia, which had been made into the temporary holding center for the World War II records of the American army and American theater commands. In accordance with the admonition to turn swords into plowshares, the building is now an artists' boutique.


2019 ◽  
pp. 231-252
Author(s):  
Anand Toprani

This chapter places oil at the center of the Third Reich’s plans for the economic exploitation of the Soviet Union. It begins by reviewing Germany’s preoccupation with the Caucasian oilfields during World War I. The chapter then considers the strategic context behind Germany’s decision to launch Operation Barbarossa in 1941. It moves on to review technical details of seizing and rehabilitating the Soviet oilfields. Time was running out for the Germans, however—their supply position was already tenuous by the spring of 1941, and by the autumn Germany had burned through its entire operational reserve even as the German war plan against the Soviet Union began to stall. The failure of Operation Barbarossa ultimately doomed the German war effort, since the Third Reich lacked the means to destroy the Soviet Union before the entry of the United States into the war tipped the scales irrevocably against Germany.


2014 ◽  
Vol 22 (1) ◽  
pp. 13-36 ◽  
Author(s):  
Susan Grant ◽  
Alice Fisher Fellow

Russian and Soviet nurse refugees faced myriad challenges attempting to become registered nurses in North America and elsewhere after the World War II. By drawing primarily on International Council of Nurses refugee files, a picture can be pieced together of the fate that befell many of those women who left Russia and later the Soviet Union because of revolution and war in the years after 1917. The history of first (after World War I) and second (after World War II) wave émigré nurses, integrated into the broader historical narrative, reveals that professional identity was just as important to these women as national identity. This became especially so after World War II, when Russian and Soviet refugee nurses resettled in the West. Individual accounts become interwoven on an international canvas that brings together a wide range of personal experiences from women based in Russia, the Soviet Union, China, Yugoslavia, Canada, the United States, and elsewhere. The commonality of experience among Russian nurses as they attempted to establish their professional identities highlights, through the prism of Russia, the importance of the history of the displaced nurse experience in the wider context of international migration history.


Author(s):  
Landon R. Y. Storrs

The second Red Scare refers to the fear of communism that permeated American politics, culture, and society from the late 1940s through the 1950s, during the opening phases of the Cold War with the Soviet Union. This episode of political repression lasted longer and was more pervasive than the Red Scare that followed the Bolshevik Revolution and World War I. Popularly known as “McCarthyism” after Senator Joseph McCarthy (R-Wisconsin), who made himself famous in 1950 by claiming that large numbers of Communists had infiltrated the U.S. State Department, the second Red Scare predated and outlasted McCarthy, and its machinery far exceeded the reach of a single maverick politician. Nonetheless, “McCarthyism” became the label for the tactic of undermining political opponents by making unsubstantiated attacks on their loyalty to the United States. The initial infrastructure for waging war on domestic communism was built during the first Red Scare, with the creation of an antiradicalism division within the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) and the emergence of a network of private “patriotic” organizations. With capitalism’s crisis during the Great Depression, the Communist Party grew in numbers and influence, and President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s New Deal program expanded the federal government’s role in providing economic security. The anticommunist network expanded as well, most notably with the 1938 formation of the Special House Committee to Investigate Un-American Activities, which in 1945 became the permanent House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC). Other key congressional investigation committees were the Senate Internal Security Subcommittee and McCarthy’s Permanent Subcommittee on Investigations. Members of these committees and their staff cooperated with the FBI to identify and pursue alleged subversives. The federal employee loyalty program, formalized in 1947 by President Harry Truman in response to right-wing allegations that his administration harbored Communist spies, soon was imitated by local and state governments as well as private employers. As the Soviets’ development of nuclear capability, a series of espionage cases, and the Korean War enhanced the credibility of anticommunists, the Red Scare metastasized from the arena of government employment into labor unions, higher education, the professions, the media, and party politics at all levels. The second Red Scare did not involve pogroms or gulags, but the fear of unemployment was a powerful tool for stifling criticism of the status quo, whether in economic policy or social relations. Ostensibly seeking to protect democracy by eliminating communism from American life, anticommunist crusaders ironically undermined democracy by suppressing the expression of dissent. Debates over the second Red Scare remain lively because they resonate with ongoing struggles to reconcile Americans’ desires for security and liberty.


