Balder Ex-Libris - Lothrop Stoddard TheodoreReview of books rare and missing2024-03-16T01:56:42+00:00urn:md5:aa728a70505b2fae05796923271581c2DotclearLothrop Stoddard Theodore - The Rising Tide of color Against White World-Supremacyurn:md5:1df9c1f8f70bef087ab091f9d4b9f92e2013-01-15T14:17:00+00:002013-01-15T23:35:47+00:00balderLothrop Stoddard TheodoreAmericaEugenicsEuropeRacialism <p><img src="https://balderexlibris.com/public/img/.Lothrop_Stoddard_Theodore_-_The_Rising_Tide_of_color_Against_White_World-Supremacy_s.jpg" alt="" /><br />
Author : <strong>Lothrop Stoddard Theodore</strong><br />
Title : <strong>The Rising Tide of color Against White World-Supremacy</strong><br />
Year : 1922<br />
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PREFACE. More than a decade ago I became convinced that the key-note of twentieth-century world-politics would be the relations between the primary races of mankind. Momentous modifications of existing race-relations were evidently impending, and nothing could be more vital to the course of human evolution than the character of these modifications, since upon the quality of human life all else depends. Acoordingly, my attention was thenceforth largely directed to racial matters. In the preface to an historical monograph ("The French Revolution in San Domingo ") written shortly before the Great War, I stated: "The world-wide struggle between the primary races of mankind - the 'conflict of color,' as it has been happily termed - bids fair to be the fundamental problem of the twentieth century, and great communities like the United States of America, the South African Confederation, and Australasia regard the 'color question' as perhaps the gravest problem of the future." Those lines were penned in June, 1914. Before their publication the Great War had burst upon the world. At that time several reviewers commented upon the above dictum and wondered whether, had I written two months later, I should have held a different opinion. As a matter of fact, I should have expressed myself even more strongly to the same effect. To me the Great War was from the first the White Civil War, which, whatever its outcome, must gravely complicate the course of racial relations. Before the war I had hoped that the readjustments rendered inevitable by the renascence of the brown and yellow peoples of Asia would be a gradual, and in the main a pacific, process, kept within evolutionary bounds by the white world's inherent strength and fundamental solidarity. The frightful weakening of the white world during the war, however, opened up revolutionary, even cataclysmic, possibilities. In saying this I do not refer solely to military "perils." The subjugation of white lands by colored armies may, of course, occur, especially if the white world continues to rend itself with internecine wars. However, such colored triumphs of arms are less to be dreaded than more enduring conquests like migrations which would swamp whole populations and turn countries now white into colored man's lands irretrievably lost to the white world. Of course, these ominous possibilities existed even before 1914, but the war has rendered them much more probable. The most disquieting feature of the present situation, however, is not the war but the peace. The white world's inability to frame a constructive settlement, the perpetuation of intestine hatreds, and the menace of fresh white civil wars complicated by the spectre of social revolution, evoke the dread thought that the late war may be merely the first stage in a cycle of ruin. In fact, so absorbed is the white world with its domestic dissensions that it pays scant heed to racial problems whose importance for the future of mankind far transcends the questions which engross its attention to-day. This relative indifference to the larger racial issues has determined the writing of the present book. So fundamental are these issues that a candid discussion of them would seem to be timely and helpful. In the following pages I have tried to analyze in their various aspects the present relations between the white and non-white worlds. My task has been greatly aided by the Introduction from the pen of Madison Grant, who has admirably summarized the biological and historical background. A life-long student of biology, Mr. Grant approaches the subject along that line. My own avenue of approach being worldpolitics, the resulting convergence of different viewpoints has been a most useful one. For the stimulating counsel of Mr. Grant in the preparation of this book my thanks are especially due. I desire also to acknowledge my indebtedness for helpful suggestions to Messrs. Alleyne Ireland, Glenn Frank, and other friends. LOTHROP STODDARD. NEW YORK CITY, February 28, 1920. <strong>...</strong></p>Lothrop Stoddard Theodore - The revolt against civilizationurn:md5:f673e41038eedb0e190a9b6878b4d0542013-01-15T14:02:00+00:002013-01-15T14:10:43+00:00balderLothrop Stoddard TheodoreBolchevikCommunismJewRacialism <p><img src="https://balderexlibris.com/public/img/.Lothrop_Stoddard_Theodore_-_The_revolt_against_civilization_s.jpg" alt="" /><br />
Author : <strong>Lothrop Stoddard Theodore</strong><br />
Title : <strong>The revolt against civilization The Menace of the Under Man</strong><br />
Year : 1922<br />
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PREFACE. THE revolutionary unrest which to-day afflicts the entire world goes far deeper than is generally supposed. Its root-cause is not Russian Bolshevik propaganda, not the late war, not the French Revolution, but a process of racial impoverishment, which destroyed the great civilizations of the past and which threatens to destroy our own. This grim blight of civilized society has been correctly diagnosed only in recent years. The momentous biological discoveries of the past generation have revealed the true workings of those hitherto mysterious laws of life on which, in the last analysis, all human activity depends. In the light of these biological discoveries, confirmed and amplified by investigations in other fields of science, especially psychology, all political and social problems need to be re-examined. Such a re-examination of one of these problems - the problem of social revolution - has been attempted in the present book. LOTHROP STODDARD BROOKLINE, MASSACHUSETTS, March 30, 1922. <strong>...</strong></p>Lothrop Stoddard Theodore - The new world of Islamurn:md5:bce451f0ddff3a3815f352641c53d2112013-01-15T13:59:00+00:002013-01-15T14:00:20+00:00balderLothrop Stoddard TheodoreAfricaAsiaIslam <p><img src="https://balderexlibris.com/public/img/.Lothrop_Stoddard_Theodore_-_The_new_world_of_Islam_s.jpg" alt="" /><br />
