Introduction

“Weichselland/the area today corresponding to the Vistula River and Krakow, Poland/ is free. Through the deeds of the Führer, old German Folkland/…/has been brought back to the Reich” (p. III, our translation). Archaeologist Hans Reinerth in late 1939, defending the Nazi occupation of Poland, while introducing a new edition of a small text on Neolithic ceramics from today’s Poland, written by his teacher Gustaf Kossinna.

The quotation from the archaeologist Reinerth above is related to the direct use of archaeology as an ideological tool, and, in this case, as a defense of military action, more specifically the Nazi occupation of Poland. The existence of ‘Germans,’ inferred from Neolithic ceramics (which are, then, supposed to be ‘German’) is the key to the argument. Already in the Neolithic, according to the argument, there were proto-Germans and Germans in the area, and this is considered an important part of the defense of the military occupation of Poland in 1939. Reinerth was an influential person in German archaeology at the time, being in charge of the ‘cultural heritage’ and ‘archaeology’ section of the ruling NSDAP (National Socialist German Workers’ Party). Reinerth was at this time also the editor of the influential archaeological journal, Mannus, and in 1940 he created a special section on prehistory and war, including, for example, an article on the role of archaeology in the occupation of Poland (Frentzel 1940). Archaeologists have observed and noted this use of archaeology, and there have been many publications referring to it in different ways (cf. Arnold 1990, 1997; Moberg 1984). However, what has been much less addressed in archaeology is the actual content of such ideological arguments. Often, the discussion on content stays at a very general level, though there are some exceptions. Arnold (1990, 2006) has contributed importantly to the topic but focused largely on other more general dimensions than those discussed in this article. Here, we address certain aspects of the ideological content in a limited number of specific cases related to Nazi Germany. We also look at how this content is related to previously existing ideas, which may be considerably twisted and adapted, but which are still of key importance. For Nazi Germany, one of the more important intellectual sources of inspiration came from prior German authors of the late 18th century and 19th centuries. In other cases, the inspiration may well reside elsewhere, and those sources of inspiration should be uncovered. Although in certain ways the Nazi case is unique, it is illuminating at a more general level.

Even though migration is not the focus of this paper, the investigation of the connection between archaeology and Nazi ideology has become increasingly pertinent with the growing interest in migration theories and the use of archaeogenetics to describe ancient populations. The convergence of these interests stimulates thoughtful contemplation about historical prejudices and the possible misapplication of scientific expertise. An awareness of how archaeology was used and manipulated within Nazi ideology during the early 20th century highlights the significance of remaining vigilant against ideologies that distort scholarly investigation and perpetuate damaging myths. Furthermore, although archaeogenetics provides valuable information on the migration patterns of humans and their genetic origins, it is important to approach it from a historical perspective and with caution to prevent its misuse (e.g., Andersson 2023; Furholt 2018; Hakenbeck 2019). A particular problem lies in how archaeological data relate to genetics, and the problems in this area of research needs to be addressed in more detail in future research.

There is an extensive body of literature pertaining to our subject matter. Although we acknowledge the existence of other significant contributions, the texts we have selected are specifically chosen for their direct pertinence to our research emphasis, which is the actual content of the archaeological ideological narratives. Considering the extent and constraints of our analysis, it is not feasible to incorporate every published study on Nazi archaeology. However, the sources we emphasize here provide a thorough basis and underscore the relation between ideology and archaeology, rather than concentrating on the political misapplication of archaeological by the NSDAP. The works presented here embody a well-balanced and analytical viewpoint that is essential for our study.

Ideology

Our use of the term ‘ideology’ is relatively simple. In this context, we do not attempt a rigorous definition or even a more elaborated characterization of the concept of ideology. We have chosen ideology over propaganda, since we see the problem as larger than mere propaganda. The term ‘propaganda’ has, however, been used efficiently, like in Doob’s famous article on Goebbels from 1950. But it is not sufficient, and we think we need a broader approach (Doob 1950).

We use the term ‘ideology’ for oral and written narratives and isolated expressions, imagery, and physical ‘theatrical’ arrangements, all related to arguments and narratives aimed at keeping a situation under some control, of defending and propagating a certain kind of order and a certain kind of action, in this case the framework of politics and war. Our main source of inspiration has been the critical theory approach developed by Theodor Adorno and others in the 1930s. Adorno can be said to be one of the key authors in relation to ideology. Like Bernbeck and McGuire (2011, p. 58), we insist on the value of the concept of ideology and prefer it to choosing an all-covering structuralist approach, like that of Michel Foucault (1969). In Foucault’s approach, there is no ideology in the sense discussed here, only general all-covering general structures of thought.

