The Moralization of History in an Age of Political Reaction
Katja Hoyer’s recent essay, 'From Housemaid to Camp Guard,'
examines how ordinary people can commit acts of evil. Although it appears to emphasise
the role of structural and systemic factors in fascist violence, it actually
highlights a broader tendency in modern popular history. This trend reduces
intricate political and economic dynamics into moral tales, psychological
stories, and personal biographies.
This approach—blaming individuals for historical guilt—is
more than style; it’s an ideological tactic. It transforms fascism from a
consequence of capitalist crises into an ongoing moral danger concealed within
“ordinary people.” This method replaces analysis with emotion, structural
understanding with narrative, and class with personal characteristics. In
effect, it strips away political context from history, prioritising a
moralistic story over deeper explanation.
Hoyer’s essay is more than merely inadequate; it reflects a
wider cultural and political change: the erosion of historical awareness amid
capitalist decline, the dominance of platform-driven “content" replacing
traditional historiography, and the ruling class's ideological effort to
depoliticise history when its lessons are most critical.
Biography as Ideology: The Retreat from Structure
Hoyer’s essay centres on a biographical case study featuring
Hermine Braunsteiner, infamous as the “Stomping Mare” of Majdanek. It presents
her as a complex psychological figure—a troubling progression from a domestic
worker to a camp guard. The reader is invited to reflect on her “choices,” her
“path," and her “transformation.” The narrative’s structure seeks to
provoke moral reflection rather than enhance political understanding.
This emphasis on biography is widespread beyond Hoyer and is
typical in popular history, especially during political backlash. Incorporating
biographical anecdotes allows historians to suggest complexity without engaging
in detailed structural analysis. It also enables readers to feel morally
connected without tackling the political economy of fascism. Consequently, this
approach shifts the perception of perpetrators from systemic actors to
psychological curiosities.
This mode highlights what a materialist historiography would
emphasise: the class makeup of the SS, the economic issues in Depression-era
Austria and Germany, the gender-specific recruitment tactics of the Nazi
regime, the backing of fascism by German financial elites, and the Federal
Republic's effort to rehabilitate camp staff after WWII. Braunsteiner’s life
isn't a moral lesson; rather, it's a case study illustrating how capitalism mobilises,
disciplines, and weaponises human labour during crises. Conversely, Hoyer’s
approach conceals this underlying reality.
The Arendtian Legacy: Banality Without Structure
Hoyer’s framing—“ordinary people doing evil things”—directly
draws from the Arendtian tradition. However, while Hannah Arendt’s work engaged
with the mechanisms of the totalitarian regime, Hoyer’s interpretation is a
simplified, moralised version that lacks political context. Arendt’s concept of
the “banality of evil” shifted focus from ideological extremism to bureaucratic
normality, paving the way for a psychological view of fascism: viewing evil as
thoughtlessness, obedience, and conformity. Nonetheless, Arendt’s own writings
remain ambivalent, caught between philosophical ideas and specific historical
circumstances.
Hoyer retains only the abstract concept. She transforms the
banal evil into a universal moral risk, making fascism a constant human
potential. The reader is encouraged to worry about the weakness of conscience
rather than capitalism's crisis. The structural causes of fascism—the breakdown
of parliamentary democracy, the rise of paramilitary violence, and the
Nazi-industrial alliance—disappear from view. Arendt’s complex ideas are
reduced to evasions in Hoyer’s approach.
Goldhagen’s Shadow: Voluntarism Without Politics
If Arendt explained fascism as arising from thoughtlessness,
Daniel Goldhagen attributed it to deliberate hatred. His argument—that ordinary
Germans were “willing executioners” motivated by a distinct eliminationist
anti-Semitism—shifts focus from structural causes to cultural essentialism.
Hoyer’s story echoes this voluntarist perspective. Braunsteiner’s actions are
portrayed as personal decisions, moral lapses, or a psychological decline.
Readers are encouraged to consider her cruelty as an individual moral failure
rather than a consequence of systemic factors.
Goldhagen’s voluntarism, similar to Arendt’s concept of
banality, serves an ideological purpose: it shifts blame away from the ruling
class. When fascism is attributed to hatred or thoughtlessness, the influence
of the capital, state, and military vanishes from the explanation. This directs
attention to the perpetrators while rendering the systemic structures unseen.
Hoyer’s essay exemplifies this pattern, presenting more than just a moral
story; it functions as a form of political avoidance.
