The Devil in History

enemies that needed to be exposed. Initiating a new onslaught against the Communist elite would have subverted the Great Patriotic War myth.

True, Lenin was not the embodiment of the party bureaucracy. In this respect, Robert Gellately draws fine and necessary distinctions: during the Great Terror, Bolshevism created universal fear among all strata of the population. The Leninist project, as developed by Stalin, meant a continuous aggression of the party-state against all social groups, including the much-acclaimed proletariat and its party. Mass mobilization and fear were not mutually exclusive, and millions of ordinary citizens became involved in the bloody dramaturgy of hysteria and persecution.³⁹ David Priestland correctly emphasizes that the specific dynamics of the Bolshevik regime under Stalin were the result of an ideological context similar to that of Lenin’s years at the helm of the Russian Communist Party. Stalin continually agonized over finding the right combination of “proletarian consciousness as a vital force in history and politics,” science-driven progress, and the vision of a society or world structured according to class origin.⁴⁰

Communism and Fascism shared a similar obsession with continually moving forward to avoid the damning specter of stagnation. Mao once stated that “our revolutions are like battles. After a victory, we must at once put forward a new task. In this way, cadres and the masses will forever be filled with revolutionary fervor instead of conceit.”⁴¹ Eugen Weber proposed a similar diagnosis for Fascism: “The fascist must move forward all the time; but just because precise objectives are lacking he can never stop, and every goal attained is but a stage on the continuous treadmill of the future he claims to construct, of the national destiny he claims to fulfill.”⁴² On the path to permanent transformation, both Communism and Fascism engineered (or, rather, aimed at) the extinction of the individual by inventing equally binding criteria of faith, loyalty, and status crystallized into a master political myth. And, indeed, this defines the religiousness of a collective existence —“Quand on met toutes les ressources de I’esprit, toutes les soumissions de la volonte, toutes les ardeurs du fanatisme au service d’une cause ou d’un etre qui devient le but et le guide des pensees et des actions [When one subjects all resources of the spirit, all the will’s submissions, all the ardors of fanaticism to a cause or a being that becomes the goal and the guide of all thoughts and actions].”⁴³

Both Stalinism and Nazism emphasized the need for social integration and communal belonging through the exclusion of specific others. Historian Richard Overy describes the two regimes as “all holistic dictatorships.” They relied on “creating complicity, just as they operate[d] by isolating and destroying a chosen minority, whose terrorized status confirm[ed] the rational desire of the rest to be included and protected.”⁴⁴ Their legitimacy was based upon a synthesis between coercion and consent. In this sense, totalitarianism was embodied by the masses, who “gave life and direction to it.”⁴⁵ Both the Soviet Union and Germany went through massive social and political tumults in the aftermath of the First World War. By the time Stalin and Hitler came into power there was indeed “a wide popular consensus for a politics without conflict and a society without divisions.”⁴⁶ In reestablishing and re-creating social order, these states proved to be both repressive and paternalistic. Society was structured according to categories such as class, race, nationality, and gender, each with specific consequences on the inclusion-exclusion axis. Both the Soviet Union (and later, the East European countries) and Germany were realigned demographically, geographically, and biologically according to imagined projects of the perfect citizenry. The developmental and exterminist metaphors adopted and implemented by the two dictators and their power apparatuses became the life framework for the subject population, the groundwork for the reinvention of both individual and collective identities. The macrostrategies of the state suffered a process of translation and adaptation into microstrategies of the individual. Socialization turned into political practice, into an effort to align “what one does with what s/he thinks and says about what s/he does.”⁴⁷

