To save content items to your account,
please confirm that you agree to abide by our usage policies.
If this is the first time you use this feature, you will be asked to authorise Cambridge Core to connect with your account.
Find out more about saving content to .
To save content items to your Kindle, first ensure no-reply@cambridge.org
is added to your Approved Personal Document E-mail List under your Personal Document Settings
on the Manage Your Content and Devices page of your Amazon account. Then enter the ‘name’ part
of your Kindle email address below.
Find out more about saving to your Kindle.
Note you can select to save to either the @free.kindle.com or @kindle.com variations.
‘@free.kindle.com’ emails are free but can only be saved to your device when it is connected to wi-fi.
‘@kindle.com’ emails can be delivered even when you are not connected to wi-fi, but note that service fees apply.
The Introduction establishes the book’s central framework of ‘human salvage’, arguing that in the Second World War psychiatry operated across an unprecedent range of patient cohorts, including combat personnel, bombed civilians, unaccompanied children, veterans, displaced persons, and concentration camp survivors. It identifies key theoretical tensions that characterised wartime theory and practice: debates over constitutional predisposition, the role of real events in creating psychological suffering, and the appropriate balance of individual and collective responses to wartime distress. It also outlines how differing British and American approaches to military psychiatry emerged from opposing lessons drawn from the First World War, setting divergent expectations about screening, treatment, and the role of psychiatric expertise in managing the consequences of mass violence.
The Conclusion builds on the arguments contained in the chapters to consider the wider significance of this book’s findings. It demonstrates that as there has been hitherto no attempt to examine military history’s growth on its own terms, this has served to limit understanding of the development of British historical writing more broadly and the subject’s role in shaping responses to the First World War. When military history is incorporated, existing explanations of the nature and evolution of historical writing in Britain are shown to be problematic and incomplete as they do not account for either the topics covered or the methodological complexity of some of the subject’s subgenres. Equally, understanding the role military history played in the development of military thought in the army helps explain several aspects of the force’s decision-making at the outbreak of war in 1914. This chapter concludes by briefly outlining how military history’s evolution prior to the First World War shaped its subsequent development during the twentieth century.
The Epilogue summarizes the obstacles encountered, as well as the advances achieved, during the emergence of banking in Latin America from independence in the early nineteenth century down to the first decade of the twentieth century. This history is described as part of a long phase of slow capitalism that, eventually, led to faster economic growth and some convergence with more advanced nations, albeit subject to diverse trajectories. The Epilogue also raises questions regarding the building of authentic banking systems from the early twentieth century onwards, as well as the establishment of central banks from the 1920s and 1930s.
Even as many of its institutional legacies endured, the First World War brought about the collapse of the German colonial empire. The July Crisis of 1914 was triggered by mounting tensions in the Balkans, but colonial rivalries and the naval arms race had already helped to entrench some of the alignments that defined the war. Germany’s bid to construct Mittelafrika and to challenge Britain at sea failed. Most German colonies were conquered early with only Lettow-Vorbeck’s campaign in East Africa continued until 1918. Germany’s war aims combined continental annexations with overseas expansion, but these ambitions collapsed with the military defeat on the Western Front, creating the conditions for the November Revolution. For Germany, the Treaty of Versailles brought a double loss of empire with the cession of its European borderlands and the transformation of its colonies into League of Nations mandates. Reduced to its national core, the Weimar Republic codified a more centralised nation-state, consolidating institutional developments fostered by the colonial empire in preceding decades. At the same time, the loss of imperial status fuelled a politics of resentment that contributed to the erosion of the republican order.
