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and its Impact on Modern Society

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How did World War II change international business and commerce?

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How did World War II reshape political views?

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What are the United Nations and how has the creation of it been beneficial since World War II?

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Is Antisemitism still around today?

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Pauline Grosjean

Research Article (Scholarly)

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This column is a lead commentary in the VoxEU Debate "The Economics of the Second World War: Eighty Years On"
What is the political legacy of WWII? One tradition has described war as the precondition for state formation and nation building (Tilly and Ardant 1975, Tilly 1985). Another emphasises the political and social disintegration that follows conflict, leading to heightened risk of further conflict and 'conflict traps' (Collier et al. 2003, Collier and Hoeffler 2004).

Two problems stand in the way of firm conclusions from macro-level studies. One is omitted variables that correlate with both the occurrence of conflict and the quality of institutions. Another is reverse causality between state capacity and conflict. These problems can be overcome by micro-level studies, which examine the effects of varying exposure to conflict on individuals in similar cultural and institutional conditions.

My research (Grosjean 2014) has found consistent patterns in how WWII shaped individual attitudes across Europe and Central Asia. A representative sample of respondents across 35 countries in 2010, 65 years after the end of the war, shows that a family history of wartime victimisation has systematically eroded political trust and the perceived legitimacy of institutions. Greater exposure to violence has also made people more likely to engage in political and social groups and collective action.

Data: The Life in Transition Survey

The Life in Transition Survey (LiTS) is a nationally representative survey in more than 30 countries of former Communist Europe and Central Asia, carried out by the European Bank for Reconstruction and Development and the World Bank. Three waves have been collected since 2006. In 2010, the survey included a question on family and personal exposure to WWII, as well as to more recent conflicts for the countries that experienced a civil war since then. I focus here exclusively on WWII; in Grosjean (2014) I consider exposure to conflict more broadly.

The 2010 wave was also collected in five Western European comparison countries (France, Germany, Great Britain, Italy, and Sweden). One thousand respondents were included in each country (1,500 in Ukraine and Russia), making the total number of observations more than 39,500. I exclude countries that were neutral during the war from the data, leaving a sample of 35,960 individuals.

Asked whether they, their parents or their grandparents were physically injured or killed during WWII, nearly 30% of respondents answered yes (unweighted average). As Figure 1 shows, the incidence of victimisation ranges from more than 60% in Belarus, Russia, and Ukraine to less than 10% in Albania and Kosovo.

Figure 1 The incidence of reported victimisation in WWII by country

Source: Grosjean (2014: 435).
Note: At the country level, the frequency of self-reported victimization is highly correlated with independent measures of war-related fatalities (Grosjean 2014: 436).

Which political and social norms are most critical for long-run stability and society? Trust in formal institutions has been found among the determinants of economic growth (Acemoglu 2005, Acemoglu et al. 2011, Besley and Persson 2009, 2010), market development (Greif 2012), economic liberalisation (Grosjean and Senik 2011), and post-conflict political recovery (Bigombe et al. 2000). Trust in others is also a factor in growth (Knack and Keefer 1997, Guiso et al., 2010), the functioning of markets (Fafchamps 2006), and institutional quality (Tabellini 2008, 2010). Participation in social groups and collective action is the focus of Puttnam (1995), and research on the social legacy of conflict has relied on similar measures of social capital (Bellows and Miguel 2009). Whether social capital is necessarily positive or negative for development is a point to which we will return.

The answers of the repondents to the LiTS allow us to measure the most relevant political and social norms.

Trust in central institutions of the nation: the presidency, the government, and the parliament, scaled 1 (low) to 5 (high).

Perceived fairness of the justice system: equal treatment in the courts and protection against the state, scaled 1 to 5.

Trust in others (as against needing to be careful when dealing with others), scaled 1 to 5.

Capacity for collective action: participation in demonstrations, strikes, or petitions.

Participation in social groups: membership of religious, recreational, educational, labour, environmental, professional, charitable, or youth associations.

Participation in politics: membership of a political party.

We then look at how respondents' norms and preferences expressed in 2010 are related to family exposure to violence during WWII, which ended 65 years previously.

Confounding factors and reverse causality

In the first instance, I consider the relationship between the intensity of victimisation in WWII and political and social preferences across the whole sample. However, this relationship might depend on the outcome of the war for the nation. For example, trust in the state might be enhanced in countries that were victorious and weakened in those that were defeated. For some countries there was also a civil war, as in the Balkans. Therefore, I contrast the role played by victimisation among the Allies (Great Britain with the Allied governments in exile (today's Czech Republic, Poland)) and the Soviet Union; the Axis and client states (Albania, Bosnia, Bulgaria, Croatia, Germany, Hungary, Italy, Kosovo, Macedonia, Montenegro, Romania and Slovakia); and the remaining divided countries (Belarus, three Baltic states, France, Moldova, Serbia, Ukraine).

Second, the quality of institutions varies greatly across countries. For example, Great Britain and Bulgaria show similar wartime death rates but widely different institutions and cultural norms. This would influence individual answers about political trust or social capital, regardless of wartime experience. To speak to the legacy of wartime victimisation on political trust and social capital, it is essential to maintain constant the quality of formal institutions and cultural factors. For this reason, the analysis only compares individuals within the same neighbourhood (primary sampling unit) in the same country.

Third, there is the possibility of reverse causation: people may have suffered violence selectively, because of the level of their political trust or because they belonged to social groups or political parties. The fact that the war ended 65 years before the survey was conducted attenuates this selection concern. In 1939, only 8.4% of our respondents were alive; only 0.3% were 16 or older. The average respondent is 46 years old and thus reports their parents' or grandparents' victimisation, not their own. Systematic victimisation would be a problem only if the preferences that made people suffer wartime violence were inherited down the generations. Still, I control for respondents' characteristics that could be correlated with political trust and social capital or family history of victimisation, such as age (and age squared), gender, ethnicity (proxied by mother tongue), education, working status, religion, and income. Essentially, I compare individuals not only from the same neighbourhood, but also with similar personal characteristics, who differed in family exposure to war violence.

Figure 2 displays the results of OLS regressions of the indices of trust in institutions and of social capital on an index of wartime family victimisation. The regressions control for individual characteristics and neighbourhood fixed effects. As indicated in the figure's legend, the first line uses the whole sample, the second only the sample of Allies, the third Axis countries only, and the last the sample of remaining divided countries.

Figure 2 Victimisation in WWII reduces political trust and spurs collective action

Source: Grosjean (2014).
Note: Each chart shows four coefficients on wartime victimization of a different dependent variable. The four coefficients, in order from top to bottom, are for the whole sample, Allies, Axis, and divided countries. Controls and fixed effects are described in the text. The dependent variables are standardised, so the coefficients are directly comparable. Standard errors are clustered at the country level. Horizontal bars correspond to 10% (thick line) and 5% (thin line) confidence intervals. When the confidence interval does not overlap with the vertical bar at zero, the coefficient is statistically significant at the 5% level.

