Es Geloybte Aretz - a Germanwank

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The contrast between Ostafrika's coastal cities (dominated by Arab elites and Germanophone migrant workers and surrounded by cash-cropping farmers) and its tribal hinterland will be a serious liability for the future.

Meta: not canon:

Theavonharbouhaven, Tanganyika Freistaat, 27 July 1957
Vice President: Spaceman?
Chief Scientist: SPE-CI-MEN.
RIP Sam Shepard
 
Would you be familiar with Abraham Maslow's 1943 "A Theory of Human Motivation" a.k.a. the pyramid of human needs ?

I've been exposed to a sketch of the idea in a high school psych survey class, certainly. But my impression is that Maslow was a liberal-progressive whose perspective was that since people who are struggling to meet basic needs cannot be expected to engage in higher ethics, it follows that it is the responsibility of a society that has enough surplus wealth to provide for classes that can afford higher-level morals, to share the wealth and strategically employ their more favored members to uplift the conditions of the less well off so that they too can see the bigger picture--then one can have an enlightened democracy functioning on the basis of higher ethics. For the more fortunate to choose otherwise, in my personal opinion (assuming Maslow should be interpreted to mean that the lower classes just can't have higher ethics, which I suspect is a gross oversimplification) is for them to nullify their own claims to a specially better standard--to in fact lower themselves below the level of the desperate who have no choice, and would be justification for overthrowing them as ruling classes and accept the consequences of mass democracy, ready or not, since the "betters" do no better anyway.

Trying to square this perspective, accepted only as a stipulation for debate by me right now, with questions of the possible benefits of war and your association with a "Konservative" revolution, is taking me to some very dark places indeed!

By the way it is of course unclear what you mean by "Conservative revolution" anyway. In this thread's context you could be referring to the next decade or so of Wilhelm III's postwar Reich which we've been told is going rightward for a while, and that the line the upcoming leadership will adopt is that the recent war they just had was a good thing for Germany somehow--despite the fact that most of their actions are "cleaning up" changes in German society they think are unfortunate, and trying to restore the status quo ante, or something even more reactionary they think would be even better.

But my first thought was that you are talking about a Conservative revolution that is either coming or is underway right now in Euro-American societies, in the First World generally, and that we in our little liberal-progressive bubble here at AH have not seen the light of Conservative wisdom just because we haven't got the word yet.

Funny thing about that though--I grew up in a pretty right wing family myself here in the USA, and at a time when the first President I remember from personal memory was Nixon, and we've had a pretty vigorous right wing backlash striving for sweeping transformations, and agitating at great length and volume against the wrongness of liberal progressivism and worse, pretty much all my life. In Britain it is pretty hard to go farther to the Right than Maggie Thatcher, who became PM while I was in early high school, without becoming an outright racist and general bigot quite openly. So maybe there is even more success for the Conservative Revolution, if that is what you mean by it rather than referring to something embedded in carlton_bach's TL, coming over the near horizon, but I don't expect it to teach me anything except that my early perception that conservatives (so-called, real conservatives like say J.R.R. Tolkien might be something else) are generally barbaric and mean people. Who rejoice and call good obvious and egregious evils.

Anyway, how to piece in your oblique reference to Maslow with your oblique reference to a "Conservative revolution" making war look less unambiguously bad takes me to scary places. Stipulating for the moment that Maslow meant to say that people who have not met the full set of essential biological needs cannot be looked to for employing higher ethics and must prioritize whatever benefits them toward the goal of survival, that refers to individual people and to to classes. It cannot refer to an entire society, because every society has elites whose personal hierarchy of basic material needs have in fact been met--they should be able to see things differently than the masses who serve them, and direct things otherwise than a democracy of the desperate would. This is true of the poorest and most desperate societies on Earth. And Germany, in this TL at this point, is at a far higher point of being able to satisfy the general human needs of her entire population, even the poorest. If millions in post-war Germany here are starving or otherwise in desperate material want, it is because of the greed and lack of generosity of those who style themselves "betters." Maslow would be voting for the SPD here, I'm pretty sure.

Taking the notion to the level of entire nations anyway--well, if I were an elite prince or high priest or especially fortunate and successful businessman with my personal needs met, but standing on the shoulders of a desperately poor nation, what would my ethical position be, exactly? I might have love in my heart for my fellow people who are less fortunate than me. I might have a clear conscience that I have not conspired with any immoral acts to put myself in my fortunate position, that I did not ask to be born in a lucky place, and that if my people do not have enough to live as properly ethical, fully developed human beings, it is my duty to strive, using my own privileges as leverage, on their behalf collectively. I suppose I might conclude than an opportunistic war might possibly give my whole nation a leg up, and thus I take on, as some reified agent of the nation as a whole, the persona of the personified nation as a desperately poor, lower hierarchy of needs place person who is justified in any desperate self-serving means of improving "my" position.

