One could be a Nazi without ever seeing or thinking about Jews

It irked me that nobody in England seemed to grasp that Nazism had been about building a new world order based on the noble ideals I still found so satisfying. For it had not taken me many weeks in the country to discover that the English definition of Nazi could be summed up in a single word, ‘Jew-gasser’. That was so misguided, such a mistake. Yes, we were taught to despise Jews, but what English people didn’t seem to appreciate was that for Nazis like me everything to do with Jews had been a minor issue, that one could be a Nazi without ever seeing or thinking about Jews.

K. Fitzherbert, True to both my selves (1997), loc. 3630

I think about these kind of things a lot. The ability to see things selectively without even trying is underappreciated in historical (and political) analysis.

Yet the deepest longing of Germans at the time ... was for the restoration of their national pride and recognition in the eyes of the world.

My family’s involvement with Nazism – their first excursion into any kind of politics – was not inspired by hatred of Jews, but by the vision of national revival that Hitler held out to them. ‘You have no idea what a terrible mood of disillusion and defeat there was in Germany before Hitler appeared on the scene and how he turned that round to one of optimism and hope,’ was my mother’s overriding memory of those days. Hitler had an uncanny instinct for touching the button of the innermost yearnings of the German heart. He promised most groups in society – an unhappy society, with a suicide rate three times that of Britain’s at the time – the things they craved: jobs, prosperity, security. Yet the deepest longing of Germans at the time, one that was apparently shared by most of the population, including my mother, was for the restoration of their national pride and recognition in the eyes of the world.

K. Fitzherbert, True to both my selves (1997), loc. 595

Heresies to others, they were of course orthodox in their own eyes

Christ was the Son of God. All agreed. But what was the Nature of Christ? The subtle Alexandrian intellect asked this question about the year 300, and the Arian heresy was the result. It asked it again about 400 and produced the Monophysite heresy. And a third query about 600 produced a third heresy, the Monothelite. Let us glance at these three in turn. Heresies to others, they were of course orthodox in their own eyes. Each believed itself the only interpreter of the link that binds God to Man.

E.M. Forester, Alexandria (1922), 43

The man who created and the woman who lost Alexandria have one element in common: monumental greatness

Yet for all their differences, the man who created and the woman who lost Alexandria have one element in common: monumental greatness; and between them is suspended, like a rare and fragile chain, the dynasty of the Ptolemies. It is a dynasty much censored by historians, but the Egyptians, who lived under it, were more tolerant. For it had one element of greatness: it did represent the complex country that it ruled. In Upper Egypt it carried on the tradition of the Pharaohs: on the coast it was Hellenistic and in touch with Mediterranean culture. After its extinction, the vigour of Alexandria turns inwards. She is to do big things in philosophy and religion. But she is no longer the capital of a kingdom, no longer Royal.

E.M. Forester, Alexandria (1922), 17

Greek accents—another doubtful boon—were also invented in the Mouseion

Hitherto the Greek language had developed unnoticed. Now it was consciously examined, and the result of the examination was the first Greek Grammar (about 100 B.C.). Grammar is a valuable subject but also a dangerous one, for it naturally attracts pedants and schoolmasters and all who think that Literature is an affair of rules. And the Grammarians of Alexandria forgot that they were merely codifying the usages of the past, and presumed to dictate to the present, and to posterity; they set a bad example that has been followed for nearly 2000 years. Greek accents—another doubtful boon—were also invented in the Mouseion. Indeed the whole of literary scholarship, as we know it, sprang up, including that curious by-product the Scholarly Joke.

E.M. Forester, Alexandria (1922), 22

Patronage is the glue that holds many fragile societies together

Domestic reformers and international activists are caught in a trap: policies that eliminate elite privileges and corruption are noble and well-intentioned, but in the short term they could increase political violence. Patronage is the glue that holds many fragile societies together. Ignoring this fact—pursuing anti-corruption or full democratization blind to the incentives of powerful armed actors—can risk a return to war. We forget this at great risk.

C. Blattman, Why we fight (2022), loc. 4292

No, no, no. I was talking about the treaty with Michael Collins in 1921

Adams and McGuinness came into Downing Street. They came down the long corridor that takes you to the cabinet room at the end of the building. And I brought them into the room and took them round to the far side of the table with the windows behind them. And in an attempt to break the ice, Martin McGuinness put his hands on the back of the chair and said, “So this is where the damage was done, then?” I was horrified. I said, “Yes. The IRA mortars landed in the garden behind you. The windows blew in. My brother, who was with John Major at the time, dragged him under the table to get him away from the falling glass.” And he looked horrified and said, “No, no, no. I was talking about the treaty with Michael Collins in 1921.” It was a completely different sense of history on the two sides. You had to break through this to have any chance of getting an understanding.

C. Blattman, Why we fight (2022), loc. 4078