On this basis, we reach four main findings:

Wartime victimisation erodes trust in the state today.

Wartime victimisation spurs involvement in collective action.

For those whose families were victimised, membership of social groups marks even lower political and social trust.

The effects on trust are stable down the generations.

Long-term effects of wartime victimisation

Wartime victimisation erodes trust in the state today.

Sixty-five years on, political trust is strongly and negatively affected by wartime victimisation, regardless of the war's outcome for the country. (But the effect is only marginally significant in Axis countries.) The effect is similar on perceived fairness of the courts.

The magnitude of the results is quite large. Today, people whose families were victimised in the war are less trusting of the central state and of the courts by 0.07 and 0.08 standard deviations, compared with others with similar socioeconomic characteristics in the same locality. For trust in the central state this is nearly five time the effect of being unemployed. For trust in the courts, it is ten times.

By contrast, there is no strong effect on generalised trust - a puzzle to which we return below.

Wartime victimisation spurs involvement in collective action.

Today, people whose family was victimised in the war are more likely to engage in collective action by demonstrating, striking, or signing petitions, and they are more likely to join social groups and political parties. Again, the fate of the nation at the war's end has no strong influence.

What is captured, exactly, by involvement in collective action and in social and political groups? The sociological literature is divided. Putnam (1995) sees it as promoting social cohesion. Bourdieu (1985) saw the opposite: social capital can be exploited in group rivalry, leading to social exclusion and political violence (see also Portes 1998). Recently the "dark side" of social capital has been unveiled by Satyanath et al. (2013): the density of civic associations in interwar Germany helped the advance of the Nazi Party to power. Similarly, victims of the 1990s Tajik civil war participate more in groups when they have less trust in other people and the state (Cassar et al. 2013a, b).

For those whose families were victimised in wartime, membership of social groups marks even lower political and social trust.

We find that the collective action spurred by war victimisation may be of a similarly dark nature. In families that were victimised, people who participate in groups today are those that place less trust in others and in politics (Grosjean 2014: 447-448).

This may solve the puzzle that our measure of generalized trust seems unaffected by wartime experience. Conflict may increase trust in friends and relatives, while reducing trust in strangers.

The effects on trust are stable down the generations.

Are the effects we observe driven by war survivors and the immediate post-war generation, and do they fade over time among younger people? Our data allow us to distinguish four different birth cohorts, separated by 1940, 1960, and 1980. I find that the overall legacy of war victimisation does not fade, showing only modest declines in some dimensions while increasing in others.1

Conclusion

Family victimisation in WWII has led, across the board, to a persistent decline in political and social trust. Far from fading over generations, some effects prevail among those born since 1980. Thus, wartime experience is among the complex mix of factors at work in the long-term decline of social and political trust across the Western world.

References

Acemoglu, D (2005), "Politics and economics in weak and strong states", Journal of Monetary Economics 52(7): 1199-1226.

Acemoglu, D, Ticchi, D and Vindigni, A (2011), "Emergence and persistence of inefficient states", Journal of the European Economic Association 9(2): 177-208.

Bellows, J and Miguel, E (2009), "War and local collective action in Sierra Leone", Journal of Public Economics 93(11-12): 1144-1157.

Besley, T and Persson, T (2009), "The origins of state capacity: Property rights, taxation and politics", American Economic Review 99(4): 1218-1244.

Besley, T and Persson, T (2010), "State capacity, conflict and development", Econometrica 78(1): 1-34, 01.

Bigombe, B, Collier, P and Sambanis, N (2000), "Policies for building post-conflict peace", Journal of African Economies 9(3): 323-348.

Bourdieu, P (1985), "The social space and the genesis of groups", Social Science Information 24(2): 195-220.

Cassar, A, Grosjean, P and Whitt, S (2013a), "Legacies of violence: Trust and market development", Journal of Economic Growth 18(3): 285-318.

Cassar, A, Grosjean, P and Whitt, S (2013b), "Social preferences of ex-combatants: Survey and experimental evidence from post-war Tajikistan," in Wärneryd, K. (ed). The Economics of Conflict. MIT Press: Cambridge, MA

Collier, P, Elliot, L, Hegre, H, Hoeffler, A, Reynal-Querol, M and Sambanis, N (2003), Breaking the conflict trap: civil war and development policy, Oxford University Press and World Bank: Oxford and Washington DC

Collier, P and Hoeffler, A (2004), "Conflict", in Lomborg, B. (ed). Global Crises, Global Solutions, Cambridge University Press: Cambridge.

Fafchamps, M (2006), "Development and social capital," Journal of Development Studies 42(7): 1180-1198.

Fafchamps, M (2006), "Development and social capital", Journal of Development Studies 42(7): 1180-1198.

Greif, A (2012), "Coercion and exchange. How did markets evolve?" in Greif, A, Kiesling, L and Nye, J (eds), Essays in Economic History and Development, Stanford University.

Grosjean, P and Senik, C (2011), "Democracy, market liberalization and political and economic preferences", Review of Economics and Statistics 93(1): 365-381.

Grosjean, P (2014), "Conflict and Social and Political Preferences: Evidence from World War II and Civil Conflict in 35 European Countries", Comparative Economic Studies 56(3): 424-451.

Guiso, L, Sapienza, P and Zingales, L (2010), "Civic capital as the missing link", in Benhabib, J, Bisin, A and Jackson, M O (eds). Social Economics Handbook, National Bureau of Economic Research.

Knack, S and Keefer, P (1997), "Does social capital have an economic payoff? A cross-country investigation", Quarterly Journal of Economics 1 12(4): 1251-1288.

Portes, A (1998), "Social capital: Its origins and applications in modern sociology", Annual Review of Sociology 24: 1-24.

Portes, A (2010), Economic sociology: A systematic inquiry, Princeton University Press: Princeton.

Putnam, R D (1995), "Bowling alone: America's declining social capital", Journal of Democracy 6(1): 65-78.

Satyanath, S, Voigtlaender, N and Voth, H-J (2013), "Bowling for fascism: Social capital and the rise of the Nazi party in Weimar Germany, 1919-33", NBER Working paper no. 19201, NBER: Cambridge.

Tabellini, G (2008), "The scope of cooperation: Norms and incentives", Quarterly Journal of Economics 122(3): 905-950.

Tabellini, G (2010), "Culture and institutions: Economic development in the regions of Europe", Journal of the European Economic Association 6(2-3): 255-294.

Tilly, C (1985), "War making and state making as organized crime", in Evans, P, Rueschemeyer, D and Skocpol, T (eds). Bringing the State Back In. Cambridge University Press.

Tilly, C and Ardant, G (1975), The formation of national states in Western Europe, Princeton University Press: Princeton.