Author : <strong>Lothrop Stoddard Theodore</strong><br />
Title : <strong>The new world of Islam</strong><br />
Year : 1922<br />
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PREFACE. The entire world of Islam is to-day in profound ferment. From Morocco to China and from Turkestan to the Congo, the 250,000,000 followers of the Prophet Mohammed are stirring to new ideas, new impulses, new aspirations. A gigantic transformation is taking place whose results must affect all mankind. This transformation was greatly stimulated by the late war. But it began long before. More than a hundred years ago the seeds were sown, and ever since then it has been evolving; at first slowly and obscurely; later more rapidly and perceptibly; until to-day, under the stimulus of Armageddon, it has burst into sudden and startling bloom. The story of that strange and dramatic evolution I have endeavoured to tell in the following pages. Considering in turn its various aspects—religious, cultural, political, economic, social—I have tried to portray their genesis and development, to analyse their character, and to appraise their potency. While making due allowance for local differentiations, the intimate correlation and underlying unity of the various movements have ever been kept in view. Although the book deals primarily with the Moslem world, it necessarily includes the non-Moslem Hindu elements of India. The field covered is thus virtually the entire Near and Middle East. The Far East has not been directly considered, but parallel developments there have been noted and should always be kept in mind. <strong>...</strong></p>Lothrop Stoddard Theodore - The French revolution in San Domingourn:md5:613baf0aeee6388731ab6de876ee3a702013-01-15T13:56:00+00:002013-01-15T13:57:23+00:00balderLothrop Stoddard TheodoreFranceHaitiRacialismRevolution <p><img src="https://balderexlibris.com/public/img/.Lothrop_Stoddard_Theodore_-_The_French_revolution_in_San_Domingo_s.jpg" alt="" /><br />
Author : <strong>Lothrop Stoddard Theodore</strong><br />
Title : <strong>The French revolution in San Domingo</strong><br />
Year : 1914<br />
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PREFACE. The world-wide struggle between the primary races of mankind —the "conflict of color," as it has been happily termed —bids fair to be the fundamental problem of the twentieth century, and great communities like the United States of America, the South African Confederation, and Australasia regard the "color question" as perhaps the gravest problem of the future. To our age, therefore, the French Revolution in San Domingo — the first great shock between the ideals of white supremacy and race equality, which erased the finest of European colonies from the map of the white world and initiated that most noted attempt at negro self-government, the black republic of Haiti — cannot but be of peculiar interest. Strangely enough, the real story of this tremendous racial and social cataclysm has never been told, and it is to fill this gap in the history of modern times that this book has been written. For, be it noted, in this field, the race question, important though it be, is not the sole noteworthy element. San Domingo in 1789 was the most striking example of French colonial genius, and the struggle of the colony's formative ideals with the new political, economic, and social conceptions of the French Revolution is of great importance to the history of European colonization. The attempt to apply the Revolutionary ideals to an environment so radically different from that of France yields a most valuable side-light to the study of the French Revolution itself, while the attempt made under the Consulate to restore French authority and economic prosperity to San Domiago is one of the most illuminating episodes in the career of the master-figure of the age — Napoleon Bonaparte. <strong>...</strong></p>Lothrop Stoddard Theodore - Stakes of the warurn:md5:97cc8d7f5970174edfa75b92066b44732013-01-15T13:36:00+00:002013-01-15T13:50:44+00:00balderLothrop Stoddard TheodoreEuropeFirst World War <p><img src="https://balderexlibris.com/public/img/.Lothrop_Stoddard_Theodore_-_Stakes_of_the_war_s.jpg" alt="" /><br />
Author : <strong>Lothrop Stoddard Theodore</strong><br />
Title : <strong>Stakes of the war Summary of the various Problems, Claims and Interests of the Nations at the Peace Table</strong><br />
Year : 1918<br />
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PREFACE. Yesterday the detailed facts of European and Asiatic politics, race, trade, industry, and religion were of primary interest to the scholar and foreign trader. To-day they inject themselves into the discussions of every counting-room, throw their shadow across the deliberations of every labor council, and stand as stubborn factors in the personal fortune and future of every American. Foreign affairs have become the personal concern of the man in the street, no less than the professional concern of the scholar and the trader. Not that these facts have not always had profound influence upon American interests ; but it remained for the war to force upon us, as a people, a belated recognition of the fact that we are part and parcel of a world of interlaced interests in which no nation can play a lone hand. This book is an attempt to chart the facts involved in those problems of race and territory which the war has shoved into the foreground of our political and business thinking, which will demand solution at the peace-table, and with the implications of which we shall hereafter be obliged to deal—facts which no business man can in safety overlook if he is to plan wisely for the future; facts which no labor leader can prudently ignore if he is to guard the gains of the past and guarantee the development of the future ; facts which no legislator can leave out of his thinking if he is to bring constructive statesmanship to bear upon American policy ; facts which the average American must know in order to read his daily paper with full appreciation of the related meanings of the news, filled as it to-day is with new names, new factors, new problems forced upon his attention by necessity and self-interest. In writing this book we have tried to keep strictly to the role of reporters of facts. "We have studiously avoided the expression of personal opinions. It may be thought that we have indulged in opinion at the points where we have dealt with the various solutions