Jeffrey K Wilson

From the late eighteenth century, Germans increasingly identified the fate of their nation with that of their woodlands. A variety of groups soon mobilized the 'German forest' as a national symbol, though often in ways that suited their own social, economic, and political interests. The German Forest is the first book-length history of the development and contestation of the concept of 'German' woodlands.Jeffrey K. Wilson challenges the dominant interpretation that German connections to nature were based in agrarian romanticism rather than efforts at modernization. He explores a variety of conflicts over the symbol - from demands on landowners for public access to woodlands, to state attempts to integrate ethnic Slavs into German culture through forestry, and radical nationalist visions of woodlands as a model for the German 'race'. Through impressive primary and archival research, Wilson demonstrates that in addition to uniting Germans, the forest as a national symbol could also serve as a vehicle for protest and strife

Widely vaunted in the nineteenth century as a national symbol, der deutsche Wald (the German forest) has been cast in a harshly negative light. The radical, völkisch nationalists’ embrace of the woods—an Urwald (primeval forest) inhabited by rooted peasants descended from tree-worshiping Teutonic warriors—supposedly attested to Germany’s atavism, irrationality, and flight from modernity.¹ Yet scholars recently have become skeptical of modernity itself, recognizing its ambivalent nature. Rather than believing a deficit of modernity lead to fascism, historians have concentrated their attention on the ways that the embrace of modernity contributed to the catastrophes of the twentieth century.² The

The Tuchel Heath (Tucheler Heide, Bóry Tucholskie) and Kashubia (Kassubei, Kaszuby), the two regions comprising the geographical region known as Pomerelia (roughly the area of the “Polish Corridor”), came into Prussian possession with annexations from Poland in 1772, when Friedrich II seized most of what would become the provinces of Poznania and West Prussia from the ailing Polish Republic. These territories, some liked to imagine, resembled the North American frontier. Friedrich II apparently compared it to Canada and “jokingly named the inhabitants his Iroquois.” Gustav Freytag immortalized Friedrich's arrival on the frontier in his work Bilder aus der deutschen Vergangenheit, characterizing the place as “an abandoned land, without law, without authority; it was a wasteland.” Certainly, the harsh climate, the sprawling pine forests and barrens, and the impoverished populace suggested a certain affinity. In one description of the region from 1879, the author depicted the Slavic game poacher “as a red Indian on the warpath.”

Germany has a long history of political fragmentation, with regional (Heimat) identities playing a critical role in the formation of the national consciousness. The process of rallying local identities to the nation is being examined in the western parts of Germany, but the east remains largely unexplored. Addressing this issue is important because studies of the Heimat movement have challenged received notions about the character of nationalism in imperial Germany. This article illustrates the special challenges Heimat activists-especially Hugo Conwentz-faced in fashioning a regional identity in the German east, and compares their efforts to those in the west.