Endnotes

[1] These results are not reported in Grosjean (2014). Details are available from the author upon request.

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How WWII shaped political and social trust in the long run

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How did WWII shape our views about the state, and about each other? This column, part of a Vox debate on the economics of WWII, uses individual-level data from more than 35,000 individuals in 35 countries to shed light on how wartime victimisation has shaped political and social preferences in the long run.

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The article examines how World War II influenced contemporary political and social views by analyzing individual-level data from over 35,000 people in 35 countries. It demonstrates that personal or family exposure to wartime violence has had a long-term negative impact on political trust and social preferences throughout Europe and Central Asia. Despite differences in the outcomes of the conflict, exposure to violence has consistently eroded political trust and institutional legitimacy. Furthermore, it has resulted in increased participation in negative rallies, which has been linked to further drops in social and political trust. The study points out the long-term consequences of wartime oppression, implying that these experiences continue to influence political and social attitudes across all generations.

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This a scholarly article because not only is the author a direct affiliate with the University of New South Wales but also the type of language used. Furthermore, this article includes a references section and uses in-text citations. This article also includes formulas and statistics to back up the claim, as well as tables and graphs.

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I like that this article goes go into the legacy of World War II on political and social views, shedding light on how individual experiences of wartime violence have shaped perceptions across Europe and Central Asia. By analyzing individual data sets, Grosjean provides compelling evidence of the long-term impact of personal exposure to conflict on political trust and social preferences.

Plus, I like that the study not only discusses the importance of historical events in shaping modern political views but also emphasizes the continued impact of these effects over generations.

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Claire Boyte-White

Informational Article (Trade)

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World War II brought about untold changes not just to Europe but the entire world. This period marked a cultural and economic shift, and the recovery from that shift echoes to this day.

Economically, the period after the end of World War II was a time for moving from the industry of creation for the purpose of destruction and into the industry of creation for creation's sake, resulting in an attitude of exploring new technologies and business models previously unheard of.

In Europe, this shift is most clearly illustrated by the change in the gross domestic product (GDP) in the years immediately following the war.

Key Takeaways

A Quick Overview of GDP

The GDP is a numerical metric that measures all the finished products and services produced by a particular population, usually a single nation or collection of nations, such as the European Union. The GDP is calculated by adding the sum of all consumer spending, government spending, business spending, and total imports less total exports for the time period in question.

This metric is used to assess many aspects of a nation's economic health, including general growth patterns and standard of living. In years when the GDP is at an increase, the economy is understood to be growing, unemployment tends to be down, and exports tend to be up.

Post-War Economies

Even during wartime, American output steadily grew, as the physical damage done to the country was limited to Hawaii and some overseas military bases. This allowed Americans to buckle down and work on bolstering industry rather than having to focus on rebuilding what was lost.

Conversely, many countries in Europe suffered extensive damage to buildings and infrastructure, so the end of the war was a time for intensive rehabilitation.

However, the end of the war also marked the beginning of a period of expansive growth for Europe and other nations. For the second half of the 20th century, the United States, Europe, and Japan experienced amazing gains. In fact, GDP per capita in Europe tripled in the second half of the twentieth century following the war. America used its footing post-war to become a global superpower.

How It Happened

One of the theories behind what allowed such prolific growth in a region ravaged by war is that the end of World War II and the instability of the previous decades presented Europe with the opportunity for catch-up growth. Since the years between World War I and World War II were rife with global economic instability, Europe had not had time to implement many of the advancements pioneered in the U.S. and elsewhere.

Where Americans were developing new technologies such as nylon and Teflon and making important advancements in areas such as the automotive industry, many Europeans were still heating their homes with coal. Basically, the nonstop turmoil of the pre-war years left little time for advancement on the continent. However, once the war ended, all these new technologies and advancements in business and industry became available to economies newly able and ready to embrace them.

People who worked in wartime as soldiers and nurses now needed jobs, and American advancement during the preceding years provided the perfect blueprint for how to use this newly available workforce. This and other factors contributed to an upswing in the GDP of Europe that persisted well into the 1970s.

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The Basic Economic Effects World War II Had on the Global Economy

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World War II brought about untold changes not just to Europe but the entire world. This period marked a cultural and economic shift, and the recovery from that shift echoes to this day.

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The source talks about the major impact of World War II on the global economy, with a particular emphasis on Europe's recovery and subsequent economic expansion. Following the war, Europe made a significant shift from rebuilding to embracing new technologies and business models, but at a slower pace than the United States and Japan. Despite the destruction caused by the war, Europe saw significant economic growth, with GDP per capita tripling in the second half of the 20th century. The end of the war gave Europe an opportunity for catch-up growth, with the transition from wartime industries to peacetime economies, which resulted in sustained economic growth.

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This source can be classified as a trade article. It provides a financial and economic analysis of how World War II affected European GDP, with a focus on people who are interested in the history of economics and finance. While it contains useful information, it is written in a way that is understandable to anyone and focuses on practical use rather than academic research.

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I like that this source provides a good overview of the post-World War II economic setting. It highlights the war's significant impact on Europe's economic path. It effectively looks at how the damage caused by the war resulted in a period of reconstruction.

Furthermore, I like that the article sheds light on the factors that contributed to Europe's economic recovery, like the availability of new technologies and available workforce.

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Peace, dignity and equality on a healthy planet

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United Nations

Informational Article (Popular)

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Founded in 1945 after World War II, the United Nations represents global cooperation and diplomacy, committed to peace, security, and collaboration among nations. Replacing the League of Nations, the UN is determined to prevent future conflicts through proper communication and cooperative efforts. Since it's been founded, the UN has played a crucial role in various ways. It has facilitated conflict resolution, promoted human rights through international standards, advanced sustainable development goals, and provided a platform for addressing important global challenges like climate change and terrorism. The UN also gives vital humanitarian aid to millions in need worldwide and stands as a vital force for progress toward a more peaceful world.

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This is a Popular article because of its broad reach and easy accessibility for a variety of people. The information is intended to inform and educate the general public about important global issues and the UN's efforts to address them. People with different levels of knowledge and understanding can easily understand the content because it is written clearly and concisely.

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I like the UN's emphasis on global issues and its reputation as a reliable source for crucial global issues. I also like that it provides people from all over the globe with a platform to learn about the UN's efforts to tackle issues ranging from poverty and hunger to climate change and human rights.

Additionally, the pictures and audio raised my interest and gave me a better grasp of what negative things are going on in the world.

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Do Fascist and Nazi parties still exist today?

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How has War changed since the end of World War II?