From the perspective of Uncle Sam or John Bull or some other personified much richer nation, who is the potential victim of the desperate poor's thuggery then, the world remains dog eat dog despite "my personal" elevation. Since the wretched of the Earth are naturally out to get me, until they get richer anyway, I too must arm myself and prepare for necessary war. Since war is necessary, it is not really evil.

Is that where the logic is going?

Of course this parable is ridiculous--it is not the poor, desperate peoples of Earth who prey on the fatuous but well meaning rich. The rich generally have, at some collective aggregation, a rap sheet of vile and dastardly deeds performed by the better off against the worse off, polarizing their relationship more, rather than dog eat dog leveling to the level of the hungriest mongrel stray dog. The Herero of Namibia have not invaded Germany, the Germans have subdued Namibia.

So--if I stipulate Maslow as I understand him to be correct, then the well off have a moral duty and pragmatic interest that are one and the same, to help the worse off elevate themselves so that everyone can be operating at the same level. To suggest otherwise, that the "poor will always be with you" and that the elites should cultivate themselves while fighting off the parasitic draining, is to despair of progress and hold that only a few are capable of being really good, and those few are the rich.

I should read Maslow directly in detail if we are take his name as some sort of guiding star. I will bet right now that my impression he's a liberal progressive recommending strongly the avoidance of war and ending it on the least disruptive terms for all sides is much more true to anything he may have recommended than the suggestion that his observation of a hierarchy of moral compasses is somehow to justify the ongoing polarization of humanity and the routine, normal acceptance of war as natural, inevitable and somehow useful.

Anyway, the simplistic notion that only the well off are capable of real morality flies in the face of common human experience. History is replete with instances of the less well off behaving more kindly and with scrupulous consideration than people they meet who are far better off than them, yet more vicious and generally sociopathic.

I guess if I am to understand what you are hinting at, I will have to ask you to explain, and enlighten my ignorance!
 
I've been exposed to a sketch of the idea..

Thank you.

So Maslow postulates a hierarchy of human motives in which the base needs (food, shelter, clothing, security, health) must be fulfilled before the superstructure aims (approval, recreation, self-actualisation) can be persued.

Thus my original post stems from an exasperation with a statement like (mangled) "war is always detrimental to an economy and I am unaware that anybody would argue otherwise".

Even if the main statement were true, I find the -if not ignorance then- innocence of the case, that since Heroclitus some men should have considered War the Father of all Things, dangerous.

Myself, I could -for debate- argue with Maslow that warfare is a superstructure activity, a luxury, a vice, that can only be sustained by the base economy. For the US to defeat Axis Germany, the US needed to draft, feed, cloth, house, vaccinate, transport 90 divisions cross-Atlantic, before they ever could entertain to take a shot at a German. These are precisely the base human needs under the Maslow model; and the devil might thus argue that war enforces the optimization of the base industry, whilst the transformation of the superstructure industry, from radar to television sets later, is trivial.

I represent my old client here pro bono, as those who do not contemplate his existence may also do his bidding.

"The Konservative Revolution" was a side-stream in the German history of ideas in the time which this AH covers. It lost out to the forces of National Socialism and liberal democracy and thus is today mostly forgotten: and I know little about it. However, it was not without intellectual brilliance so I am in eager anticipation of what Carlton will come up with. An Ernst Jünger Tagebucheintrag about Halley's Comet perhaps ?
 
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http://www.ediblegeography.com/the-lost-sausages-of-world-war-i/

In unusual things which I just learned today, apparently the military production of zeppelins during WWI OTL had major repercussions in the German sausage industry; the reason being that Zeppelin canvas was made from cattle intestine, which of course is used also to produce sausage. The intestine required to produce one zeppelin, apparently, could also have been used to make 33 million sausages.

Which brings me to my next point--we do know that ITTL, unlike OTL, the early advent of WWI has led to heavier-than-air craft being discounted for its military applications in favor of lighter than air craft such as zeppelins--in fact, unlike OTL, zeppelins will form the cornerstone of the nascent German Air Force. So while there may be some relief from the ending of the war, much intestine that would ordinarily be used to make sausage will probably be bought up post-war for arms research and military production.