proposed for the several problems ; but here again we have only set down some of the solutions that statesmen, publicists, and political schools have advanced. "We have tried to report, with no admixture of our personal opinions, what ends those who have proposed a given solution think it will serve, and to record as well the objections that have been raised to such solution. "We have included these statements of proposed solutions in this book of facts because the points of view and convictions which they represent are as truly facts for political engineering to reckon with at the peace-table as any matter of race or trade. But we have not in any instance placed our personal valuation upon a solution. The reader may get the impression that we have not taken into full account the practical force of the political idealism that has taken such concrete form in the recent state papers of the United States and of our associates in the war ; it may be thought that in listing the interests of Russia, let us say, we have overlooked the renunciation of many old interests that has been made by the present revolutionary leaders ; or, again, where we state that the possession of a certain territory by a given nation would cut off from the sea certain other nations, it may seem that we have left out of our reckoning the growing determination of statesmanship that the problem of access to the sea for all nations shall be constructively met at the peace conference by adequate international arrangements. In all such cases, however, it must be remembered that this book is not a propagandist document, but an attempt to list all of the concrete factors that must be dealt with by the new statesmanship or by the revolutionist philosophy in the attempt to work out a new order of economic and political relationships. Nor in discussing the interests that several nations have in a given territory have we mixed our opinion with the analysis. We have tried accurately to tabulate the interests claimed by the several nations, as those claims have been expressed in the writings and pronouncements of their respective statesmen, publicists, business men, and other leaders of opinion. If such an arrangement of facts enables the reader to see in turn through English, French, Russian, German, or Italian eyes, the method will be justified; for what a nation thinks its interests are may be as real a factor in political calculation as what its interests really are. We have not been lured into any ambitious attempt to guide American opinion. We have tried simply to bring together the raw materials of fact from which an intelligent public opinion can draw its own conclusions. There are books beyond number that draw sweeping generalizations regarding international politics and organization. The danger is that generalizations will determine the opinion of America before American opinion has acquired that saving balance of judgment which comes only with a knowledge of facts. A literature of generalization is indeed awakening the American mind to interest in world affairs, but we need a literature of fact before the public mind has been captured by the special pleader. We have been obliged to set definite limitations to the scope of these studies. We have not dealt with those problems which are essentially matters of international law with its technical considerations ; that field is well treated in many existing volumes. We have not eonsider'ed the problem of China; that problem, as such, may not come up for specific action by the conference that settles this war, although it doubtless holds important possibilities for the future. We have not treated the problem of straits and canals ; that problem promises to fall largely in the field of international regulation and control, which has not lacked constructive treatment at many hands. We have taken as a basis for this volume those racial and territorial problems directly involved in the war at the time the book goes to press, and which are virtually certain to be treated at the peace-table. This delimitation of field has excluded certain problems of race and territory which may be raised if still other nations are drawn into the war. Likewise it has ruled out certain other problems of race and territory, the treatment of which at the hands of the peace conference is highly problematic. With the international situation daily changing with unprecedented swiftness, it has been clearly out of the question to write a book that would record with scientific accuracy and completeness the statistics of race and industry of the immediate war-governed situation. We have, therefore, used no statistics later than those of December 31, 1913. Later statistics are difficult to obtain, and, when obtainable, are frequently juggled. But even though accurate statistics of the immediate situation were in all instances obtainable, they would be less pertinent to the purpose of these studies than the pre-war statistics. The statistics of the present situation, especially the economic statistics, deal with an abnormal situation, whereas these problems must be settled upon the basis of the normal situation which peace involves. Therefore, choice would prompt, even though necessity did not dictate, the use of the statistics of 1913 in the analysis of the essential factors in each problem. May we repeat that we have sought to serve American opinion by the simple reporting of facts. In no small measure we have written this book from a sense of duty which recognizes that passionate devotion to ideals on the battle-field must be supplemented by realistic dealing with the facts of race and economics at the peace-table if sacrifice is to be rewarded with security. LOTHROP Stoddard, Boston, January, 1918. Glenn Frank. <strong>...</strong></p>Lothrop Stoddard Theodore - Re-Forging Americaurn:md5:185c658e6284fa675d8116a0eff077722013-01-15T13:35:00+00:002013-01-15T13:36:03+00:00balderLothrop Stoddard TheodoreNorth AmericaRacialismUnited States <p><img src="https://balderexlibris.com/public/img/.Lothrop_Stoddard_Theodore_-_Re-Forging_America_s.jpg" alt="" /><br />
Author : <strong>Lothrop Stoddard Theodore</strong><br />
Title : <strong>Re-Forging America The story of our nationhood</strong><br />
Year : 1927<br />