A materialist approach to the
history of fascism starts with class analysis. Fascism is not an ethical
anomaly but a class-based tactic. It emerges when the ruling elite can no
longer maintain power through parliamentary channels and resort to extra-parliamentary
violence to oppress workers. In this view, Braunsteiner’s life is understood
not as a psychological mystery but as a product of structural forces: her
recruitment into the SS was driven by the economic hardship faced by
working-class women in Depression-era Austria. Her participation in the camp
system was part of a bureaucratic setup designed to enforce racialised labour
discipline. Her later anonymity in Queens was preserved by the political
interests of the Federal Republic, which reabsorbed thousands of fascist
affiliates to uphold bourgeois stability.
Hoyer’s essay does not include any of these aspects. It
omits the class character of fascism, the Nazi state's political economy, and
the connection between fascist and postwar bourgeois institutions. As a result,
the narrative tends to psychologize, moralise, and personalise fascism, but it
never explains.
Substack as Historiographical Medium
Katja Hoyer’s recent work is deeply connected to its medium.
Her Substack newsletter, Zeitgeist, functions not just as a platform but as a
historiographical form influenced by platform capitalism's economic principles.
Substack's subscription model—personality-driven, serial, and emotionally
tuned—encourages trends that have diminished the quality of popular historical
writing in the neoliberal age: favouring anecdotes over analysis, moral
reflection over structural insights, and psychological storytelling over
political economy.
Substack turns the historian into a personal brand.
Subscribers follow not just for historical facts, but for the persona the
historian projects. The historian’s voice becomes the main attraction, with the
past serving as a setting for its display. This change is deliberate and
structural, driven by the platform’s need for frequent content, which limits
in-depth archival work and promotes episodic stories. Its focus on emotional
connection prioritises moral stories—like “chilling” lives, “ordinary”
individuals, and “extreme” decisions—over meaningful analysis of class,
government, or capitalism.
Hoyer’s essays exemplify this approach well. They follow a
steady pattern: starting with a biographical hook, then providing a
psychological perspective, and concluding with a gentle liberal lesson. The
past is depicted more as a mood to be experienced than as a political process.
Fascism is portrayed as a moral issue rather than a class strategy. The GDR is
shown as a nostalgic scene rather than a state with a specific social identity.
The Cold War is described through human-interest stories rather than as a
global clash of social systems.
This is more than just a stylistic choice; it serves an
ideological purpose inherent to the medium. Substack’s favoured format—the
serialised moral story—personalises historical responsibility, exaggerates
dangers universally, and omits structural causality. This creates a sense of
history that is emotionally comprehensible yet politically passive. It caters
to a middle-class audience that desires engagement without discomfort,
reflection without critique, and memory that avoids political implications.
Hoyer’s choice of Substack highlights more than her personal
approach; it underscores a wider shift in historical writing driven by platform
capitalism. This shift turns history into consumable content, transforms the
historian into an influencer, and frames historical awareness as a commodity
that serves the ideological demands of a crisis-ridden era.
Substack and the Rebranding of “Ordinary Germans”
Substack has become a key platform where modern writers
reshape German history for a mostly Anglo-American global audience. Its
economic model—focused on subscriptions, personality, and a lack of emphasis on
political economy—creates a particular type of historical storytelling. It’s no
surprise that Katja Hoyer’s work thrives here, as Substack favours interpretive
approaches like anecdotal storytelling, moral psychology, and replacing
structural causes with personal narratives.
The platform’s format influences its content. Substack
essays tend to be short, emotional, and easy to read quickly. They aren't
suited for in-depth analysis of class struggles, government institutions, or
fascism’s political economy. Instead, they focus on personal stories—like the
housemaid, the neighbour, or the nostalgic pensioner—as the primary units of
historical significance. The “ordinary German” becomes a storytelling device
and a moral figure whose life is summarised in 1,500 words, ending with a
gentle liberal lesson about “choices,” “complexity,” or “human nature.”
This isn’t merely a stylistic choice but reflects the
medium's ideological role. Substack’s favoured narrative approach tends to
individualise historical accountability, turning fascist perpetrators into
psychological riddles rather than recognising them as parts of a systemic
structure. It broadens the concept of danger—suggesting that “ordinary people
can become monsters”—while overlooking the specific class interests, state
mechanisms, and economic crises that fuelled the Nazi movement. This shift
replaces the political inquiry (“Why did German capital embrace fascism?”) with
a moral one (“Why did this woman commit evil acts?”).
In this manner, Substack engages in the larger framework of
memory capitalism: transforming the past into easily consumable content that
lacks opposition. The “ordinary German” is transformed into a brand category, a
narrative archetype enabling the platform to evoke emotional responses without
provoking political tensions. The audience is encouraged to experience history
emotionally rather than to comprehend it. Consequently, the past is presented
as a mood rather than a coherent structure.