Political practice was the area where the citizen came to terms with the deliberately ideological lived environment. Under the circumstances, terror could be used to refer to “a complex sensibility of existential dislocation that affects the population broadly under totalitarian rule.”⁴⁸ Stalinism and Nazism were “states of terror” (as Overy puts it) because they tried to achieve homogenization by creating “battle communities” (in the words of Fritzsche) within which already existent differences were the subject of grotesque public dramatization and the object of elimination through “capillary organization” (Gentile’s term) and constant mobilization. Collective and individual dislocation under conditions of state mobilization and state violence generated new social realities that sustained both genocide and a sense of belonging and unity in “fractured (German) and quicksand (Soviet) societies” (Geyer). Both of them were “extreme consequences of secular humanism” (Gentile) echoing the disillusionment and despair brought on by the traumatic experience of the Great War.⁴⁹

Fascism and Communism, as political movements, were resolutions to a painfully and universally felt “sense-making crisis” throughout Europe.⁵⁰ Born out of the cataclysmic barbarism and unprecedented violence of World War I, these apocalyptical movements proclaimed the advent of the millennium in this world or, to use political philosopher Eric Voegelin’s formulation, they tried to immanentize the eschaton, to build Heaven on Earth, to eliminate the distinction between the City of Man and the City of God.⁵¹ Between 1914 and 1918, “in four years the belief in evolution, progress and history itself was wiped out” as the war “ripped up the historical fabric and cut everyone off from the past suddenly and irretrievably.”⁵² Communism and Fascism were reactions to this perceived anomy. They were attempts to give birth to a new sense of transcendence and belonging. From this point of view, they were, as Roger Griffin insightfully remarked, radical political modernisms.

IDEOLOGY AND INTENTIONALITY

The official Communist creed was rationalistic and lionized the legacies of the Enlightenment, while the Nazi ideologues (Alfred Rosenberg, Joseph Goebbels, Alfred Baumler, Otto Strasser) insisted on the power of irrational, vital energies and scorned the allegedly sterilizing effects of reason. The reality was that, underneath the ostensible philosophical incompatibilities between the two rival ideologies, Nazism contained a number of tactical affinities with the much-decried Marxism. Hitler himself admitted that he found inspiration in Marxist patterns of political struggle: “I have learned a great deal from Marxism, as I do not hesitate to admit. I don’t mean their tiresome social doctrine or the materialist conception of history,… and so on. But I have learned from their methods. The difference between them and myself is that I have really put into practice what these peddlers and pen-pushers have timidly begun. The whole National Socialism is based on it… National Socialism is what Marxism might have been if it could have broken its absurd and artificial ties with the democratic order.”⁵³

It is well known that there are scholars who resist the very idea of a comparison between Communism and Fascism. Comparison can (but not always does) diminish the uniqueness of the absolute horror symbolized by the Holocaust and can overlook the fact that the ideological intentions were significantly different between the Communist and Fascist, or rather, Nazi, projects. Still, both were revolutionary ideologies that aimed to destroy the status quo (that is, the bourgeois order) and its enshrined values. Both movements proclaimed the leading role of a community of chosen individuals grouped within the party. Both detested bourgeois values and liberal democracy. One carried to an extreme a certain Enlightenment universalism, the other made an absolute of racial particularism. Lenin did not nourish xenophobic propensities, but Stalin did. At the end of his life, Stalin behaved like a rabid anti-Semite and prepared horrific pogroms. Both Hitler and Stalin used propaganda to dehumanize their enemies, the Judeo-Bolsheviks, the Trotskyites, and the Zionists. Fascism and Communism equally put themselves in position to “blast a specific era out of the homogeneous course of history.”⁵⁴ They both aimed to demolish the past in the name of the future. Both totalitarianisms cultivated the myth of youth, rebirth, and the future.

Lenin, Stalin, and Hitler would not have been able to achieve their goals had they not known how to regiment, mobilize, and include large social strata in their efforts. Whereas Bolshevism was primarily a repressive ideocratic dictatorship, Nazism was, at least for its first years in power, a consensus dictatorship. Both represented the triumph of ideological constructs rooted in scientism, organicism, historicism, and voluntarism. For Lenin, class struggle was the ultimate justification for the ruthless persecution of aristocrats, priests, and wealthy peasants. The dehumanization of the enemy started basically with Lenin. This does not mean that Nazism was simply a