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To us Americans of to-day there bas been vouchsafed what is at once a high duty and a high privilege. For we are able to share in the greatest enterprise since Independence-the re-forging of America. Clear and strong athwart the tumult of our present discords sounds the call to national unity. Firm and stanch is the national will to become again what we once were-a truly like-minded people. This book essays the story of American nationhood. It tells how, on the deep foundations of the long colonial past, there arose a splendid young nation. It goes on to tell how the bright promise of our early days was darkened by the disaster of the Civil War and by the blight of alien factors. Lastly, this book tells how, after more than half a century of deepening confusion which threatened to destroy our ideals, our culture, our very nationhood itself, we awoke to the peril and are to-day engaged in the inspiring task of fulfilling the early promise of American life. The problems of national reconstruction are many. The closing of the gates to mass-immigration is merely a first step. Alien elements in our population must be assimilated. Political and cultural dissensions should be harmonized. Above all, our great negro problem must be realistically and constructively dealt with. The dilemma of color, at once the most chronic and the most acute of American issues, has long been regarded with despairmg pessumsm. In these pages we have suggested at least a tentative solution which we have termed Bi-Racialism: The Key to Social Peace. The task before us is thus long and arduous. But the heart of the American people is sound, its courage is high, and its eyes are opened to the challenge of the times. With knowledge and vision, we may have faith that we shall overcome our present diffi.culties and shaH continue to tread the upward path toward a greater and better America. Brookline, Massachusetts, March 3, 1927. LOTHROP STODDARD. <strong>...</strong></p>Lothrop Stoddard Theodore - Realism : The True Challenge of Fascismurn:md5:32b6b9c1db6085ccd3e6901ddbd3f7412013-01-15T13:30:00+00:002013-01-15T13:31:10+00:00balderLothrop Stoddard TheodoreFascism <p><img src="https://balderexlibris.com/public/img/.Lothrop_Stoddard_Theodore_-_Realism_The_True_Challenge_of_Fascism_s.jpg" alt="" /><br />
Author : <strong>Lothrop Stoddard Theodore</strong><br />
Title : <strong>Realism : The True Challenge of Fascism</strong><br />
Year : 1927<br />
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THAT Fascism militant challenges our times is generally understood. Yet the full extent of the challenge is hardly appreciated. Most persons see in Fascism a disturbing political portent. Few observers perceive that it also interrogates certain established ideas and ideals in startlingly novel fashion. The reason for this inadequate appreciation is that, outside Italy, Fascism's critics and admirers alike err in neglecting its intellectual side. Fascist acts and policies are closely watched, and pronouncements of Mussolini are carefully read. But the logic of Fascist thought is seldom accorded the attention it deserves. <strong>...</strong></p>Lothrop Stoddard Theodore - Racial Realities In Europeurn:md5:267b586e3c3453c0244cbd0b071f2c992013-01-15T13:26:00+00:002013-01-15T23:36:05+00:00balderLothrop Stoddard TheodoreEugenicsEuropeRacialism <p><img src="https://balderexlibris.com/public/img/.Lothrop_Stoddard_Theodore_-_Racial_Realities_In_Europe_s.jpg" alt="" /><br />
Author : <strong>Lothrop Stoddard Theodore</strong><br />
Title : <strong>Racial Realities In Europe</strong><br />
Year : 1924<br />
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NOT long ago a well-known British scientist was showing me his collection of Egyptian antiquities. Up and down the long museum hall we strolled, gazing at the innumer able relics of a remote past. Safely ensconced in glass- covered cases, these exiles from the sunny land of the Pharaohs looked strangely alien in the gray light of a London afternoon. Presently the scientist halted before a show-case. "Here," said he, tapping the glass with his forefinger - "here is something which to a student of racial matters like yourself will be of peculiar interest." I looked. The case was filled with little heads and busts made of burnt clay, or terra-cotta. There were more than a hundred of them, neatly arranged in long rows. "These little busts," went on the scientist, "were made to represent the different types of foreigners residing in the city of Memphis shortly after the Persian conquest of Egypt, about 2,500 years ago. Apparently made for the purpose of being carried in some sacred procession, they were deposited in a shrine which was recently discovered by our excavators." I looked closer - and was filled with astonishment. Those ancient busts, modelled after men in their graves these 2,500 years, were strangely familiar. Many of them looked exactly like men who walk the earth today. There were Arabs not at all different from the Arabs whom I had seen sitting beneath their black Bedouin tents or swaying upon camels crossing the desert sands. There were Armenians indistinguishable from Armenians whom I had viewed by thousands in refugee camps throughout the Near East. There were negroes just like Georgia cotton-pickers, and there was a Jew who might have stepped in off Broadway. Furthermore, there were busts representing historic racial types such as Greeks, Persians, and Babylonians - races which no longer exist, yet whose appearance is known to us from statuary and kindred relics come down to us from ancient times. Those old Greeks and Persians depicted in the busts were instantly recognizable as the same breeds of men sculptured on the friezes of the Athenian Parthenon and on the bas-reliefs of Persia's ruined capital, Persepolis. On the contrary, the busts did not in the least resemble modern Greeks and Persians - peoples which, though bearing the same names, have practically none of the ancient blood. Lastly, there were a few busts depicting racial types which have perished without leaving even a historic memory, so that to-day we have no idea of who they were or whence they came. To my mind that series of little heads and busts, fashioned by the deft fingers of old Egyptian craftsmen, is a most striking illustration of the mighty drama of man's racial life athwart the ages. Just think of it! Here we have a series of statuettes showing the various types of foreigners who walked the streets of an ancient Egyptian city. Pass 2,500 years, and what do we find? We find that some of those race types still survive relatively unchanged; that others have perished, leaving their names but not their blood; and that still others have vanished so utterly that not even a memory of them remains. And all this in 2,500 years! What