Chapter 4, which covers the Beachhead battles in late 1942 and early 1943 and then the disbandment of three participant units in July 1943, further reveals the biases of senior officers towards the Militia. It examines the extent to which Militia battalions sustained casualties (an emotive and often misinterpreted aspect of these battles) and the degree to which these reflected the strategic imperatives and the Army’s unpreparedness for jungle warfare as much as their inadequate training. This chapter also analyses the policy and political interest in militiamen transferring to the AIF and the reasons why some men refused to offer unrestricted service, matters of central importance to understanding the Militia that have lacked detailed examination. It concludes by documenting how the obstinance of militiamen and a disregard for esprit de corps within Militia units among senior officers brought about the disbandment of the three most experienced battalions at the time.
This article examines the development and transformation of school colonies within the Italian child welfare system between the First World War and the immediate postwar period. Originally conceived as prophylactic institutions aimed at strengthening the bodies of frail and undernourished children, these colonies gradually assumed broader functions, becoming spaces shaped by new political and social imperatives. The article focuses on the impact of wartime mobilisation, the reconfiguration of welfare networks involving public authorities, voluntary organisations, and humanitarian agencies, as well as the growing role of doctors and teachers in structuring the daily life of these institutions. In particular, the text analyses how health prevention practices became intertwined with moral education and forms of political mobilisation. The result is a complex picture that highlights the emergence of a hybrid model which anticipated the subsequent welfare and educational policies of Fascist totalitarian pedagogy.
This article demonstrates the profound shaping influence of the First World War on the post-war lives and ministries of Australian Anglican Army chaplains. Through their use of the Anglican liturgy and their leadership of Anzac commemoration, returned Anglican chaplains offered means of consolation and hope to grieving Australians. They also addressed the need of many Australian veterans to make sense of their war experience as meaningful and sacred. In doing so, returned chaplains created the rituals, symbols and liturgy that would give enduring voice and shape to an emerging Australian civil religion. Veteran chaplains also founded religious brotherhoods; forged institutions, ministries and advocacy aimed towards the working class and men; and offered a corporate vision of society that sought to break the impasse between labour and capital, and contend with post-war claims of fascism, communism and capitalism. In turn, this article contends that the war’s aftermath represents a moment in Australian history when the Anglican Church focused on what it meant to be a nation, and the goals and aspirations worthy of national energy and enthusiasm. Returned Anglican chaplains were able, and had earned the right, to speak about such matters.
This introduction reflects on the conceptual benefits, challenges, and limits of putting into conversation military history and global history. It regards the two world wars as times of both disruption and heightened connectedness. Severed trade, breaches in diplomatic relations, enforced immobility, and economic sanctions were paired with new connections, contacts, networks, emulations, and reroutings. Four key perspectives define the volume’s approach. First, decentering the study of the world wars widens the geographic, chronological, and social scope of historians’ outlook, introducing a more diverse historical narrative. Second, focusing on the mobility of people, ideas, and goods, which the world wars both engendered and deepened, raises important questions about what was absorbed, adapted, and rejected as part of these circulations. Third, emphasizing encounters helps to show the impact of global warfare at the local level, highlights the transformation of individual and collective identities, and forces a reflection on the lives of those who remained untouched, at least apparently, by faraway events. Finally, this volume explores global languages: the shared systems of conceptualization and communication – including commemorative practices and international and humanitarian law – which developed on account of the world wars’ extreme violence.
This conclusion reflects on the importance of studying the two world wars as moments of interconnectedness, when societies, economies, and cultures interacted with one another across national boundaries. It insists on the importance of moving beyond solely diplomatic, military, and political histories to instead prioritize transnational and transimperial perspectives, acknowledging groups and individuals above and below the level of states. Several categories are particularly useful in this endeavor: home fronts, colonial mobilization, captivity, occupations, and neutrality. Taking stock of these helps to highlight new frameworks of experience spread across the world. Finally, there is the important question of the relationship between the world wars and globalization. By their nature and by the reactions they prompted, these two global conflicts were ultimately the agents as much as the opponents of that process.