Author(s):  
Anand Toprani

During the first half of the twentieth century, a lack of oil constrained Britain and Germany from exerting their economic and military power independently. Having fought World War I with oil imported from the United States, Britain was determined to avoid relying upon another great power for its energy needs ever again. Even before the war had ended, Whitehall began implementing a strategy of developing alternative sources of oil under British control. Britain’s key supplier would be the Middle East—already a region of vital importance to the British Empire, but one whose oil potential was still unproven. There turned out to be plenty of oil in the Middle East, but Italian hostility after 1935 threatened British transit through the Mediterranean. As war loomed in 1939, Britain’s quest for independence from the United States was a failure. Germany was in an even worse position than Britain. The Third Reich went to war dependent on petroleum synthesized from coal, meager domestic crude oil production, and overland imports—primarily from Romania. German leaders were confident, however, that they had sufficient oil to fight a series of short, localized campaigns that would deliver to them the mastery of Europe. Their plan derailed following Germany’s swift victory over France, when Britain refused to make peace. This left Germany responsible for satisfying Europe’s oil requirements while cut off from world markets. A looming energy crisis in Axis Europe, an absence of strategic alternatives, and ideological imperatives all compelled Germany to invade the Soviet Union in 1941—a decision that ultimately sealed its fate.


Author(s):  
Karim Elkady

Since the 1830s, Egyptian regimes have sought US governmental support to assist Egypt in gaining its independence and enable it to act freely in the region. Because historically the United States had no territorial interests in Egypt, Egyptian leaders solicited this strategic connection as potentially a leverage first against the Ottoman Empire, France, and England from the 1830s to World War I, then later against the British military occupation until 1954, and finally against Israel’s occupation of Sinai from 1967 to 1973. Egypt also courted US assistance to support its regional ambitions, to assume leadership of the Arab World, and to stabilize the Middle East. Later, the economic and financial challenges that Egypt has faced in its recent history have led it to request and rely on US military and economic aid. US interests in Egypt have shifted during their relationship. Initially the United States was interested in trade and protection of private US citizens, especially its Protestant missionaries. But after World War II and the rise of the United States to a position of global leadership, US motives changed. Due to US interests in Persian Gulf oil, its commitment to defend Israel, and its interest in protecting Egypt against the control of hostile powers, the United States became more invested in securing Egypt’s strategic location and utilizing its regional political weight. The United States became involved in securing Egypt from Axis invasions during World War II and in containing Soviet attempts to lock Egypt into an alliance with Moscow. After a period of tense relations from the 1950s to the early 1970s, Egypt and the United States reached a rapprochement in 1974. From that time on, the Egyptian–US strategic partnership emerged, especially after the Camp David Accords, to protect the region from the Soviet Union, the Islamic Republic of Iran, and Iraq under Saddam Hussein, and then to contain the rise of terrorism.


Author(s):  
David P. Fields

The United States and the Kingdom of Joseon (Korea) established formal diplomatic relations after signing a “Treaty of Peace, Commerce, Amity, and Navigation” in 1882. Relations between the two states were not close and the United States closed its legation in 1905 following the Japanese annexation of Korea subsequent to the Russo-Japanese War. No formal relations existed for the following forty-four years, but American interest in Korea grew following the 1907 Pyongyang Revival and the rapid growth of Christianity there. Activists in the Korean Independence movement kept the issue of Korea alive in the United States, especially during World War I and World War II, and pressured the American government to support the re-emergence of an independent Korea. Their activism, as well as a distrust of the Soviet Union, was among the factors that spurred the United States to suggest the joint occupation of the Korean peninsula in 1945, which subsequently led to the creation of the Republic of Korea (ROK) in the American zone and the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (DPRK) in the Soviet zone. The United States withdrew from the ROK in 1948 only to return in 1950 to thwart the DPRK’s attempt to reunite the peninsula by force during the Korean War. The war ended in stalemate, with an armistice agreement in 1953. In the same year the United States and the ROK signed a military alliance and American forces have remained on the peninsula ever since. While the United States has enjoyed close political and security relations with the ROK, formal diplomatic relations have never been established between the United States and the DPRK, and the relationship between the two has been marked by increasing tensions over the latter’s nuclear program since the early 1990s.


Author(s):  
Stuart Blume

Organised efforts to prevent the spread of infectious diseases through mass vaccination began slowly. By World War I, although successes in saving soldiers’ lives offered encouragement, vaccination practices differed from country to country. In 1945, amid the rapid post-war spread of tuberculosis, preventive vaccination was deemed a necessary ‘technological fix’. During the Cold War period, technical cooperation coexisted with ideological rivalry. Although the Soviet Union and the United States supported vaccination for different reasons, they successfully cooperated on the WHO smallpox eradication programme beginning in 1965. Out of this grew the EPI, and disputes between supporters of ‘vertical’ and ‘horizontal’ approaches emerged. In recent decades new vaccine production has become a major driver of market growth for the pharmaceutical industry. New forms of collaboration between public and private sectors (such as public-private partnerships) have been crafted, whilst the global introduction of new vaccines is supported by the GAVI Alliance. However, at a time of shrinking health care budgets the wisdom of disease eradication targets is contested, and parents everywhere are becoming more critical.


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