Hoyer’s utilisation of Substack is therefore purposeful. It
highlights how platform capitalism shapes historical understanding, creating a
portrayal of German history in which fascism is moralised, depoliticised, and
disconnected from contemporary issues. The “ordinary German” becomes a warning
rather than an active participant in a specific social context. This creates a
story that is emotionally powerful, politically vague, and closely aligned with
the ideological demands of a society in turmoil.
Hoyer’s success in Britain is closely
tied to her supportive environment, including outlets like The Spectator,
UnHerd, TLS, The Observer, and the broader liberal-conservative commentariat.
This scene favours a style of historical writing that is accessible, impartial,
and devoid of ideological conflicts. In this framework, Weimar is seen as a
symbol of "polarisation" rather than a sign of capitalism’s failure.
The GDR is perceived more as a nostalgic scene than a state defined by specific
class traits. Fascism is framed as a cautionary tale against 'extremism,'
rather than a tool used by the ruling class. History is approached as
entertainment, not as a platform for critique. Hoyer’s work aligns with this
environment, providing German history that is politics-free, memory without
hostility, and narratives without causal explanations.
The emphasis on individual guilt in history today serves a
contemporary purpose. By portraying fascism as the moral failure of “ordinary
people,” the historian diverts blame from the capitalist class that financed
Hitler, the state bodies involved in genocide, the postwar governments that
reintegrated fascist figures, and the current ruling elite again embracing
militarism. This explains why such narratives spread—they enable people to feel
morally involved while sidestepping political accountability. They foster guilt
without encouraging critical analysis, promote self-reflection without
critique, and evoke memory without considering historical context.
Consequently, Hoyer’s essay is not just lacking; it actively functions
politically by supporting the ongoing effort to depoliticise history, aligning
with the rightward shift in European politics.
Serious historiography aims to explain the past, not
moralise about it. Fascism isn’t merely a psychological temptation; it is a
class phenomenon that emerges from capitalist crises, not human nature. Specific
institutions enable it, not personal choices. Preventing its recurrence
requires conscious political action by the working class. Hoyer’s essay, along
with its broader trend, obscures this understanding by substituting explanation
with anecdote, structure with story, and politics with morality. This shifts
fascism from a concrete product of capitalist crisis into a timeless moral
hazard. In contrast, a materialist historiography emphasises that understanding
the past is essential to addressing the present, warning against the
ideological trap of individualising guilt.
Sources and Bibliography
I. Academic Sources on Memory, Capitalism, and Media
- Pilkington,
Danny. Myopic Memory: Capitalism’s New Continuity in the Age of AI.
Memory, Mind & Media, Vol. 3 (2024). A commentary on how
neoliberalism and capitalist technological development constrain social
memory and critical reflection.
- Erll,
Astrid; Rigney, Ann; Wüstenberg, Jenny (eds.). Dynamics, Mediation, Mobilisation:
Doing Memory Studies With Ann Rigney. De Gruyter, 2025. A major
contribution to the study of mediated memory and its political uses.
- Rigney,
Ann & Merrill, Samuel (eds.). Remembering Activism: Explorations in
the Memory–Activism Nexus. Memory Studies, 17(5), 2024.
Explores how memory is mobilised in contemporary political contexts.
- Chidgey,
Red & Garde-Hansen, Joanne. Museums, Archives and Protest Memory.
Palgrave Macmillan, 2024. Useful for understanding institutional mediation
of memory.
- Reading,
Anna. Autistic Dreaming: Vibrant Memory, Activism and Environment.
Berghahn, 2025. A study of memory practices under contemporary social
conditions.
- Erbil,
Deniz; Rigney, Ann; Vlessing, Clara (eds.). Remembering Contentious
Lives. Palgrave Macmillan, 2025. On the politics of remembering
individuals within broader social conflicts.
II. Sources on Memory Culture, Digital Platforms, and
Substack
- The
Memory Palace (Substack). A Substack publication dedicated to the
philosophy of memory, illustrating how academic memory discourse is
migrating to platform‑based media.
- Hoskins,
Andrew. Digital Memory Studies: Media Pasts in Transition.
Routledge, 2018. Foundational for understanding how digital platforms
reshape historical consciousness.
- van
Dijck, José. The Culture of Connectivity: A Critical History of Social
Media. Oxford University Press, 2013. Essential for situating Substack
within the broader political economy of platform capitalism.