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This article analyzes the long-term impact of Nazi propaganda and education on German attitudes toward Jews. The study uses survey data from 1996 and 2006 to examine anti-Semitic beliefs among Germans and discovers that people who grew up under the Nazi regime have significantly higher levels of anti-Semitism than those born before or after that time. This effect continues to this day, more than half a century after World War II ended. The study found that Nazi propaganda, in particular through schools and youth groups, was highly successful in creating anti-Semitic attitudes. Individuals who were exposed to Nazi propaganda in their youth are more likely to hold extreme anti-Semitic beliefs, such as denying Jews equal rights or resenting them as neighbors or relatives. Overall, the study helps clarify the long-term effects of propaganda and indoctrination on social views and emphasizes the importance of historical context for forming modern opinions.

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Nico Voigtländer

Hans-Joachim Voth

Research Article (Scholarly)

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Significance

Attempts at modifying public opinions, attitudes, and beliefs range from advertising and schooling to "brainwashing." Their effectiveness is highly controversial. We demonstrate that Nazi indoctrination--with its singular focus on fostering racial hatred--was highly effective. Germans who grew up under the Nazi regime are much more anti-Semitic today than those born before or after that period. These findings demonstrate that beliefs can be modified massively through policy intervention. We also show that it was probably Nazi schooling that was most effective, and not radio or cinema propaganda. Where schooling could tap into preexisting prejudices, indoctrination was particularly strong. This suggests that confirmation bias may play an important role in intensifying attitudes toward minorities.

Keywords: cultural transmission, indoctrination, persistence, anti-Semitism

Abstract

Attempts at modifying public opinions, attitudes, and beliefs range from advertising and schooling to "brainwashing." Their effectiveness is highly controversial. In this paper, we use survey data on anti-Semitic beliefs and attitudes in a representative sample of Germans surveyed in 1996 and 2006 to show that Nazi indoctrination--with its singular focus on fostering racial hatred--was highly effective. Between 1933 and 1945, young Germans were exposed to anti-Semitic ideology in schools, in the (extracurricular) Hitler Youth, and through radio, print, and film. As a result, Germans who grew up under the Nazi regime are much more anti-Semitic than those born before or after that period: the share of committed anti-Semites, who answer a host of questions about attitudes toward Jews in an extreme fashion, is 2-3 times higher than in the population as a whole. Results also hold for average beliefs, and not just the share of extremists; average views of Jews are much more negative among those born in the 1920s and 1930s. Nazi indoctrination was most effective where it could tap into preexisting prejudices; those born in districts that supported anti-Semitic parties before 1914 show the greatest increases in anti-Jewish attitudes. These findings demonstrate the extent to which beliefs can be modified through policy intervention. We also identify parameters amplifying the effectiveness of such measures, such as preexisting prejudices.

Schools, parents, and the media not only communicate information and teach skills, they transmit values and beliefs as well ( 1). Dictatorships and democracies alike use schooling in particular to influence the outlook of children and young adults--the period of their lives during which humans are most susceptible to outside influences. The efficiency of such interventions, ranging from mild attempts to modify attitudes to "brainwashing," is highly controversial ( 2- 6). In particular, the effect of schooling has remained doubtful ( 5- 7). Whereas many historians believe that Nazi propaganda and schooling prepared the ground for the Third Reich's excesses, scientific studies of indoctrination have typically found few systematic effects ( 8, 9).

In this paper, we use modern-day data on anti-Semitic beliefs in Germany to examine the effectiveness of indoctrination. Nazi schooling and extracurricular activities sought to inculcate racial hatred to an extraordinary extent. The entire curriculum--not only biology classes--was used to convince the young of the importance of race and the inferiority of Jews, blacks, etc. In addition to compulsory school attendance, young Germans had to join the Hitler Youth, where indoctrination continued; the official handbook for schooling the Hitler Youth devoted fully 45 out of 105 pages to racial ideology ( 10). Further, propaganda messages embedded in books and films reinforced indoctrination ( 11).

Germans who grew up under the Nazi regime were therefore exposed to a wide range of indoctrination methods. Using data from the German General Social Survey (ALLBUS), we show that these individuals are still markedly more anti-Semitic today than cohorts born either before or after. They are more inclined to deny Jews equal rights, to resent having them as neighbors or family members, and they believe more often that Jews have too much influence in the world. The creation of additional racial bias varies by location. Where anti-Semitism was already prevalent before World War I (WWI), the Nazi message of racial hatred produced many more zealots than elsewhere. This suggests that indoctrination is particularly effective where it can exploit preexisting stereotypes and beliefs ( 12), leading to a "magnification effect."

Data: Modern-Day Geographical Variation of anti-Semitic Beliefs

Two waves of the General Social Survey for Germany (ALLBUS 1996 and 2006) asked a set of seven questions about attitudes toward Jews ( 13, 14). For each of these questions, respondents answered on a numerical scale ranging from 1 to 7; we recoded the scale so that 7 is always the most anti-Semitic response. Table 1 shows the distribution of responses in the sample as a whole.

Table 1.

Least anti-Semitic

Most anti-Semitic

For example, 17% of German respondents felt that Jews should blame themselves for their own persecution, 25.7% were uncomfortable with the idea of a Jew marrying into their family, and 21.5% felt that Jews should not have equal rights (scores of 5 or higher on a scale from 1 to 7).

Regional differences in attitudes across German regions are large. The combined waves from the 1996 and 2006 surveys contain data from 5,300 respondents in 264 towns or cities. [We restrict the sample to individuals whose parents and grandparents are German. Altogether, there are 6,800 respondents in the 1996 and 2006 waves of the survey.] SI Appendix, Fig. S1 shows the percentage of people who do not agree with the statement that "Jews living in Germany should have equal rights with Germans in all respects" (response of 5 or higher). For example, only 10% of respondents in Hamburg disagreed. At the other end of the spectrum, 48% of people surveyed in Lower Bavaria ( Niederbayern) felt that way--a concentration of anti-Jewish sentiment almost five times higher than in Hamburg. Other questions--whether respondents would accept a Jewish family member, a Jewish neighbor, or about the influence of Jews in the world--show similarly high dispersions of beliefs at the regional level.

Our study analyzes data using city-level information. The ALLBUS sensitive geographical data contain information on the place of residence of each respondent ( 15). Based on the seven questions in the ALLBUS general survey covering attitudes toward Jews, we construct a composite measure of anti-Semitism--the average across the seven questions listed in Table 1 . We refer to this measure as "broad anti-Semitism" ( AS broad). One quarter of the German population holds mildly or strongly negative views of Jews according to this measure (corresponding to an average response of 4 or higher; the distribution is depicted in SI Appendix, section A.2). Responses are also highly correlated; for example, areas in which respondents do not want a Jewish neighbor are more likely to deny them equal rights, too, and they believe that Jews have too much influence in the world (SI Appendix, section A.3).