Much of Adorno’s arguments relate to an analysis of Nazi ideology, notably in the large Authoritarian Personality Project in the 1940s (e.g., Adorno et al. 1950), in which he played a key role, and in his critical studies on Heidegger (e.g., 1964). Adorno in his critical discussion on ‘ideology’ notably addressed a particular concept in the philosophy of Martin Heidegger, Eigentlichkeit (Adorno 1964). Heidegger was a highly intelligent and at times interesting philosopher, but he also adhered to key notions of Nazism and even tried to adapt, at least during certain periods, his philosophy to it. The latter is, for example, visible in some speeches from 1935, in which he speaks of ‘being,’ his main concept, as corresponding to ‘the Vaterland’ (see Heidegger 1980, p. 121). He also worked for the Nazi state as an intellectual and an administrator, notably as the Rector of the University of Freiburg for some years (Cornell 2017; Otto 1988). The term Eigentlichkeit is hard to translate from German, but it has to do with authenticity, of something pure, an essence and something absolute, being truly ‘ideal-real’ in the context of humans. When we look at Nazi ideology and certain prior strands in German philosophy, scholarly works, literature, and art, we see that this idea of the pure, the essential, the absolute concept was paramount and that it played a major role. This, we hope, will be evident from the examples discussed in this article. Critical theory, or the Frankfurter School, has been used previously in archaeology, for example by Mark Leone (e.g., Leone 1984), and by other historical archaeologists, but is not a major theme in archaeology. We stress, that although we are inspired by Adorno and his way of working ideology, we do not coincide with him at all points.

Ideology does not need full logical consistency, and large parts could be seen as strong complex imagery rather than narratives. Ideology is used largely to invoke certain feelings and certain emotions, which are in themselves supposed to stimulate certain actions. Further, in a particular given context and contingency, there will be changes in selected themes and terms. Thus, looking for a full systematic field with logical consistency obstructs the identification of ideology instead of helping. Still, there generally are certain recurrent themes and orientation, and at another level, certain images, words, and even attempts at (often fragmented) narratives.

Ideology is in part consciously created. Arnold (2004, p. 203) has stressed the importance of a given political leader (a dictator notably), and there are certainly several examples of that in history. This is fairly evident when it comes to Nazi ideology in general, where, just to take an example, Adolph Hitler’s book, Mein Kampf (My Struggle, our translation), the first volume of which was published in 1925, had an impact on this ideology and helped make it. However, this book (written not only by Hitler) is not at all sufficient when it comes to characterizing Nazi ideology, even if it undoubtedly expresses some of the major elements. Hitler himself (we come briefly back to this) had a limited interest in prehistory, and the relevance for prehistory largely came from other Nazi leaders and from a preexisting set of texts and arguments. While ideology is in part a conscious creation, it is more than that. There are always previously existing elements that are used and worked on in the process of making ideology. In the case of Nazi Germany, these previously existing elements largely came from previous ‘intellectual’ developments in Germany, in philosophy, art, and literature.

The general impact of ideology has largely to do with it becoming a given, something having the appearance of being ‘only pure truth.’ Ideology becomes strong when it reaches this point. From a theoretical point of view, we refer to Jean-Paul Sartre (1960), who criticized and argued about the making of Nazi ideology. In Sartrean terminology, ‘group’ action is a shared conscious action. Serial action on the other hand is what we do because we ‘always’ have, or actions in which we just follow others, without much reflection (e.g., the concept of routine in Giddens 1984). In the making of ideology, these two levels interrelate.

During certain time periods, and in connection with certain kinds of less democratic or undemocratic regimes, the theatrical element in political ideology becomes particularly strong. This counts both for the German Nazi regime (Amer 1996; Anselm 2023; Hagen 2008; Hagen and Ostergren 2006) and the Fascist regime in Italy, which both excelled in the theatrical, involving large construction projects as part of these displays. Particularly in Italy this also involved demolishment and exhibition of a limited number of selected elements from the past, often heavily transformed in the process of restoration (e.g., Cederna 1979; De Marco 2011; Gentili 2010; Leone and Margiotta 2007).