- Couldry,
Nick & Mejias, Ulises. The Costs of Connection: How Data Is Colonising
Human Life and Appropriating It for Capitalism. Stanford University
Press, 2019. Critical for theorising how platforms commodify human
expression, including historical narrative.
- Dean,
Jodi. Blog Theory: Feedback and Capture in the Circuits of Drive.
Polity, 2010. A theoretical precursor to understanding Substack’s
affective economy.
III. Historiography, Fascism, and the “Ordinary Germans”
Debate
- Arendt,
Hannah. Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil.
Penguin, 1963. The foundational text for the “ordinary people doing evil”
paradigm.
- Goldhagen,
Daniel. Hitler’s Willing Executioners: Ordinary Germans and the
Holocaust. Knopf, 1996. The most influential voluntarist
interpretation of perpetrator agency.
- Browning,
Christopher. Ordinary Men: Reserve Police Battalion 101 and the Final
Solution in Poland. HarperCollins, 1992. The classic empirical
counterpoint to Goldhagen, grounding perpetrator behaviour in situational
and structural factors.
- Aly,
Götz. Hitler’s Beneficiaries: Plunder, Racial War, and the Nazi Welfare
State. Metropolitan Books, 2007. Shows how material incentives and
class interests shaped popular complicity.
- Kershaw,
Ian. The Nazi Dictatorship: Problems and Perspectives of Interpretation.
Bloomsbury, 2015. Essential for situating “ordinary Germans” within
structural historiography.
- North,
David. A Marxist Critique of Daniel Goldhagen’s “Hitler’s Willing
Executioners.” Detroit: Mehring Books, 1997.
IV. Sources on German Memory Politics and Popular History
- Moeller,
Robert G. War Stories: The Search for a Usable Past in the Federal
Republic of Germany. University of California Press, 2001. On postwar
memory politics and the construction of “ordinary German” narratives.
- Niven,
Bill. The Politics of Memory in Postwar Europe. Palgrave Macmillan,
2006. Useful for contextualising contemporary German memory culture.
- Confino,
Alon. A World Without Jews: The Nazi Imagination from Persecution to
Genocide. Yale University Press, 2014. On the ideological and cultural
dimensions of Nazi violence.
V. Sources on Media, Narrative, and the Commodification
of History
- Huyssen,
Andreas. Present Pasts: Urban Palimpsests and the Politics of Memory.
Stanford University Press, 2003. A foundational text for understanding
memory as a cultural commodity.
- Assmann,
Aleida. Cultural Memory and Western Civilisation: Functions, Media,
Archives. Cambridge University Press, 2011. On the mediation and institutionalisation
of memory.
- Garde-Hansen,
Joanne. Media and Memory. Edinburgh University Press, 2011. A
concise overview of how media forms shape historical consciousness.
- Olick,
Jeffrey K. The Politics of Regret: On Collective Memory and Historical
Responsibility. Routledge, 2007. Essential for understanding the
moralization of historical guilt.
VI. Sources on Platform Capitalism and Digital Labour
- Srnicek,
Nick. Platform Capitalism. Polity, 2017. The definitive analysis of
the economic logic underpinning platforms like Substack.
- Zuboff,
Shoshana. The Age of Surveillance Capitalism. PublicAffairs, 2019.
On how digital platforms commodify human behaviour and expression.
- Terranova,
Tiziana. Network Culture: Politics for the Information Age. Pluto
Press, 2004. A foundational text on digital labour and cultural
production.
VII. Suggested Primary Sources for Katja Hoyer’s Work
(These are not cited from search; they are standard
bibliographic entries.)
- Hoyer,
Katja. Blood and Iron: The Rise and Fall of the German Empire 1871–1918.
Penguin, 2021.
- Hoyer,
Katja. Beyond the Wall: East Germany, 1949–1990. Penguin, 2023.
- Hoyer,
Katja. Zeitgeist (Substack newsletter).
- Hoyer,
Katja. Various essays in The Spectator, UnHerd, The
Telegraph, etc.
VIII. Integration Notes for a Further Essay
These sources support:
- Memory
capitalism →
Pilkington (2024), Erll/Rigney (2025), Hoskins (2018), van Dijck (2013).
- Substack
as historiographical medium →
Dean (2010), Srnicek (2017), Zuboff (2019).
- Individualisation
of historical guilt →
Arendt (1963), Goldhagen (1996), Browning (1992), Olick (2007).
- Ordinary
Germans debate →
Kershaw, Aly, Confino.
- German
memory politics →
Moeller, Niven.
- Media
and memory →
Assmann, Garde-Hansen, Huyssen.