Very few African American soldiers in the First World War ever saw combat or accrued the cultural status conferred by participation in combat, because they were placed primarily into labor units. Sexualized assessments of motivation susceptibility played a crucial, but heretofore unappreciated role, in this placement. As this article demonstrates, sexual racism was central to these assessments and to Black soldiers’ placement because motivation susceptibility was measured, by the War Department, in terms of so-called “morale,” which referred simultaneously to a soldier’s mood and willingness to fight. Military leaders believed that morale was improved or imperiled by a soldier’s sexual conduct. If a soldier was sexually restrained, he could be motivated to fight by chivalrously redirecting his sexual energy into battle. Conversely, if a soldier was sexually unrestrained, he could not be motivated through “parasexual” measures. Connecting the dots between the morale programs of the First World War and the racial exclusion of personnel placement, this article demonstrates that sexualized motivation is central to the story of race and racism in this pivotal conflict.
The First World War did not mark the end of economic interdependence, but the strategic demands of the war twisted international economic relations even further in the service of power politics. The chapter concludes by returning to the central question of how economic interdependence transformed power politics. It restrained war amongst the great powers and offered new areas for the conduct of power politics. As it reshaped power relations, states that suffered setbacks to their perceived vital interests, became more willing to compensate for their weakness in economic competition by turning to the use of military force.
The First World War occupies a central place in debates about effects of economic interdependence on international politics. This chapter examines how historians and IR scholars have explained the outbreak of war in 1914 between states with deep economic ties. It discusses the reciprocal effects of economic interdependence and power politics upon each other. By the early twentieth century, growing international trade and capital flows constituted an essential part of the international order, along with the institutions and practices of power politics. The chapter argues that the interdependence transformed power politics in ways that both sustained peace and created conditions for war. It sets out how that balance tilted towards militarisation from 1911.
The last phases and immediate aftermath of World War One represented both the peak of the nationality question and the definitive breakthrough of the minority one. The “morphing” of one into the other (as Holly Case has defined it) is often mentioned in the historiography but rarely analyzed in detail. This article focuses on the key period 1916–1923 and tracks this transition examining the work of different organizations and actors that contributed to it. The article shows that the switch from nationalities to minorities was not absolute. Although the grammar of minorities and majorities was dominant in the interwar years, the vocabulary of nationalities did not disappear and many actors used these terms as synonyms to refer to the same underlying “problem”: the persistence of national difference in an increasingly homogenizing world. Above all, the move from nationalities to minorities foreclosed any possibility of obtaining independent statehood in the new Europe of nation-states. Finally, the article dissects the process whereby the imposition of minority treaties only to Central and Eastern European countries entrenched a stereotypical distinction between a civilized homogenous West and a repressive heterogeneous East that established an understanding of the two areas as undifferentiated monolithic entities.
The chapter introduces the origins of the plebiscite as a tool of international politics, and examines Sarah Wambaugh’s early career in the American women’s peace and suffrage movements. Wambaugh began researching the plebiscite following American entry into the First World War in 1917, and her early contributions reflected her youthful idealism and embrace of the principle of the self-determination of nations pronounced by Woodrow Wilson. Her early works may have influenced the peacemakers during the Paris Peace Conference of 1919; however, the plebiscites that resulted were more frequently the result of instrumental bargaining among the victorious powers. If the plebiscite was not used as consistently as advocates such as Wambaugh would have liked, a major achievement was the inclusion of women’s suffrage in nearly all plebiscites written into the post-war settlement. In this the first plebiscite decided upon for the Danish–German border region of Schleswig set an important precedent.
In the twentieth century, English identity changed through the impact of two World Wars, from a nostalgic sentiment cherished by the privileged classes, to a more widespread attachment to an endangered homeland. The wars saw a dramatic expansion of British state power and were followed by egalitarian social policies that promoted a sense of British belonging while often maintaining undertones of Englishness.