In addition to using average responses, we also analyze the share of individuals with consistent, strong, negative views. We define committed anti-Semites ( AS comm) as respondents who answer with 6 or more on each of three questions that are only asked about Jews in ALLBUS: "Do Jews have too much influence in the world?;" "Are Jews partly responsible for their own persecution?;" and "Are Jews trying to exploit their victim status for financial gain?" [The additional four questions that enter our measure of broad anti-Semitism ( Table 1 ) are not only asked about Jews, but also about Turks, immigrants, and other foreigners. Because our AS comm variable is derived only from the three Jew-specific questions, it can also be interpreted as a more narrow measure of anti-Semitism.] In Germany as a whole, some 4% of respondents are committed anti-Semites, according to this definition. However, the measure varies substantially across locations: Nearly half of the 264 towns and cities in our sample do not have any respondents in this category; at the opposite end of the spectrum, in 1 out of every 10 locations, 15% or more of respondents are committed anti-Semites.

Breeding Hatred

We analyze if growing up under Nazi rule had a lasting effect on attitudes later in life using cohort-specific indoctrination in the past as a source of identifying variation for present-day behavior ( 16). We find that anti-Semitic attitudes are particularly pronounced for ALLBUS respondents who grew up under the Nazi regime.

Fig. 1 shows the share of committed anti-Semites ( AS comm) by birth decade from 1910 to 1980. There is a general downward trend; people born later are on average less anti-Semitic. In addition, there is a striking outlier: about 10% of respondents from the 1930s birth cohort show strongly anti-Semitic attitudes--almost three times the percentage after 1950, and more than double the percentage of the preceding and the next cohort. [At the end of World War II (WWII), individuals from the 1930s cohort were between 6 and 15 years old. Below, we show that our results are robust to using the larger cohort born between 1920 and 1939, who were between 6 and 25 years old at the end of WWII. We also discuss why committed anti-Semitism is not unusually pronounced among the 1920s cohort in Fig. 1 --this is likely due to differential selection of fervent Nazi supporters from this cohort into army divisions that saw particularly high casualty rates.] The difference in AS comm for the 1930s birth cohort is statistically highly significant, as indicated by the 95% confidence intervals in the figure.

Regression results confirm these findings. Table 2 shows that individuals in the cohort 1930-1939 have significantly more pronounced anti-Semitic attitudes, even after controlling for personal characteristics such as education or the perception of the economic situation. According to our estimates in column 1, they are 5.8 percentage points more likely to be committed anti-Semites than the individuals outside of this cohort, who have a proportion of 3.6% of committed anti-Semites. In other words, those born in the 1930s are approximately twice as likely to hold extreme anti-Semitic beliefs (after controlling for individual characteristics). A similar pattern holds when we restrict the sample to individuals born before 1950 (column 2) and when analyzing broad anti-Semitism instead (columns 4 and 5). For the latter, the 1930-1939 birth cohort shows values that are 0.35 points higher on a scale from 1 to 7 (and relative to an average of 3.15 for all other cohorts). Results are also very similar when we repeat the analysis for the broader birth cohorts 1920-1939 (columns 3 and 6).

Table 2.

Dependent variable

Committed anti-Semitism (AS broad)

Broad measure of anti-Semitism (AS broad)

N
4,452

2,036

4,452

4,286

1,952

4,286

R ²
0.029

0.034

0.027

0.099

0.072

0.104

In SI Appendix, section A.4, we examine the 1920s and 1930s cohorts separately. Cohorts born in the 1920s were also exposed to Nazi indoctrination. We find that they similarly show higher shares of average anti-Semitic beliefs ( AS broad). This pattern holds for men and women. The 1920s cohort also shows a significantly higher share of committed anti-Semites ( AS comm) among women. The one group for which there is no effect for the 1920s cohort are male extremists. We argue that these were more likely to become war casualties. Many young fanatic Nazi supporters volunteered for the Waffen-SS, which had particularly high casualty rates. We show that in places with more anti-Semitic activity, fewer men born in the 1920s survived and entered our sample (SI Appendix, section A.4). [To proxy for the extent of anti-Semitic activity in the 1920s and 30s, we use measures from ref. 17 for anti-Semitic actions and violence: attacks on synagogues, deportations of Jews, anti-Semitic letters to the Nazi pamphlet Der Stürmer, and pogroms against Jews.]

In combination, these results suggest that Nazi indoctrination--in school, through propaganda, and in youth organizations--successfully instilled strongly anti-Semitic attitudes in the cohorts that grew up under the Nazi regime, and that the differential effect is still visible today, more than half a century after the fall of the Third Reich.

The strength of effects for the 1930s cohort may be surprising; children born in 1939 were only 6 y old in 1945. However, results in social psychology show high levels of ethnocentric bias at early ages. Studies from several countries demonstrate that preschool children already exhibit in-group favoritism and out-group dislike ( 18- 21). In addition, memoirs of Germans who grew up under the Nazis speak eloquently of how as early as age 5 and 6, they were being indoctrinated in nationalist ideology and racial hatred ( 22, 23). [Alfons Heck, who rose to a high position in the Hitler Youth before the end of the war, describes how "we five- and six-year olds knew nothing of the freedom...of the Weimar Republic. More than any other political party, the NSDAP recognized that those who control the children own the future. We swallowed our daily dose of nationalistic instruction as naturally as our morning milk."]

Amplifying Prejudice.

What made Nazi indoctrination so powerful? In the following, we examine two competing explanations: ( i) the extent to which Nazi propaganda confirmed preexisting prejudices among the local population, and ( ii) regional variation in the implementation of Nazi indoctrination efforts, proxied by media exposure and the strength of the Nazi party organization. We find strong evidence for the former but much less for the latter, lending support to theories that emphasize the importance of confirmation bias in shaping attitudes and beliefs ( 24).

Schooling changed in character everywhere, and historical accounts emphasize the importance of this channel. In addition, we examine interactions with preexisting anti-Jewish sentiment. To this end, we compile data on voting behavior from the late 19th and early 20th century--long before the Nazis' rise to power. Soon after the founding of the German Empire in 1870, anti-Semitism emerged as a political force. For example, a petition in 1881 urged the government to restrict immigration of Jews, ban them from teaching professions and the army, and revoke their emancipation and access to equal rights. It was signed by 265,000 supporters and presented to Chancellor Bismarck. From the 1890s onward, political parties with an exclusively anti-Jewish agenda competed in national elections. Although the anti-Semitic parties never received a high share of the national vote, electoral support exceeded 40% in some districts (see SI Appendix, section A.5 for details).