rapid changes! Does that last remark sound strange? Let us, then, remember that man has probably existed for something like 500,000 years. Comparing man's race life with man's individual life, what signifies a couple of thousand years? Yes, for 500,000 years men have walked the earth - men of all sorts and conditions, of the most varied appearance and capacity. And for untold ages men have been divided into sharply marked races, ranging all the way from types so primitive that they looked like apes up to types such as the ancient Greeks, who were certainly handsomer and probably much more intelligent than any human stock now alive. And the great drama of man's race life still unfolds, never more intensely than to-day. More and more we are coming to realize the fundamental importance of race in human affairs. More and more we see that the racial factor lies behind most of the world's problems. This is not solely an academic matter to be left for the consideration of scientists and historians; on the contrary, it is about the livest, most practical subject that can engage the attention of thinking men and women to-day. A general understanding of racial matters is necessary for an intelligent appreciation of current events. Would you understand what is happening in the world, why nations act as they do, what their relations are to America, and what our policy should be toward them? You cannot fully understand these things unless you have some general idea of the racial factors involved. And, unless you thus understand, you cannot act so successfully and efficiently in your own every-day activities, whether you be banker, manufacturer, politician, farmer, professional man or wage-earner. Directly or indirectly, these things touch us one and all, both in our common capacity as citizens and in our private capacity as individuals. Especially do we need to regard the racial factor when considering Europe, because hitherto in considering European affairs that factor has been disregarded. When we look at other parts of the world, racial distinctions leap to the eye and the racial factor obtains proper recognition. Who can think of China, India, Mexico, Africa, without instantly sensing the significance of race? When we turn to Europe, however, we do not at first glance get any such clear-cut impression. Of course we may realize in a general way that inborn distinctions exist between the inhabitants of various European countries, that Swedes differ markedly from Spaniards, say, or Russians from Englishmen. Still, even then, we are apt to think of such differences not so much in terms of race as in terms of other things, like nationality, language, religion, and culture. We look at the political map of Europe and there find a continent divided into a number of national states with sharply defined political frontiers, jealously independent of one another, emphasizing their respective policies, languages, manners, and customs. We see them engaged in bitter rivalries and fighting bloody wars over just such things. What wonder if we come to feel that those are the things which really matter, that by comparison other elements in Europe's problems may be relatively disregarded? And yet, is this true? Are there not other factors, deep-seated but powerful, working behind the scenes? Assuredly there is one such - race. The discoveries of modem science reveal more and more clearly the fundamental importance of race in human affairs. Of course there are other basic factors to be considered, like climate and soil. Yet even these are not so universal in their effects as race, which subtly but inevitably influences every phase of human existence. Whoever begins looking at Europe from the racial angle is astonished at the new light thrown upon its problems, at the apparent mysteries that are explained, at the former riddles that are solved. Europe's seemingly tangled history grows much simpler, while present-day conditions become more understandable. Look at a race map of Europe. How it differs from the political maps we are accustomed to see! Gone are all those intricate national frontiers. Instead of a Europe split into many states, we see a Europe inhabited by three races. These races are known as the Nordic race, the Alpine race, and the Mediterranean race. They have all been in Europe for thousands of years, and to them the great bulk of Europe's present inhabitants belong. Only in Eastern Europe do we find a perceptible admixture of Asiatic elements, while in Southern Europe we discover certain infusions of negroid African blood. Both these alien elements have, however, entered Europe in relatively recent historic times. <strong>...</strong></p>Lothrop Stoddard Theodore - Present-day Europeurn:md5:d96d097988c60cac3d4420c1e37931e22013-01-15T13:20:00+00:002013-01-15T13:21:54+00:00balderLothrop Stoddard TheodoreEurope <p><img src="https://balderexlibris.com/public/img/.Lothrop_Stoddard_Theodore_-_Present-day_Europe_s.jpg" alt="" /><br />
Author : <strong>Lothrop Stoddard Theodore</strong><br />
Title : <strong>Present-day Europe Its national states of mind</strong><br />
Year : 1917<br />
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This book resolved itself from the first into a series of choices. The problem was, how to portray within the limits of a single volume the war psychology of the various European nations. That problem was not an easy one. The portrayal of national states of mind requires treatment differing radically from that employed in a narrative of events. The only satisfactory method of portraying thought and emotion is the use of direct evidence—the testimony of the people themselves This explains the numerous direct quotations which will be found in the succeeding pages. No words of a foreign observer could mirror the spirit of warring Europe as do the voices of its sons and daughters crying out from a full heart in the very hour of trial. The evidence adduced has been of the most contemporary and popular character. Speeches, press-comment, pamphlets, brochures—the words of and for the moment : these best bespeak the stirrings of the national soul. Official utterances, carefully weighed and craftily spoken as they are, are never quoted save when they faithfully represent popular feeling or when they produce a marked effect upon public opinion. <strong>...</strong></p>Lothrop Stoddard Theodore - Into The Darkness Nazi Germany Todayurn:md5:ee8120f9719341c789213c59de31b02b2013-01-15T13:16:00+00:002013-01-15T13:17:40+00:00balderLothrop Stoddard TheodoreGermanySecond World WarThird Reich <p><img src="https://balderexlibris.com/public/img/.Lothrop_Stoddard_Theodore_-_Into_The_Darkness_Nazi_Germany_Today_s.jpg" alt="" /><br />
