Sönke Neitzel's Examination of Bundeswehr's Historical Legacy Raises Controversy

The recent publication by Sönke Neitzel, titled Die Bundeswehr. Von der Wiederbewaffnung bis zur Zeitenwende, has ignited a significant debate regarding the historical connections between the Bundeswehr and the Wehrmacht. This book reflects on the German military's evolution from its post-World War II formation to its modern-day role, but critics argue that it glosses over important historical truths.

One of the central points of contention in Neitzel's narrative arises from the discussion surrounding the naming of military barracks. Neitzel devotes substantial attention to the Bundeswehr's deployments, particularly focusing on operations in Afghanistan. However, when addressing the military's historical context and its tradition management, the author is accused of presenting a reductive viewpoint. Critics highlight that Neitzel's portrayal suggests that the Bundeswehr emerged without historical precedents, an interpretation that overlooks the complexities of Germany's military past.

Neitzel's arguments suggest a disconnect from the historical reality that the Bundeswehr did not form in a vacuum. The concept of creation ex nihilo, typically associated with theological discourse, does not apply to military history, which is characterized by continuities and disruptions. This oversight leads to a narrative that some believe serves to excuse the Bundeswehr's ongoing ties to Wehrmacht traditions.

In his analysis, Neitzel references the Personalgutachterausschuss (PGA), an advisory committee from 1955 to 1957 created to ensure the Bundeswehr's leadership was free from individuals with Nazi-era affiliations. He claims that there were no notable offenders among the Bundeswehr's wartime veterans; however, this assertion overlooks significant figures like Admiral Rolf Johannesson, who played controversial roles during the Nazi regime.

Neitzel's examination of the historical names associated with military installations, such as those linked to World War I figures Georg Bruchmüller and Konrad Krafft von Dellmensingen, also raises eyebrows. Critics note that Bruchmüller's military successes were often romanticized, and his association with chemical warfare is not adequately addressed. Meanwhile, Krafft von Dellmensingen's documented antisemitism, which only gained wider recognition following recent studies, is presented in a manner that implies the Bundeswehr proactively removed problematic names, which critics argue is misleading.

The ongoing dispute regarding the naming of barracks, particularly those named after figures like Generaloberst Eduard Dietl, illustrates the complexities surrounding the Bundeswehr's traditions. Neitzel claims the argument over the Dietl barracks began in the late 1980s; however, he omits key historical events and decisions made by military leaders, including the rejection of naming the barracks after Dietl due to his controversial military record.

Critics also point out that Neitzel's work fails to acknowledge the gradual evolution of public sentiment and institutional responses regarding the military's ties to its past. While he asserts that the understanding of these traditions has only gained traction in the 1990s, earlier inquiries and studies were already underway, reflecting a growing awareness of the need for historical accountability.

Moreover, the author neglects to mention positive examples of naming initiatives that honor figures such as Feldwebel Anton Schmid, a recognized symbol of resistance, and Hans Scholl, a leader of the White Rose movement. These names reflect a commitment to values that resonate with contemporary democratic principles.

In conclusion, while Neitzel's exploration of the Bundeswehr's historical legacy is a significant contribution to the discourse surrounding military traditions, it raises essential questions about the representation of history, accountability, and the ongoing influence of past ideologies on the modern German armed forces.