We stress that ideology is always an articulation to (but not a description of) practical issues of politics, technology, and not least socio-economy. Ideology does not evolve only from ‘ideas.’ Karl Marx (1962 [1867]), as is well known, addressed a kind of thinking created in the framework of capitalism, which notably considers money as the maker of money (in itself). This ideology disregards the importance of actual production, technology, distribution, and exchange, which are regarded as only the effects of money. Marx did not seem to use the term ‘ideology’ here, but it could be considered a kind of ideology. Ideology in this sense is never based on just sudden ‘ideas’ or fantasy. It is based in part on something ‘real.’ It uses elements of practice, social forms as well as certain ‘traditional’ ideas from a given context in which it operates and highlights these at the expense of other elements. Simultaneously, ideology introduces certain new ideas and categories into the setup. Generally, ideology establishes a very distorted, twisted, and often, when analyzed, somewhat unhomely image of society.

The German Background: Historical Development

We begin by stressing a small complication in translation. In the German language, Deutschland is the name of the country, while Germanen are the people of Germanic identity, which is a wider concept. The English word Germany is thus difficult. Still, we have decided to largely keep to the words Germany and German in this text.

It is, in our perspective, impossible to get a good grip on the development of ideas or ideology if not considering the general social, economic, technological, and political background. Here, we cannot more than briefly hint at some relevant features, but in any future study, these factors should be given due attention and be fully integrated in the analysis. First, what we may call Germany was by 1800 a formally united area, but in actuality it was composed of many independent political units. The German Reich, however, slowly came to be a truly integrated entity in a slow process during the 19th century. In 1871, a major change took place, in which most previously independent entities became formally unified under the Prussian crown. Examining this process slightly in more detail, we clearly see how Germany changed in profound ways in the 19th century, not least as regards its territorial extension. Formal state control over the territory had been strengthened considerably, in fact, it had undergone a deep change. Many small states (‘kingdoms,’ etc.) had been united into one ‘nation,’ the German nation. The process whereby this unification was realized was complex and involved several steps. In 1815–1866 ‘Germany’ was called Der Deutsche Bund. In 1867–1871 it was the North German Bund, a ‘northern’ alliance claiming their right to the concept of Deutsch. In 1871–1918 it was the Deutsches Reich, under an emperor, and by 1918 it was the Deutsches Reich, as a republic. The territorial extension varied considerably, as did the political organization. The German Bund in the beginning of the 19th century was indeed a loose federation. Several of the monarchies, integrated in the Bund, had monarchs that also were monarchs elsewhere. Just to mention a few, the king of Hannover was the king of Britain, Luxemburg was a personal union with the Netherlands, and Holstein shared its monarch with Denmark. A part of the empire of Austria/Hungary belonged to this Bund, and only part of Prussia was a member of the Bund.

Along with this political transformation there were major changes in economic and social organization, with the gradual advance of industrial and technological developments. Germany became a leader in technological development and an important industrial country. Yet, these changes were not evenly distributed across the Reich, and social and economic conditions varied considerably in different parts of Germany. In certain parts of the north, serfdom had been a salient feature; this system continued to exist to some extent during the initial industrialization, even though for a period it was integrated into the industrial setting. In the south, for example in Bavaria, there were more relatively independent farmers, and this area saw an advance in agriculture rather than in advanced industrialization. In sum, the differences across Germany were immense, and this is an important factor to consider. There were also major differences in religion, for example with Catholic dominance in Bavaria, while Prussia was dominated by Lutheranism but also harbored Catholics and Jews in relatively large numbers.

Thus, with the advent of the First World War, Germany entered as a relatively strong economy. However, the war had disastrous effects. Industrial production is said to have gone down 40% from 1914 to 1918. Total military deaths have been estimated at circa 2 million. After the war, the country had severe problems, even in distributing food to the population. The black market became a prominent feature, and inflation became a major problem. It took several years for the industrial sector to recuperate. Thus, it is no wonder that the political context was extremely complex in the Weimar Republic, which replaced the previously monarchic Germany after the First World War (Bohse 1988).