So my question is, @carlton_bach, what consequences do you foresee the German-Russian war having on German, Russian, and Eastern European cuisine overall, and will German sausage-making survive as an art for the remainder of the 20th century?
 
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@Zmflavius as ever hits the vital questions.
I think the Danes should be able to help here, using pig intestine instead of cattle intestine may be a viable alternative until a synthetic version of cattle intestine is available for one or the other.
 
@Zmflavius as ever hits the vital questions.
I think the Danes should be able to help here, using pig intestine instead of cattle intestine may be a viable alternative until a synthetic version of cattle intestine is available for one or the other.

Pig intestine as an alternative for the sausages or the zeppelins?
 
So my question is, @carlton_bach, what consequences do you foresee the German-Russian war having on German, Russian, and Eastern European cuisine overall, and will German sausage-making survive as an art for the remainder of the 20th century?

Not as extensive ones as the war IOTL did, for two reasons:

- the sheer numbers do not really compare. ITTL Germany has a total fleet of around 30 airships, including many smaller and even some pre-war models. Only the very largest Zeppelin ships built towards the end of the war come anywhere near the size and capability of WWI standard models.

- the international market is still open to German buyers. Even if we discout the possibility of using whale intrestine (this is the dawn of industrial whaling), the places to go for goldbeater's skin in huge quantities are Chicago and Buenos Aires, not Kiel and Magdeburg.

That said, the shortage of sausage casings, like that of most animal products, was real during the war, and with rationing being removed in undue haste, a big part of the populace will go without for quite a while longer. German butchers are being inventive in all kinds of ways, but the biggest lasting fashion to come out of the war effort is sausage in jars. It was the fashion of the future, anyway - hygienic, sterilised and guaranteed safe from the pilfering hands of servants while sealed - but the shortages (and the possibility of adding soy meal and other 'stretchers') gave it a boost during the war. Other forms of caseless sausages won't catch on, just as per OTL.

Pig gut for sausage casings is happening. Goat and sheep, too. And horse. And dog, when nobody's checking. But none of these are good options.
 
Yes.


For the sausages which will be fine taste wise anyway.

For the record, sausage here made pretty much exclusively with pig intestines and i have difficulties to even imagine sausages/salamis whatever made with cattle ones: those are too big. Was it even a real issue?
 
For the record, sausage here made pretty much exclusively with pig intestines and i have difficulties to even imagine sausages/salamis whatever made with cattle ones: those are too big. Was it even a real issue?

I'm now imagining how big a salami made with cattle intestine would be. :love:



I'll be in my bunk...
 
Tver, 12 October 1908


Very little in a Russian village had proper right angles, but it was obvious that the future did. Valentina Grishina had never understood this even during her stay in Mogilev. Of course, then her life had been circumscribed by the demands of work and the confines of the Patriotic Union station. She supposed that Mogilev had streets like this, too: Palatial homes with windows from which electric light streamed at night, grand boulevards down which trams made their stately progress, and the overwhelming majesty of the church and the state represented in architecture. Perhaps she had merely not seen them. In Tver, on a peacetime schedule that allowed for a half-day off every other week and with real pay in her pocket, she was free to explore. The city was nothing short of amazing. The very idea of building its streets in a systematic grid – of numbering houses – of laying out a tram system with changing points in strategic locations – awed her. It was a world governed by people who used their minds, who thought of things in advance and used their best judgement to set up their reality in a way that just worked. And they made itr all seem practically effortless. On her first half-day off, she had simply got on the tram and kept riding until her funds were exhausted and she felt thoroughly familiar with the strange beast. You just got on, paid your fare, and sat down, going wherever you wanted to be at your leisure. It had been almost as much a revelation to her as her first assignment in the hospital. This was what she craved. This was what she wanted for herself, for her country, for every girl and woman bent over under the crushing burden of labour, dragging plaited boots through the clinging, frozen mud. It was a prospect every bit as uplifting as the visions of Jesus the All-Ruler that were laid before the girls every Sunday, and far more tangible. God, she could serve, fear and love, much as she had once expected to do with a husband. Modernity, she could make!


Of course, making modernity was not easy, but then, in her world nothing ever was. It took thought, dedication, and perseverance, and it took the willingness to take on idiots. That had been hard for her in the beginning. Even now, lugging a bucket of calcium hypochlorite ahead of a gaggle of schoolchildren following her like ducklings, she was not entirely at ease with the responsibility she carried. She was supposed to instruct them, but how much about this did she really understand? Even at the hospital, she had never actually seen a germ. She had to trust the doctors who said they were there and pointed to drawings they had made. Anything this small had to be easy to miss. You’d take it on faith that disinfectants killed them, but how could you be sure? It felt like an overwhelming charge.