This chapter examines Ruqaya Izzidien’s The Watermelon Boys (2018) and, more briefly, Isabella Hammad’s The Parisian (2019). It argues that each of these novels offers a reassessment of the First World War in Mesopotamia (contemporary Iraq) and Palestine, and its ongoing repercussions in the region. This chapter argues that these books should be read as resistant forms of cultural production, which assert the humanity of populations that were often reduced to racialized types or caricature in First World War representations of them. In contrast, these authors draw attention to the imperial roots of contemporary conflict in the Middle East; to the rich cultures, histories, and traditions of its people; and to the impact of violence on ordinary Arab lives, especially those of women and children. As such, they not only offer a new perspective on the First World War, but also challenge the perverse logic of twenty-first-century conflicts in which the deaths of Iraqi and Palestinian civilians continue to be seen as acceptable “collateral damage.”
Food in the era of the First World War was much more than a military necessity. The shortages of foodstuffs profoundly shaped states and societies during the conflict and beyond. Hunger in war was not a new phenomenon, but its experience during the First World War led to three main changes. First, it changed the social contract between citizens and the state. People who had suffered serial nutritional deprivation came to believe more forcefully than before that a primary responsibility of the state was to provide a bare minimum of supplies for their survival. States, too, understood that being able to provide foodstuffs for their citizens was essential for their legitimacy. Second, hunger in the era of the First World War brought a new emphasis on “nutritional sovereignty”: the idea that states must be able to produce their food supplies themselves, rather than import them. Finally, hunger in the era of the First World War was a turning point in the development of international aid. While international charitable aid had existed long before the War, the amount of aid given the number of different groups and institutions grew exponentially.
Food insecurity during the First World War made hungry civilians around the continent search for alternative modes and means to fight hunger in war and post-war Europe. A transnational comparison of survival strategies, employed by individuals throughout Europe, demonstrates how ordinary civilians responded to the shortcomings of official food provisioning. The chapter explores how civilians turned to home-based agricultural production, made trips to the countryside or participated in black market. As regular circuits for obtaining food were very restricted, individuals circumvented official distribution means by relying on the alternative economies of grey and black markets. Bartering, especially, became an important means to cope with the economy of shortages. Relying on informal channels, as this chapter demonstrates, the hungry population traded jewellery for potatoes or furniture for meat. Civilians sometimes even resorted to illegal and criminal activities such as fraud and theft to meet their basic needs. In Eastern and Western Europe, individuals of course took actions in different forms, depending on the severity of the food scarcity, but, as this chapter argues, the strategies they used also shared many similar features and delineated new modes of social interactions, and new relationships to the licit and the illicit in wartime.
The chapter explores US–Russia relations in the years before Russia entered her second revolution in February 1917 and America joined the First World War in April 1917. This period was complicated by discrimination against Jews and other ethnic minorities in Russia, by ideological differences between American democracy and Russian autocracy, and by geopolitical disagreements. Yet these elements of conflict did not hamper the two states’ rapprochement, which began at the end of 1914 and at times resembled the euphoria of a honeymoon. This chapter emphasizes that the surprising thaw in US–Russia relations cannot be explained only by the convergence of the two governments’ interests: namely, that the Russian Empire desperately needed to buy American supplies for its armed forces, while Americans were eager to sell their surplus products. Interactions between Imperial Russia and the United States call for more comprehensive consideration, with a particular focus on the changes in mutual representations and the intensified process of Russians and Americans studying each other. This is precisely what this chapter sets out to provide.
While many European countries had used rationing and price ceilings to respond to emergency hunger situations before the First World War, these measures had been limited in their scope to cities and smaller areas, and were of short duration, generally lasting weeks or months. The long-term experience of hunger in the First World War era shattered civilian expectations of state responsibility and pushed governments to act in new and different ways. This chapter examines how a variety of states chose to respond to the changing experiences of insufficient food supplies and hunger faced by their citizens as they realized that their previous plans, or lack of planning, were insufficient. This chapter is the first comparative analysis of the technical and political aspects of food distribution systems in the First World War for a wide range of different states. The timing and practices implemented by different governments differed for both practical reasons – food did not disappear at equal rates everywhere – and for political reasons.