In this long process, and in the context of all these changes, there also was an intellectual development that played an important role. Here, we briefly address the appearance of systematic racism in European thinking and some aspects of the emergent German thinking. To summarize, Germany went from being an idea on paper to a reality with an expanding economy and educational system. This new entity was remarkably different from other European superpowers of the time. It had fewer international holdings. Further, the 18th century Enlightenment was not a factor of the same relevance in the history of the nation, as was the case in, say, France. Many historians and philosophers have discussed this. As two examples, Christian von Krockow (1990) has addressed some of these problems in a general book on the German 20th century, and the philosopher Plessner, himself a personal witness to parts of the process, developed an intricate argument concerning these differences, discussing ‘the retarded nation’ (Plessner 1982).

The point we make is simply that there are noteworthy particularities in the process of nation making in Germany as compared to France or Britain. Among the patterns that the latter have in common are a stronger continuity and a much more intensive global, mainly colonial, involvement. Further, the effect of the First World War in which Germany as ‘the loser’ was significant in placing the country in a vulnerable position. As mentioned, the years after the war also were difficult, with an unstable political situation, including several violent uprisings and conflicts, and a precarious economy (not least the unemployment and hyperinflation). The post-First World War setting is of great importance for discussing German archaeology of the first half of the 20th century.

Gobineau and Systematic Racism

There is, likewise, a lot to be said about the historical background to the scientific racism that would later be manifested as a major part of Nazi ideology. Among those most influential for the NSDAP’s view on race was the thinking of the renowned French diplomat, writer, and philosopher Arthur de Gobineau (1816–1882), who had slowly become of major importance in the general debate. Gobineau was well known for his contentious and impactful beliefs concerning race and the concept of racial stratification. He believed in a strict hierarchy of races. The concepts he put forward exerted a substantial influence on the intellectual landscape of 19th century Europe and played a role in shaping racialist and racist views (Trigger 2006, p. 168). Among his most well-known (and we think we could say infamous) work was the Essay on the Inequality of Human Races (our translation), which is considered Gobineau’s major opus, published in six volumes (1853–1855). In this compilation Gobineau argued that there exists an inherent inequality among human races, asserting the superiority of the Aryan or ‘Nordic’ race and attributing to it a significant role in the development of human civilization. Gobineau posited the notion that the intermingling of races resulted in the deterioration of civilizations, while concurrently advocating for the preservation of racial homogeneity and the Aryan lineage (e.g., Gobineau 1853–1855). This work would hold value for the proponents of Nazi ideology since it agreed with their worldview. In these works, Gobineau often referred to ‘the three races.’ In Gobineau’s view the three fundamental races were the white, the black, and the yellow. Gobineau posited the notion that the white race, sometimes referred to as Aryans, has a higher degree of advancement and superiority compared to other races, hence asserting the inferiority of the other races and their perceived inability to attain a comparable level of civilization. Thus, according to Gobineau, different racial groups had discernible moral and intellectual attributes, and he believed that racial intermingling would result in the decline of civilization.

Gobineau insisted on the significance of racial purity and the importance of a hierarchical structure, regulating the relations between races. Amalgamation between different racial groups, particularly the intermingling of the white race with others, was seen as having a negative impact on the advancement of human society. Gobineau played a pivotal role in the emergence of scientific racism and the subsequent formation of racial ideologies. These ideas, in turn, served as a basis for the legitimization of imperialistic endeavors, colonialist practices, discriminatory actions based on racial distinctions, and eventually Nazi ideology (e.g., Smith 1989). Gobineau’s ideas further helped race become a key point in the making of nationalistic waves that swept through Europe during the 19th century. Gobineau had scholarly followers in France, who often came into conflict with German scholars, but we can only touch this question briefly in this context.

It should be noted that Gobineau was not unique in the sense that he was the only scholar writing on the topic of race. To mention just one example, the German ethnologist Gustav Klemm (1802–1867) wrote as early as 1843 that it was possible to observe creative differences depending on which race you happened to observe. Like Gobineau, he held a Eurocentric view and considered the white Europeans to be the most creative of all the known races. His work, General Cultural History of Humanity (our translation, Klemm 1843–1852), supplied a supposed scientific basis for those ethnologists or laymen who wished to invoke race in preference to anything else. Klemm’s contribution strengthened the argument that racial factors were equal or even more important to those of social or environmental character.