We combine historical voting records with the modern-day survey data for all 264 locations in our sample. As indicators of historical anti-Jewish sentiment, we use the average vote shares of anti-Semitic parties between 1890 and 1912. As a first step, we show that attitudes on average persisted in the same location--where voters turned to anti-Jewish parties in the 1890s and 1900s, they are still much more anti-Semitic today. In Fig. 2 , we group all electoral districts according to the tercile of the vote share for anti-Semitic parties between 1890 and 1912. [The data are from six parliamentary elections over the period 1890-1912. Anti-Semitic parties in these elections are classified according to Schmädeke ( 25). We describe these parties in more detail in SI Appendix, section A.5.] The long arm of the past is clearly visible in the share of committed anti-Semites ( Fig. 2 , Left). In locations that were in the lowest third of districts supporting anti-Semitic parties before 1914, only a little more than 2% of respondents are committed anti-Semites today. In places in the top third of support for the anti-Semitic parties, this proportion rises to nearly 8%, a fourfold increase compared with localities in the bottom third of historical support for anti-Semitic parties. These differences are statistically highly significant, as indicated by the 95% confidence intervals. In Fig. 2 ( Right), we confirm this pattern for broad anti-Semitism ( AS broad). Attitudes in Germany today are markedly more negative toward Jews in towns and cities in the upper third of historical support for anti-Jewish parties, compared with the lowest third, as indicated by the 20% higher average score.

Table 3 examines these patterns statistically, using pre-WWI voting for anti-Semitic parties as an explanatory variable. Because anti-Semitic parties were typically small, they did not put forward candidates in all cities for all elections. To deal with the resulting missing vote shares, we present results for three different samples. Sample (a) includes all cities, treating those without anti-Semitic candidates as zero votes [thus sample (a) implicitly assumes that where anti-Semitic parties before WWI did not put forward candidates, they would have won zero (or very few) votes]; sample (b) drops these observations; and sample (c) only includes cities where anti-Semitic parties presented candidates in at least three out of the six elections between 1890 and 1912. Thus, by going from sample (a) to (c), we use increasingly precise information on pre-WWI anti-Semitism. However, this comes at the cost of sample size: the number of cities falls from 264 in sample (a) to 160 in sample (b), and to 46 in sample (c). [SI Appendix, section A.5 shows the distribution of vote shares for anti-Semitic parties for the three samples.]

Table 3.

Dependent variable

Committed anti-Semites (AS comm)

Broad anti-Semitism (AS broad)

Standard coefficient †

[0.7%]

[0.9%]

[1.0%]

[2.1%]

[0.07]

[0.11]

[0.10]

[0.18]

N (individual)

4,802

3,105

2,594

806

4,622

2,996

2,504

921

N (cities)

264

160

41

47

264

160

141

47

R ²
0.004

0.010

0.137

0.226

We present results with and without controls. The latter include several individual- and city-level characteristics, including age, education, city size, and the share of foreigners living in a location, as well as historical city characteristics. We find strong and significant effects of historical anti-Semitism in all specifications, for both the share of extremists in a location (columns 1-4) and average levels of Jew-hatred (columns 5-8). To illustrate the magnitude of effects, we compute how much the dependent variable changes in response to a 1-SD increase in the vote share of pre-WWI anti-Semitic parties. Such an increase goes hand-in-hand with a rise of 0.7-2.1% in the share of committed anti-Semites (relative to a sample average of 4.8%), and it is associated with a broad anti-Semitism score today that is 0.07-0.18 points higher (equivalent to 6-16% of an SD). The results hold across all possible definitions of the relevant sample. [SI Appendix, section A.6 shows that this also holds if we restrict the sample to individuals born after 1945.]

Having shown that anti-Semitism persisted locally in Germany throughout the 20th century, we analyze the extent to which preexisting anti-Semitic sentiment ( i) favored Nazi indoctrination, and ( ii) was, in turn, reinforced during the Nazi regime. In Table 4 , we regress individual-level measures of committed and broad Jew-hatred on the share of voters for anti-Semitic parties pre-1914, a birth decade dummy, and an interaction effect between these two variables. The interaction effect reflects whether Nazi indoctrination was particularly effective in regions with a history of anti-Semitic sentiment. We find strong support for a magnification effect, for both committed and broad anti-Semitism (columns 1 and 4). This pattern also holds when we add control variables (columns 2 and 5), and when defining the longer period 1920-1939 as the birth years exposed to Nazi indoctrination (columns 3 and 6).

Table 4.

Dependent variable

Committed anti-Semites (AS comm)

Broad anti-Semitism (AS broad)

Birth cohorts dummy ( D b)

1930-1939

1920-1939

−1930-1939-

1920-1939

D b
0.0479***

0.0431***

0.0364***

0.332***

0.285***

0.317***

D b × ASvote

0.333**

0.399**

0.193**

2.102***

2.028***

1.578***

N
4,802

4,150

4,150

4,622

3,993

3,993

R ²
0.015

0.043

0.039

0.022

0.117

0.122

These findings illustrate the extent to which Nazi indoctrination reinforced local persistence of anti-Semitism. Approximately 17% of the individuals in our sample belong to the birth cohort 1930-1939. Thus, the interaction term in our baseline specification with controls (column 2) implies a total coefficient on ASvote of 0.0438+0.17 × 0.399 = 0.11, i.e., more than double the coefficient for other cohorts (0.0438). [The results in Table 4 are obtained using the full sample (a) from Table 3 . In SI Appendix, section A.7, we show that results are very similar when using samples (b) or (c). Also, because interaction effects cannot be readily interpreted in Probit models, we run ordinary least square (OLS) regressions throughout, including for committed anti-Semitism.] In addition, we show that in towns and cities where indoctrination was most effective--and the share of extremists in the 1930s cohort is particularly high--there is markedly higher anti-Semitism also among those born after 1945, 1955, 1965, and even after 1975 (SI Appendix, section A.6). [This is true even after controlling for historical anti-Semitism. This implies that effective indoctrination in the 1930s created an "echo effect," with the share of committed anti-Semites higher than one would expect based on historical anti-Semitism alone.] These findings suggest that by reinforcing preexisting racial hatred, Nazi indoctrination contributed importantly to the long-term persistence of anti-Semitism in Germany. And conversely, the strong interaction with preexisting attitudes suggests that confirmation bias played an important role in shaping anti-Semitic beliefs.

We also examine other possible explanations for the success of Nazi indoctrination. Youth growing up in 1930s Germany were also exposed to propaganda in school and the National Socialist (NS) youth organizations (both were universal across Nazi Germany); the "modern" media film and radio also had a decidedly anti-Semitic slant (but their coverage varied by region). Similarly, the local strength of Nazi party organization may have fostered indoctrination, while suppressing voices from the opposition. To evaluate the relative importance of these proxies for the local intensity of propaganda, we exploit their regional variation. We use data on the number of radio subscribers, cinema seats, and of Nazi party members on a per-capita basis in each city. The data and results are described in detail in SI Appendix, section A.8. We find that these variables have no predictive power for the additional rise in anti-Semitism among the cohorts who grew up under the Nazis (effects are insignificant, with tight confidence intervals around zero). This suggests that--at least among the impressionable young cohorts--spatial variation in the intensity of propaganda was of minor importance, relative to the huge and universal indoctrination in schools and youth organizations.

