Jean W. Sedlar's Hitler's Central European Empire presents an “overview” of the experiences of a narrow tier of European states in World War II, from Finland in the north, through the Baltic states of Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania, then Poland, Czechoslovakia, and finally to Hungary in the south. Her purpose is “to provide a readable and accessible account of a key historical period in a region that has generally attracted insufficient attention from scholars.” She conceptualizes her ambitious project not as a “country-by-country account” but instead as a survey of an “entire region . . . linked during the war by the simple fact of belonging directly or indirectly to Hitler's empire.” Although a commendable endeavor, she misses her target on several counts.
A quick glance at the map on the cover juxtaposed with the title should raise an informed reader's eyebrow. The author justifies this odd assortment of states within “central Europe”—which runs contrary to most conventional classifications—on the basis of their presumed western historical and cultural orientation and their mutual pursuit of a western alignment. One can make a case for linking Poland, Czechoslovakia, and Hungary, usually associated with eastern Europe, or even with east-central Europe. Mixing in Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania, which more or less have shared a common historical course, but one quite different from their southern neighbors, makes little sense. As for Finland, it normally belongs with Scandinavia.
History and conventions aside, conceptualizing these states as a wartime entity becomes even more problematic since their experiences and interests varied far too much to combine them in any meaningful constellation and examine them together. In search of a viable common denominator, the author identifies “the simple fact of belonging . . . to Hitler's Empire” as the main criterion. But contrary to this premise, membership was not a “simple” matter; indeed the complexities and disparities within Hitler's “Empire” belie any neat categorizations. Most of Czechoslovakia, for instance, spent the war years under direct German police and military subjugation as the Protectorate of Bohemia-Moravia and as the client state of Slovakia. The latter and Hungary remained loyal if not always willing Axis partners into 1944. Poland suffered total annihilation in 1939 and provided the human material and the venue for the first installment of Hitler's racial transformation of Europe. As for the Baltic states, which the Soviet Union had incorporated in 1940, “Hitler's Empire” absorbed them when Operation Barbarossa rolled through in summer 1941. As members of the “Empire,” they endured exploitation, though not to the degree of Poland; but neither did they enjoy the allied status of Hungary, or even Slovakia. As for Finland, Sedlar concedes, “the Finns never became subservient tools of Hitler,” but nevertheless she assigns it to the “Empire.” Stronger cases for inclusion could be made for Austria and above all for Romania, whose wartime experiences were inextricably tied to Hungary. Even Yugoslavia, which initially followed the Axis course alongside Hungary and Romania until early 1941, when its fate veered onto paths paralleling those of Poland and Czechoslovakia, makes a better candidate for Hitler's “central European Empire.”
Another deficiency is the strictly annalistic narrative—beginning with 1912-1937 as the first chapter, with subsequent chapters dedicated to the years 1938 through 1945, with no subdivisions allotted for countries or themes. This unyielding chronological approach disrupts the reading flow, and as one moves along the pages, focus often jumps from events in one state to another with little or no warning or transition. Not only does this sequencing disrupt attention, but it also fragments several thematic subjects, such as the Holocaust, and leaves it to the reader to piece together a cohesive, comprehensive narrative.
In respect to the figure of Hitler, Sedlar fails to explain satisfactorily his intentions for the region and how this strange array of states, as an entity distinct from other parts of his domain, fit into his overall scheme of things. Hitler comes across as the traditional diplomat and predominant statesman of the region rather than as the demographic revolutionary aiming to reconstruct all of Europe along racial lines. The reader gains few new insights into the man and his vision for the region in terms of race and space. Another questionable precept in respect to Hitler and his vision is the author's perception of “Hitler's Empire” as a continuation of nineteenth-century colonialism, equating German intentions for “central Europe” and other points east with those of European colonialists exploiting African and Asian subjects. By addressing Hitler's aggression in these terms, Sedlar neglects recent historiography on the subject of Nazi expansion and conquest, particularly studies focusing on German racial, demographic, and economic assumptions and motives—works such as those by Götz Aly, Richard Breitman, Saul Friedländer, the recent studies of Christopher Browning, and many others of more current vintage. It strikes this reviewer that in a discussion of Hitler's “Empire,” in particular one that includes the Baltic states, there is no mention of Alfred Rosenberg, the self-declared Nazi ideologue and expert on the east.
In addition to relating the fates of the seven states, Sedlar weaves several thematic topics through the survey, the foremost being the Holocaust. She chronicles developments pertinent to the Holocaust as it played out in these states, but she scatters these throughout the text. It is left up to the reader to keep a mental track from one incident to the next, trying to maintain some thematic continuity. This disjointed approach, unfortunately, leaves the reader unfulfilled and uncertain as to where the author stands on this vital subject and what the reader should know of its overall impact on “central Europe.” One of the few interpretive observations one gleans in respect to the Holocaust is the enigmatic, “The Holocaust thus provides a salient example of the arrogance of power” (p. 5).
One might expect a synthesis of this type to provide a comprehensive and current bibliography, or a historiographic essay suggesting further, more specialized readings or as a point of departure for research, but this is not the case. The “selected” bibliography reveals almost exclusively English-language works, secondary at that, and mostly outdated. Perhaps the author utilized a wider array of sources than the “selected” list, but nothing indicates this. The limited sources reflect the relative consideration afforded the states in question, with Poland, Hungary, and Czechoslovakia receiving disproportionately far more attention than the others. This imbalance results in not only insufficient and merely cursory coverage of the Baltic states and Finland, but also errors of fact. For example, the author declares that when in late June, early July 1941 the Germans occupied Latvia, the Latvians created a new government (p. 185)—which in fact did not happen. Also, German and Latvian forces in Kurland surrendered on May 8, 1945, not May 1 (p. 355).
This reviewer can recommend this work for general readers already acquainted with World War II and the states under consideration—only those able to master the fragmented, time-delineated narrative. It would not serve effectively as an introductory classroom text, since students lacking knowledge of the region and the war would have difficulty in following its disjointed flow. The more conversant scholar would find the limited and mostly obsolete bibliography, the imbalance of coverage, and reluctance to tackle relevant scholarly issues somewhat disappointing.