It is noteworthy that even if the works of men such as Gobineau and Klemm were Eurocentric, they came to be used all over the globe. The concepts of Gobineau found their way to the United States, a land in which slavery persisted in 1853. American proponents of slavery, eugenics, and racial theories incorporated a range of European racialist concepts, notably those espoused by Gobineau, to substantiate their own assertions regarding the supremacy of specific racial groupings and the imperative of maintaining racial homogeneity (Richter 1958). In Japan, Gobineau’s writings were translated into Japanese, leading to the emergence of interest among Japanese intellectuals. These intellectuals regarded some aspects of Gobineau’s theories, particularly those pertaining to racial hierarchy and the perceived superiority of certain races, to be influential and resonant. These theories coincided with Japan’s imperial aspirations during the 19th and 20th centuries (Naoko 1989, pp. 94–96).

Background to Pan-Germanism

Over the course of German intellectual history, a succession of eminent thinkers has exerted significant influence in shaping and redefining the notion of German identity. These thinkers made considerable contributions to the development and transformation of German national identity and cultural awareness. To fully comprehend what later blossomed into Nazi ideology, we take a brief step back and approach the topic from the point of view of intellectual history. There were in Germany during the 18th century and the 19th century a series of different intellectual positions that also affected the way of thinking about Germany and ideas about the “origin” of German national identity. We focus on a small number of those principal thinkers who directly addressed the question of German identity and came to influence Nazi ideology. One line of reasoning that we do not address much is the idea of an ‘out of India’ origin of European civilization, a position favored by, for example, the romantic philosopher Friedrich von Schlegel (1772–1829). In About the Language and Wisdom of Indians: A Contribution on the Bases of Antiquity, Schlegel (1808, our translation) suggested an Indian origin for the language and philosophy in European civilization. This thesis has often been discussed using the word Indo-European, and different ‘absolute’ locations of this supposed origin have been suggested. It has been very popular in certain periods, less so in others. In Germany the term Indogermans eventually became important, often with no relation to India whatsoever (e.g., Kossinna, see below).

Johann Gottfried Herder (1744–1803) played a significant and influential role in the evolution of German ‘identity.’ Herder’s work placed much emphasis on the importance of cultural identity and the distinctiveness inherent in each nation. In Herder’s seminal work, Ideas on the Philosophy of the History of Mankind (our translation, 4 volumes, Herder 1784–1791), he emphasized the significance of language, culture, and folk customs in delineating the essence of Germanness (e.g., Keßler and Leppin 2005). This laid the foundation for the development of a distinct national identity for Germany, firmly entrenched in its language and cultural heritage. Now, while this may seem a ‘normal’ approach today, it was not so at this time. The folk tradition was a way of thinking that had not previously played such an important role. In a sense, this concept also operated to criticize the feudal organization of the world, with its manifold autarchic units and relatively little interest in looking for a general folk tradition, or in looking at humanity in general. The notion of a cohesive German populace characterized by a collective sense of identity began to crystallize significantly due to the influence of Herder. A somewhat strange and funny detail in this large work by Herder is that there is a special section in the second volume, book 6, part 1, called ‘The Organization of the Peoples Near to North Pole (our translation, Organisation der Völker in der Nähe des Nordpols). The idea of the ‘north’ and the North Pole plays a certain role in Nazi ideology. Further, in book 18, section 5, Herder combines the ‘Deutschland’ (that is Germany) and ‘Nordiches Reich,’ which is interesting. Finally, another interesting notion that merits further discussion is that Herder in the fourth volume, book 16, section 2 presents the Finns, the ‘Letten,’ and Prussians (Preussen in German) together, and then the Deutsch in section 3. Thus, here Herder separates the Prussians from the Deutsch. Parenthetically we could mention that racialists who worked directly in Gobineau’s tradition in France, in relation to the German French war in 1870–1871 make this same division between the Deutsch and the Prussian and urge the Deutsch to unify with the French against the Prussians (e.g., McMahon 2007, pp. 236–247; Quatrefages 1871; Quatrefages and Hamy 1875–1882). Ouatrefages goes so far as to number certain racial characteristics of this supposed Preussian race and would make them stand out in comparison to the supposed German race, which, in this ‘logic,’ would be very similar to the French race. This, of course, created an outcry from the German scholar Rudolf Virchow in Berlin (who specialized in medicine and anthropology), who developed a partially critical approach to race, arguing that western Europe was of mixed races (Virchow 1872, 1896, 2013). Thus, from the 1870s up to the 1890s, leading German scholars argued in general against certain racist theories. However, as has been well argued by Zimmermann (1999), Virchow’s own studies helped foster the idea of a blond and a brown race in Germany. Germans were supposed to be the blond, and for example Jews or Roms were supposed to be brown. Virchow thus indirectly contributed to create the racist approach in Germany, which blossomed during the Nazi period, and in which scholars from medicine, such as Eugen Fischer, were influential (e.g., Gessler 2000). The idea of the Prussians as a separate group seems not to have been common in the 1930s or 1940s, as far as we have seen. It is interesting that certain parts of the work of the race-oriented archaeologist Kossinna in Germany (see below) seems to have been an indirect response to Quatrefages, but this is a question that requires more research.