In contrast, we have shown that regional variation in pre-WWI anti-Semitic votes is strongly associated with indoctrination. This suggests that broad compatibility of Nazi ideology with preexisting beliefs was important. Our results provide empirical support for Goebbels' famous argument that propaganda can only be effective if it is broadly in line with preexisting notions and beliefs ( 26). These findings suggest that the universal Nazi indoctrination in schools and youth organizations was highly effective, and especially so if it could build on preexisting anti-Semitic prejudices.

Conclusions

Whereas a rich literature in economics has documented that attitudes can persist a long time ( 27, 28), much less is known about cultural change ( 7, 29, 30). Few governments in history were more ambitious in their attempt to indoctrinate the population than the Nazi regime in Germany, and it particularly focused on the young. Our findings demonstrate that beliefs of Germans in their first decades of life were strongly malleable. Using data on racial attitudes today, more than half a century after the end of the Third Reich, we show that propaganda and schooling were highly effective in changing attitudes and beliefs of those growing up under the Nazis.

German racial beliefs show a high degree of persistence--locations with a past of anti-Jewish voting even before WWI are still markedly more anti-Semitic today. We also document a magnification effect; Nazi schooling was particularly effective where the population had previously held anti-Semitic beliefs. Nazi propaganda and schooling increased the number of youngsters who became fervent anti-Semites especially in those towns and cities where Germans in the 1890s and 1900s had voted heavily in favor of anti-Jewish parties. Conversely, where few Germans had shown signs of racial hatred before WW I, Nazi indoctrination made much smaller inroads into the collective psyche of the young. As one former member of the Hitler Youth later put it: "We who were born into Nazism never had a chance unless our parents were brave enough to resist the tide and transmit their opposition to their children. There were few of those" ( 23). This finding is in line with a broader pattern of social interactions, where attitudes and behaviors become more appealing the more common they already are, leading to social multiplier effects ( 31)--anti-Semitism among those subjected to Nazi education became particularly attractive where it was compatible with preexisting beliefs.

These findings have implications for our understanding of culture more generally. The fact that Nazi indoctrination was particularly effective in areas where anti-Semitic beliefs were already widespread suggests that confirmation bias may play an important role in intensifying attitudes toward minorities. This is in line with models where beliefs overreact to new information that confirms existing stereotypes ( 12). Thus, attitudes and beliefs may work as heuristic "rules of thumb" ( 32, 33) that help to economize on cognitive resources in making costly decisions under uncertainty ( 34).

Footnotes

The authors declare no conflict of interest.

This article is a PNAS Direct Submission.

Data deposition: The German General Social Survey (ALLBUS) data used in this paper are publicly available on-site at the German Social Science Infrastructure Services (GESIS) research facility in Cologne, Germany. The ALLBUS data were enriched with community-level data on Imperial elections and indicators of anti-Semitism (which are also publicly available) during a research visit at the GESIS Secure Data Center. Institutional Review Board (IRB) approval was not needed for the study because the survey had been conducted by GESIS.

This article contains supporting information online at www.pnas.org/lookup/suppl/doi:10.1073/pnas.1414822112/-/DCSupplemental.

References

2. Schein EH. 1956. The Chinese indoctrination program for prisoners of war. Psychiatry: Interpersonal and Biological Processes 19(2):149-172.

8. Kershaw I. 1983. How effective was Nazi Propaganda. Nazi Propaganda: The Power and the Limitations, ed Welch D (Routledge, London), pp 180-205.

10. Brennecke F. 1937. Vom deutschen Volk und seinem Lebensraum, Handbuch für die Schulungsarbeit in der Hitler Jugend (F Eher, Munchen, Germany) [ The German People and Its Living Space: Handbook for Schooling in the Hitler Youth]

13. GESIS - Leibniz Institute for the Social Sciences 2005. German General Social Survey - ALLBUS 1996, ZA3751 data file version 1.0.0 (GESIS Data Archive, Cologne), 10.4232/1.3751.

14. GESIS - Leibniz Institute for the Social Sciences 2008. German General Social Survey - ALLBUS 2006, ZA4502 data file version 1.0.0 (GESIS Data Archive, Cologne), 10.4232/1.10110.

15. GESIS - Leibniz Institute for the Social Sciences 2013. Allbus/GGSS 1980-2012. German General Social Survey ALLBUS - Kumulation 1980-2012: Sensitive Geographical Data, ZA5260 data file version 2.0.0 (GESIS Data Archive, Cologne), 10.4232/1.11639.

18. Vaughan GM. The development of ethnic attitudes in New Zealand school children. Genet Psychol Monogr. 1964;70:135-175. [[ PubMed] Google Scholar]

21. Aboud FE. The formation of in-group favoritism and out-group prejudice in young children: Are they distinct attitudes? Dev Psychol. 2003;39(1):48-60. [[ PubMed] Google Scholar]

25. Schmädeke J. 2001. Voter Movement in Wilhelminian Germany. The Reichstag Elections of 1890 to 1912, GESIS Data Archive, Cologne, Germany, ZA8145 Data file Version 1.0.0.

31. Scheinkman JA. 2008. Social interactions. New Palgrave Dictionary of Economics (Palgrave Macmillan, New York), 2nd Ed.

34. Nunn N. 2012. Culture and the historical process. Econ Hist Dev Reg 27(sup1):S108-S126.

Articles from Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the United States of America are provided here courtesy of National Academy of Sciences

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Nazi indoctrination and anti-Semitic beliefs in Germany

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Attempts at modifying public opinions, attitudes, and beliefs range from advertising and schooling to "brainwashing." Their effectiveness is highly controversial. We demonstrate that Nazi indoctrination--with its singular ...

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This a scholarly article because not only is the author a direct affiliate with the University of California, Los Angeles but also the type of language used. Furthermore, this article includes a references section, uses in-text citations, and has a keywords bank. This article also includes formulas and statistics to back up the claim, as well as tables and graphs.

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I think this article is exciting in the sense that it provides an analysis of how Nazi propaganda and schooling continue to shape attitudes toward Jews in modern German society. With the survey data spanning several decades, it's interesting to see the long-term impact of Nazi enlightenment on the hatred of Jews.

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This source discusses the return of far-right nationalism in Germany, as shown by the rise of the Alternative for Germany (AFD) party. Despite post-World War II efforts to confront and learn from the Nazi past, nationalism, and superior racial views have returned. Economic disappointments, concerns about immigration, and frustration with the current government all contribute to the AFD's popularity, particularly in the eastern states of Germany. The party's tactics have elements of historical propaganda methods, relying on fears and frustration to win votes, especially with young people.

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Germans thought they were immune to nationalism after confronting their Nazi past. They were wrong

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Kirsten Grieshaber

Informational Article (Popular)

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This source can be classified as a Popular article. It provides a broad reach and accessibility for lots of people. The information is intended to inform and educate the general public about the important global issue of far-right political parties.