Author : <strong>Lothrop Stoddard Theodore</strong><br />
Title : <strong>Into The Darkness Nazi Germany Today</strong><br />
Year : 1940<br />
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Link download : <a href="https://balderexlibris.com/public/ebook/Lothrop_Stoddard_Theodore_-_Into_The_Darkness_Nazi_Germany_Today.zip">Lothrop_Stoddard_Theodore_-_Into_The_Darkness_Nazi_Germany_Today.zip</a><br />
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All Europe is under the shadow of war. It is like an eclipse of the sun. In the warring nations the darkness is most intense, amounting to a continuous blackout. The neutral countries form a sort of twilight zone, where life is better, yet far from normal. In nature, an eclipse is a passing phenomenon; awe-inspiring but soon over. Not so with the war-hidden sun of Europe‟s civilization. Normal light and warmth do not return. Ominously, the twilight zone of neutrality becomes an ever-bleaker gray, while war‟s blackout grows more and more intense. I entered wartime Europe by way of Italy, making the trip from America on the Italian liner Rex. It was a strange voyage. This huge floating palace, the pride of Italy‟s merchant marine, carried only a handful of passengers. War‟s automatic blight on pleasure tours, plus our State Department‟s ban on ordinary passports, had dammed the travel flood to the merest trickle. So I sailed from New York on an almost empty boat. First Class on the “Rex” is a miracle of modern luxury. Yet all that splendor was lavished upon precisely twenty-five passengers including myself. Consequently we rattled around in this magnificence like tiny peas in a mammoth pod. A small group of tables in one corner of the spacious dining salon; a short row of reclining-chairs on the long vista of the promenade deck; a pathetic little cluster of seats in the vast ballroom when it was time for the movies—these were the sole evidences of community life. Even the ship‟s company was little in evidence. Save for the few stewards and deck-hands needed to look after us, the rest did not appear. Now and then I would roam about for a long time without seeing a soul. The effect was eery. It was like being on a ghost ship, “Outward Bound” and driven by unseen hands. There was not much to be gleaned from my fellow-passengers. Most of them were Italians, speaking little English and full of their own affairs. A pair of American business men were equally preoccupied. For them, the war was a confounded nuisance. The rapid-fire speech of a Chilean diplomat bound with his family for a European post was too much for my Spanish. The most intriguing person aboard was a lone Japanese who beat everybody at ping-pong but otherwise held himself aloof. Back aft, Tourist Class was even more cosmopolitan, with a solitary American set among a sprinkling of several nationalities, including a young Iraki Arab returning to Bagdad from a course at the University of Chicago. He was a fiery nationalist deeply distrustful of all the European Powers, especially Soviet Russia with its possible designs on the Middle East. In both Tourist and Third Class were a number of Germans, mostly women but three of them men of military age. All were obviously nervous. They had taken the gamble that the “Rex” would not be stopped by the English at Gibraltar, Britain‟s key to the Mediterranean. In that event, the men knew that a concentration camp would be the end of their venturesome attempt to return to the Fatherland. Passing the Straits of Gibraltar is always a memorable experience. This time it was especially impressive. We entered about midafternoon. The sky was full of cloud-masses shot with gleams of watery sunshine. At one moment a magnificent rainbow spanned the broad straits like a mammoth suspension-bridge. On the African shore the jagged sierras of Morocco were draped in mists. By contrast, the mountains of Spain were dappled sunlight, their brown slopes tinted with tender green where the long drought of summer had been tempered by the first autumn rains. At length the massive outline of the Rock of Gibraltar came into view. It got nearer. We forged steadily ahead on our normal course toward the open Mediterranean beyond. Would the British let us pass? Nobody knew but the ship‟s officers, and they wouldn‟t tell. Then, when almost abreast of the Rock, our bow swerved sharply and we swung in past Europa Point. The British were going to give us the once-over! Hastily I climbed to a „vantage-place on the top deck to view what was to come, my Japanese fellow-passenger following suit. As the “Rex” entered Algeciras Bay we could see Gibraltar‟s outer harbor crowded with merchant shipping. When we got closer, I could discern by the big tricolor flags painted on their sides that most of them were Italian. Seven Italian freighters and three liners, all held for inspection. We cast anchor near the “Augustus”, a big beauty on the South American run. As the anchor chain rattled, my fellow-passenger turned to me with a bland Oriental smile. “Very interesting,” he remarked, pointing to the impounded shipping. “Do not think Japanese Government let this happen to our steamers.” We continued to view objectively happenings that did not personally concern us. Not so the bulk of the ship‟s company. The sight of those many impounded ships stirred every Italian aboard. Officers assumed tight-lipped impassivity and stewards shrugged deprecatingly, but sailors gathered in muttering knots while passengers became indignantly vocal, especially as a large naval tender approached us from shore. It was filled with British bluejackets and officers with white caps. I also spotted two military constables, which meant that they were after Germans. As the tender swung alongside just beneath my „vantage-point, a young Italian fellow-passenger strode up and joined us. Since he had already proclaimed himself an ardent Fascist, I was not surprised when he relieved his pent-up feelings with all the vigor of his seventeen years. “Look at all our ships held in here!” he shouted. “Isn‟t it a shame?” I couldn‟t resist a mischievous thought. “Just a little pat of the lion‟s paw,” I put in soothingly. The tease worked to perfection. He fairly exploded. “Lions?” he yelled, shaking his fist. “Insolent dogs, I call them. Just you wait. This war isn‟t over; it‟s only begun. Some fine day, our Duce will give the word. Then we‟ll blast that old rock to smithereens