Johann Gottlieb Fichte (1762–1814), a prominent philosopher associated with the German Idealism movement, also made notable contributions toward the advancement of the notion of a German national identity. In his seminal work titled Speeches to the German Nation (our translation, Fichte 1808), Fichte presented a persuasive argument advocating for the establishment of a cohesive German state, therefore embodying a collective consciousness of national identity. Fichte is famous for stating that the ‘I’ of history was German. His scholarly contributions were significant in shaping the intellectual milieu that ultimately paved the way for the establishment of the German Confederation in 1815, after Napoleon’s defeat. Another equally famous philosopher at this time was Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel (1770–1831). He also was a major advocate for German Idealism (e.g., Hegel 1807) and introduced philosophical ideas that influenced the concept of the German nation. Within his discourse on the philosophy of history, Hegel scrutinized the progressive evolution of countries and the consequential significance of the state in molding the collective consciousness of a nation (Sklenár̆ 1983, p. 95; Wijworra 2006). The intellectual milieu that ultimately led to the establishment of the German empire in 1871 was influenced by the German philosophical tradition and, not least, Hegel’s concepts regarding the state and history.

Another important theme in German intellectual debate at the end of the 19th century was that of the relation between natural sciences on the one hand and the humanities on the other. Wilhelm Windelband (1894) launched the idea of strong difference, arguing that natural sciences studied the lawlike, while humanities studied the unique (e.g., a people). This argument had a strong effect, and there were different positions in the Nazi camp. Rosenberg (1930), who became a key Nazi in relation to cultural issues, held a position close to Windelband, while in several Nazi-oriented archaeological studies, humanities and natural sciences were instead combined. The people, a key concept, was most often defined from a double horizon, and the natural sciences were considered to help identify the unique race.

The notion of the unified unique people was important in the German debate in the 19th century. But there also were other positions, which we cannot detail here. Suffice to mention the anthropologist Adolph Bastian, a major figure, who had the idea of a basic human unity, arguing that climate was the major cause for difference (e.g., Koepping 1983), and likewise, the dominating figure of Rudolf Virchow, mentioned above, with his critical position in relation to the concept of race, in particular in its application to Europe.