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I find this article unsettling because it gives an unsettling depiction of modern Germany, highlighting the disturbing return of far-right nationalism and racism. Despite decades of efforts to confront the Nazi past, the country continues to deal with the concerning popularity of parties such as the AFD, whose beliefs appeal to a significant portion of the population. It's truly a shame to see that these parties still exist in modern society.

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Benjamin Jensen

William Bowers

Informational Article (Popular)

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Between Aug. 7, 1942, and Feb. 9, 1943, U.S. forces sought to capture - and then defend - the Pacific island of Guadalcanal from the Japanese military. What started as an amphibious landing quickly turned into a series of massive air and naval battles. The campaign marked a major turning point in the Pacific theater of World War II. It also revealed important lessons about the nature of warfare itself - ones that are particularly relevant when planning for conflict in the 21st century.

Specifically, the Guadalcanal campaign shows how the old saying "the best defense is a good offense" can be turned upside-down - with a strong defense becoming an effective offensive weapon. The Japanese sought to find weaknesses, but kept running up against American power on land, on the sea and in the air.

As scholars and military professionals, we see Guadalcanal as teaching enduring lessons about the importance of integrating planning, training and technology to generate options that confound an adversary. We are not alone. The Chinese Navy's official magazine recently published an article analyzing the Guadalcanal campaign for lessons useful in future wars.

Defense as offensive strategy

In early August 1942, the United States landed Marines and other troops on Guadalcanal, taking much of the island and capturing its airfields. Initially, it was an offense-as-defense strategy, part of a larger effort to capture the Solomon Islands, so Japan couldn't use them as a base for attacking Allied naval forces in the Pacific.

Japanese resistance took a heavy toll, especially on the U.S. Navy, which lost 29 ships and thousands of sailors. But the Japanese efforts did more lasting damage to its own military, expending pilots, aircraft and ships Japan simply could not replace fast enough to sustain the war. The U.S., by contrast, had a vast population and enormous industrial potential, and was able to replace its losses and even reinforce its positions.

Realizing the Japanese had committed to retaking Guadalcanal no matter the cost, the U.S. strategy shifted to defense-as-offense, or what is called a " cost imposition" campaign. It's most often seen as a business strategy, but can be applied to military efforts too.

In general, cost imposition involves making it very expensive - in personnel, equipment and time - for an adversary to achieve a particular goal. This presents the enemy with a serious dilemma: Giving up means certain defeat, of course, but continuing to compete decreases the likelihood of winning.

At Guadalcanal, the Japanese fell prey to the " sunk costs fallacy," deciding that because they had spent so much already, they should just keep going. They found their battleships matched not only against the U.S. warships and planes, but also bulldozers, as U.S. Marines repaired key airfields in between barrages of shelling from Japanese ships offshore.

While the Japanese Navy expended round after round of ammunition, American planes were still able to take off and land, conducting repeated raids that sank or damaged the Japanese warships.

Drone swarms, advance bases and cyber defense

Today, the United States faces a complex mix of threats. Global powers like Russia and China use politics and economics as well as military strength to achieve their goals. Terrorists and hackers spread fear, uncertainty and social discord within the U.S. All of that puts the U.S. at risk of ending up on the wrong side of cost-imposition efforts from adversaries big and small.

Expensive aircraft carriers and advanced aircraft can be threatened by much cheaper missiles wielded by extremists. Hackers can threaten military bases and weapons - as well as civilian infrastructure like power plants.

In our view, the U.S. military therefore needs a new approach to defense strategy. First, the country needs entirely new classes of cheap, disposable drones that engage targets on land, at sea and in the air. For example, low-cost drone swarms could help U.S. Marine forces threaten enemy naval and ground assets, while counter-drone systems protect U.S. forces. Like Guadalcanal's bulldozers, they would offer a cheap way to keep the enemy under threat.

Second, Guadalcanal also highlights the importance of being able to rapidly build and defend advance bases. Into the future, the U.S. Marine Corps will need to be able to construct and repair airfields. They'll also need to be able to use those locations as airplane, drone and missile bases to attack enemy forces.

In addition, those bases can block the enemy from using key terrain, and give the U.S. multiple options if a strike is needed. Those factors again raise the cost of conflict and competition for a potential adversary.

Education matters, too

A further lesson from the Guadalcanal campaign is that it's vital to integrate new technology into training, so Marines and sailors know how to use new capabilities. In early August 1942, the U.S. Navy suffered one of its worst-ever defeats in the Battle of Savo Island. American and allied forces lost four cruisers, while the Japanese Navy suffered little damage.

The U.S. had a significant technological advantage, but didn't use it: radar. Few ship captains and crews understood how radar worked, much less how to use it in battle. One captain, Howard Bode of the USS Chicago, ordered his ship's radar turned off, for fear it would reveal his position.

Later on, in the Battle of the Santa Cruz Islands in October 1942, the U.S. ships again did not use their radars. The Japanese used their searchlights to spot American aircraft at night, controlling the battle in the darkness and sinking one U.S. aircraft carrier and severely damaging another.

The lesson remains important in the 21st century: Failing to experiment with new capabilities, whether radar in the 1940s or cyber operations and drone swarms today, diminishes battle readiness. That's why the Marine Corps University created war-gaming fight clubs and training programs that let students imagine future conflicts and experiment with how to respond.

Battles can be won before the first shot is fired, if future leaders prepare in classrooms and training for what they might face and how they might find advantages when conflict comes - whether online, in space or elsewhere.

[ Thanks for reading! We can send you The Conversation's stories every day in an informative email. Sign up today. ]

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A World War II battle holds key lessons for modern warfare

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
A defender that can hold out while inflicting greater losses on its attacker can wear down an adversary - reducing the threat of additional attacks.

# data[].attributes.body
The article looks at the Guadalcanal campaign of World War II, highlighting its significance for modern warfare strategies. Using similarities to current challenges, the article addresses the importance of combining planning, training, and technology to surprise enemies and maintain a strategic advantage. It suggests that innovative approaches, such as low-cost, disposable drone swarms and rapid construction of advanced bases, are required to counter new threats. Furthermore, it underlines the importance of educating military personnel about new technologies to maximize their combat effectiveness. In essence, the Guadalcanal campaign is a lesson in adaptive warfare, emphasizing the importance of preparedness to anticipate and reduce new threats in today's ever-changing battlefield.

# data[].attributes.body
This article is classified as a trade article because it provides historical information relevant to a specific industry, in this case, military and defense history. While it draws on historical events and military strategy, it does so in a way that is clear to a larger audience outside the classroom.

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I like that the article gives insights into military strategy and the application of historical lessons to modern defense planning. It's cool to see it highlight the importance of planning, training, and technology to effectively counter enemies. As well as see the authors connect what works and what doesn't between past conflicts and apply them to current challenges.