and hand the fragments to our good friend Franco as a gesture of the friendship between our two Latin nations.” This speech set off a sailor who was painting nearby. He joined us, gesticulating with his brush. “I know how the English act,” he growled, “I went through the Ethiopian War. Wouldn‟t I like to drop this paint-brush on that So-and-So‟s head, down there!” That So-and-So was a young British navy officer standing very erect in the tender‟s stern. I shudder to think what might have happened if the sailor had obeyed that impulse. By this time most of the British officers had climbed aboard, so I went below to see what was up. The spacious entrance salon was dotted with spectators. Through the open door of the purser‟s office I could glimpse two Britishers going over the manifest of the ship‟s cargo. Just outside the door, flanked by the constables, stood our three Germans of military age—stocky men in their thirties or early forties. They stood impassive. This stoical pose was perhaps due to the fact that they had been drinking all the afternoon to quiet their nerves, so they should have been pleasantly mulled. Presently they entered the purser‟s office. The interview was short. Out they came, and the constables escorted them downstairs to the lower gangway. I hurried on deck to watch the tender again. It was now dark, but by our ship‟s floodlights I could see some cheap suitcases aboard the tender. Soon a constable climbed down the short rope-ladder; then the three Germans; then the second constable and the British investigation officers. The Germans, clad in raincoats, huddled around their scanty baggage and lit cigarettes. As the tender chugged away, the young officer previously menaced by the paint-brush shouted up to us in crisp British accents: “You can go straight away now!” The ordeal was over. It had lasted less than four hours. With only mail and a bit of express cargo, there was no valid reason for detaining us longer. We were lucky. Some ships with a full loading were held up for days. Anyhow, we promptly weighed anchor and were off. The twinkling lights of Gibraltar Town slipped quickly past and vanished behind Europa Point. The towering heights of the Rock loomed dimly in the sheen of the moon. Then it, too, sank from sight. Approaching Italy, the weather turned symbolic. The last night on board we encountered a violent tempest marked by incessant lightning and crashing thunder. With the dawn a great wind came out of the north, blustering and unseasonably cold. The Bay of Genoa was smartly whitecapped as the giant Rex slid into the harbor and nosed cautiously up to her dock. Historic Genoa, climbing its steep hills against a background of bare mountains, looked as impressive as ever. Yet there was a strange something in the picture which I could not at first make out. Then I realized what it was—an almost Sabbath absence of motion and bustle, though the date was neither a Sunday nor a holiday. Broad parking spaces behind the docks were virtually empty of motor cars, while the streets beyond were devoid of traffic save for trams and horse-drawn vehicles. Civilian Italy was denied gasoline. The precious fluid had been impounded for military purposes. Friends met me at the dock, helped me through customs, and took me to the nearby railroad station in one of the few ancient taxis still permitted to run. At the station I checked my baggage as I was leaving town late that same evening. Apologetically, my friends escorted me to a tram in order to reach their suburban home some miles out. On the way I noted big letters painted on almost every deadwall. “Duce! Duce! Duce”! Such were the triple salutes to Mussolini, endlessly repeated. Less often came the Fascist motto: “Believe! Obey! Fight”! Italy being partly mobilized, I saw many soldiers. Yet, despite all those exhortations, neither soldiers nor civilians appeared to be in a martial mood. On the contrary, they seemed preoccupied, walking for the most part in silence, huddling down into their clothes against recurrent blasts of the chill mountain wind. Once beyond the heart of the city, traffic became even thinner. The few trucks encountered were run by compressed methane gas. I could tell this by the big extra cylinders clamped along their sides. They were like exaggerated copies of the Prestolite tanks I recall from my early motoring days. At dinner that evening my friends and their guests talked freely. “We‟re just getting over a bad attack of jitters,” remarked my American-born hostess. “You should have been here a month and a half ago, when the war began, to realize how things were. At first we feared we were going right in, and expected French bombers over our heads any hour. You know that from our balcony we can glimpse the French coast on a clear day.” “The worst feature was the blackouts,” added my host. “Thank goodness, we don‟t have any more of them. Wait until you get up into Germany. Then you‟ll know what I mean.” “The Italian people doesn‟t want to get into this row,” stated a professional man decisively. “We‟ve been through two wars already—Ethiopia, Spain. That‟s enough fighting for a while.” “If we should intervene later,” broke in a retired naval officer, “it will be strictly for Italian interests. And even then we‟ll get what we want first. No going in on promises. We don‟t forget how we got gypped at Versailles. That won‟t happen a second time.” “I must apologize for not serving you real coffee,” said my hostess. “But this “Mokkari”, made from roasted rice, isn‟t so bad. You know we can‟t get coffee from South America any more on a barter basis and we mustn‟t lose any gold or foreign exchange in times like these except for imports vitally needed.” “As a matter of fact,” put in a guest, “we could have a small coffee ration from what we get in from Ethiopia. But that coffee is very high grade and brings a fancy price on the world market. So the Government sells it all abroad to get more foreign exchange.” “We‟ve been systematically learning to do without luxury imports ever since the League sanctions against us during the Ethiopian War,” said my host. “You‟d be surprised to learn how self-sufficient we have become.” “Autarchy,” stated the retired naval officer sententiously, “is a good idea. Puts a nation on its toes. Makes more work. Stimulates invention. Of course we can‟t do it a hundred per cent. But the nearer we can come to it, the better.” During the railroad journey from Genoa to the German border, my social contacts were scanty. Fellow-travelers were Italians, and my knowledge of that tongue is