Today, it was the tram stations. Volunteer disinfecting crews were assigned their duties by the city’s health inspectorate, and it was taken for granted that every Union member would volunteer one day of the week. The women of the typist and telephonist school were usually assigned areas in the city centre. Valentina had gone along for one shift at the railyard, where the tracks were red with the bloody excretions dripping from third-class carriages some days and travellers slept in shifts, crowded into waiting rooms and locomotive sheds, as they waited for the chance to go to homes that often no longer existed. She was glad that militiamen took over those duties. Bright-eyed and earnest, the girls followed her instruction, wiping down seats and handrails, spreading disinfectant over anything that looked like a potential source of infection. With thousands of demobilised troops coming through town, it was a Sisyphean task, but sometimes, winning simply consisted of not losing too much. They had cases of cholera, typhoid fever, and a host of other diseases in Tver, but they didn’t have epidemic outbreaks. And if Valentina had anything to do with it, they wouldn’t. .


At the stop opposite theirs, two soldiers stood watching them. Demobilised men, she noted, carrying all their worldly goods in the thick blanket rolls and bulging haversacks hanging over their shoulders. Their grimy uniform blouses hung loose over their baggy trousers, greasy hair parted down the middle and beards already exceeding allowed lengths. Peasants, and obviously the worse for drink. One of them turned to unburden his stomach of a mix of army-issue kasha and cheap vodka. Valentina shouted at him to stop. The response was unprintable.


“Who do you think you are, bitch, giving me orders?!You think you’re a fucking officer, or what?” Valentina knew it was a bad idea the moment she walked across the street to confront the fellow, but now, what choice did she have? Everything in her upbringing told her to stay away from drunken men. Everybody knew soldiers were trouble. But she had a job to do, and the girls looked up to her. She couldn’t walk away with her tail tucked between her legs now, not in front of them. Behind the men, posters printed on bright red paper warned everyone of the mortal danger of contagion. Everyone who could read, anyway. She doubted these two belonged to that select club.


“The city is under a medical state of emergency!” she pointed out, “There are public latrines, and fouling the streets away from them is an offense that…”


“Right!” the man staggered forward, wiping vomit off his beard, “and you’ll see us there, pretty? Show us how to go potty, eh?”


Valentina slapped him. She had intended a dismissive kind of slap, the dainty reminder that boundaries had been overstepped that she’d seen her middle-class colleagues occasionally apply to young men being too forward, but many years of lifting heavy pots and pails told. The soldier fell over, landing gracelessly on his rump and scrabbling for purchase as his blanket roll help him half-upright like the carapace of a beetle flipped on its back. “Bitch!” he shouted indignantly.


“Now,” she frantically tried to remember everything she had learned about reading uniforms, “private, stand down!” The withering disdain she managed to put into her gaze seemed to work as much as her the practiced command tone she took with her girls “You will not use that kind of language in front of me. If I catch you braking ordinances again, I can have you shot, and don’t imagine for one second I won’t! You are putting the lives of the entire city at risk. One unguarded spit can make you a murderer!”


The last part was a direct quote from the posters. It did not seem to have the effect on the soldier that it had had on her – hygiene was quickly becoming second nature to Valentina. The man scrambled to his feet, fixing her with an angry stare. Valentina felt the protective shell that the PU uniform had built around her body, thin and fragile. It was all she had to rely on now. She raised herself to her full height.


“The penalty for disobeying official orders is death by shooting! The life of the people is more valuable than the life of any one of us.”


For the briefest of moment, the outcome hung in the balance. Then, the soldier’s less inebriated comrade laid his hand on the other man’s arm and they turned away. “Bitch.” He mumbled again.


“We’ll need the bucket over here, girls.” Valentina beckoned. A dozen pairs of admiring eyes remained fixed on her. Almost half a minute elapsed before one of them picked it up and carried it across to the tram stop.


Modernity, she could make.
 
Even though it's happening in service to a rather nasty organisation which is probably going to lead Russia in a very bad direction indeed, in a scene like this it's difficult not to cheer Valentina being empowered and finding a place for herself where she can make a difference.
 
This seems like a key experience for her character. Using all that she has learned, all the confidence she has gained and all the authority provided to her by the Patriotic Union to impose her will and lay down the law on others. No longer just a receiver of orders, but actually giving them to someone over whom she has, in theory, no authority. Am I wrong if I read this as a taste of what is to come for her? A position of (relative) power?
 
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