far too sketchy for intelligent conversation. Still, I found an army officer who spoke French and a business man who knew German. The army officer was an optimist, due largely to his faith in Mussolini. “Our Duce is a smart man,” he said emphatically. “He‟s keeping us out of that war up north because he knows it isn‟t our fight. Not yet, at any rate. Should conditions change, I‟m sure he‟s smart enough to pick the right side for us.” Ideologies evidently didn‟t bother him. In his eyes it was just another war. The business man was equally unconcerned with ideals but did not share the officer‟s optimism. “This is a crazy war,” he growled. “I can‟t see how the leaders on either side let it happen. They ought to have had sense enough to make some compromise, knowing as they should what it will probably mean. If it goes on even two years, business everywhere will be hopelessly undermined and may be nationalized. If it lasts as long as the other war, all Europe will be in chaos. Not organized Communism. Just plain anarchy.” “Won‟t Italy gain commercially by staying neutral?” I inquired. “Oh, yes,” he shrugged. “We‟re doing new business already and we‟ll get more. But we‟ll lose all our war-profits and then some in the post-war deflation.” He sighed heavily and looked out of the window at the autumn landscape flitting by. A number of Germans boarded the train at Verona. I later found out that they were vacationists returning from a short trip to Venice. Typical Hansi tourists they were—the men with round, close-cropped heads; the women painfully plain, as the North German female of the species is apt to be. I presently engaged one of the men in conversation. He complimented me on my German and was interested to learn that I was bound his way. “You‟ll find things surprisingly normal in Germany, considering it‟s wartime,” he told me. “Though of course, coming straight from your peaceful, prosperous America, you won‟t like some aspects of our life. Blackouts and foodcards, for instance. Even so, I‟m glad to be going home. Italy‟s a lovely country, but it isn‟t “Gemuetlich”. The Italians don‟t like us and make us feel it. At least, the people here in Northern Italy do. Further south, I‟m told they are not so anti-German.” By this time our train had entered the region formerly called South Tyrol, annexed to Italy at the close of the World War. Despite two decades of Italianization, the basic Germanism of the region was still visible, from the chalet-like peasant farmsteads to the crenelated ruins of old castles perched high on crags, where Teutonic knights once held sway. I had known South Tyrol before 1914 when it was part of Austria, so I was interested to see what changes had taken place. Even from my car window I could see abundant evidences of Italian colonization. All the new buildings were in Italian style, and Latin faces were numerous among the crowds of Third-Class passengers who got on and off at every stop. The stations swarmed with soldiers, police, and Carabinieri in their picturesque black cutaway coats and big cocked hats. The German tourists viewed all this in heavy silence. It was clear they did not wish to discuss the painful subject. As the train wound its way up the mountain-girt valley of the Adige, the weather grew colder. Long before we reached Bolzano, the ground was sprinkled with snow—most unusual south of the Brenner in late October. It was the first chill breath of the hardest winter in a generation, which war-torn Europe was destined to undergo. The mountains on either hand were well blanketed with white. Bolzano (formerly Botzen) is a big town, the provincial capital and the administrative center. Here, Italianization had evidently made great strides. Large new factories had been built, manned by Italian labor. The colonists were housed in great blocks of modern tenements, forming an entire new quarter. On the walls were inscribed in giant letters: “Thanks, Duce!” There must be a big garrison, for the old Austrian barracks had been notably enlarged. They bore Mussolini‟s famous statement: “Frontiers are not discussed; they are defended!” When we had reached Bolzano, the autumn dusk was falling. As we waited at the station, a gigantic sign on a nearby hill blazed suddenly forth, in electric light, the Latin word “Dux”. When the train started its long upward pull to the Brenner Pass, the snowfields on the high mountains to the north were rosy with the Alpine-glow. The crest of the historic Brenner Pass is the frontier between Italy and Germany. It is likewise the dividing-line between peace and war. To the south lies Italy, armed and watchful but neutral and hence relatively normal. To the north lies Germany, a land absorbed in a life-and-death struggle with powerful foes. The traveler entering Germany plunges into war‟s grim shadow the instant he passes that mountain gateway. I crossed the Brenner at night, so I encountered that most startling aspect of wartime Germany—the universal blackout. All the way up the Italian side of the range, towns and villages blazed with electric light furnished by abundant water-power. Also my train compartment was brilliantly illuminated. There was thus no preparation for what was soon to happen. Shortly before reaching the frontier two members of the German border police came through the train collecting passports. Being still in Italy, they were in civilian clothes, their rank indicated solely by swastika arm bands. They were not an impressive pair. One was small and thin, with a foxy face. The other, big and burly, had a pasty complexion and eyes set too close together. At Brennero, the Italian frontier station where Hitler and Mussolini were later to meet, the German train-crew came aboard. The new conductor‟s first act was to come into my compartment and pull down the window-shades. Then in came the official charged with examining your luggage and taking down your money declaration. In contrast to the border police, he was a fine figure of a man—ruddy face, blue eyes, turned-up blond mustache, and a well-fitting gray uniform. After a brief and courteous inspection he stated crisply: “Only blue light allowed.” Thereupon the brilliant electric globes in my compartment were switched off, and there was left merely a tiny crescent of blue light, far smaller than the emergency bulbs in our subway trains. So scant was the illumination that it did little more than emphasize the darkness. Had it not been for a dimmed yellow bulb in the train corridor, it would have been almost impossible to make my way around. <strong>...</strong></p>