Friedrich Nietzsche (1844–1900) throughout the latter half of the 19th century posed a challenge to conventional conceptions of German identity. Nietzsche’s most famous text, Thus Spoke Zarathustra: A Book for All and Nobody (our translation, Nietzsche 1883, first volume), engaged in a critical examination of theological and moral principles while delving into the notion of the ‘Übermensch’ or overman, which is frequently considered as beyond traditional national identification. At the same time, Nietzsche did make explicit references to issues of race and its importance in German life. There was a master race, the Aryan, and an inferior race. The base of the argument actually turns out to be Virchow’s studies on race (Nietzsche 1887; Zimmermann 1999, p. 427). Nietzsche’s philosophical perspective, akin to that of his precursors, exhibits intricacy and has been variably appropriated by diverse factions across distinct temporal contexts. However, when we consider the concept of German identity and the subsequent development of Nazi ideology, it becomes challenging to refrain from employing terminologies such as Übermensch, which would later be distorted and misappropriated by the Nazi Party. The philosophical works of Friedrich Nietzsche have exerted a significant impact on several thinkers and politicians, not least in the NSDAP in general. Nietzsche has, however, also partially been criticized by important scholars in the context of Nazi Germany, notably by Martin Heidegger (1889–1976). In Heidegger’s view, Nietzsche removed the roots, consequently eliminating ‘being’ itself. It is, thus, a disrespect of the German being. Heidegger was a prominent philosopher of the 20th century who extensively explored the fundamental nature of human life and individual being. Although German identity was only occasionally in the direct center of Heidegger’s theories, his philosophical concepts prompted inquiries into the nature of individual and social identity within the contemporary era. It is difficult to refute the notion that one of the dimensions of his works (at least up to 1945) is the insistence on a German identity rooted in its historical predecessors. His work cannot be reduced to only this dimension, but it is evidently present. As to Heidegger’s opinion on different ‘ethnic’ groups, his diaries have proved to show a very negative opinion of Jewish people, for example (see Di Cesare 2016; Trawny 2014). Heidegger’s main concept, ‘being,’ corresponded essentially to the historical German ‘identity’ (Heidegger 1977, 1980). His acceptance of becoming rector of an important German university immediately after the Nazi Party took power in 1933 is relevant, given the explicit order to apply the Führer model on the university (e.g., Otto 1988). At this point he also was a member of the NSDAP. Interestingly, in 1933 only two Nazi-affiliated scholars were immediately given the position of rector, the philosopher Heidegger in Freiburg and the archaeologist Hans Hahne in Halle. Hahne actually, while being rector, wrote a poem dedicated to Hitler (Hahne 1936; cf. Hahne 1937 for his archaeological vision, close to Kossinna, see below). The application of the Führer model at the universities in Germany has generally been considered disastrous.

Institutions and Archaeology in Nazi Germany: Brief Remarks

In the framework of Nazi Germany, archaeology operated at several places and in a large variety of institutional forms, but there were three dominant institutional frameworks that played major roles in the ideological context. We do not address the exact naming of these institutions or the changes in format as they are outside the main scope here. But, generalizing and summarizing, there were three particularly important institutions. The Ahnenerbe (associated with SS and Himmler) was initially run by Hermann Wirth, a strange person and to some extent a swindler, with some wild ideas about a sunken German Atlantis, of which Nordic rock art was a remainder (e.g., Löw 2016; Ortman 1999; Wirth 1931). From 1935 it was run by Wolfram Sievers, a more administratively oriented person (Reitzenstein 2021). The Ahnenerbe was a transdisciplinary institute, with several ‘natural science’-related projects, and it also actively engaged in large archaeological fieldwork operations. Archaeologist Herbert Jankuhn became a key person, officially being head of the archaeology section from 1940 (Johansen 2002; Kater 1966, 1974; Olivier 2012). Another was the archaeology section of the Nazi Party, run by Hans Reinerth, which was associated with the so-called Amt Rosenberg. These two organizations competed to some extent over resources and status, and toward the end of the war, Ahnenerbe dominated. However, Reinerth’s section should not be underestimated, since it did publish some of the more important ideological works based on archaeology. It is interesting to note that Alfred Rosenberg, a Nazi dignitary of importance for the Reinerth group, showed a certain negative attitude toward natural science and scientific arguments. Rosenberg considered science to have a destructive potential, failing to understand the mythical aspect of history (Rosenberg 1930, cf. above). Still, Reinerth also engaged in natural science-inspired methodology, for example, dendrochronology. In general, however, Reinerth showed less interest in natural sciences than several key Ahnenerbe scholars. There also was a third large organization, the Deutsches Archaäologisches Institut (DAI, the German Archaeological Institute), which was an old institution somewhat more oriented toward classical archaeology (see Junker 1998). The Nazi government intervened considerably in the affairs of this institute, however, which mainly worked, often together with the Ahnenerbe, on the archaeology of the Mediterranean area. The journal of the DAI has some fairly normal reports of mainstream archaeology, but also some of the weirdest, which merit future attention (e.g., arguing that the Levant, including what is today Israel and/or Palestine, is, instead, old German Folkland). Actually, Hitler himself seems to have been more interested in this kind of archaeology than the archaeology of the early Germans (Olivier 2012, p. 89). But Himmler, and probably Goebbels, attached much importance to the archaeology of the early Germans, and this became paramount in the official ideology.

Albeit archaeology was primarily of service in creating the ideology of war, there were, particularly in the Ahnenerbe, certain projects that crossed the line into being active parts of war-related activities. One of the most famous of these was a project on the alleged ‘subrace’ Jewish-Bolsjewik Commissars, run by the anatomist August Hirt. Sievers, from 1943 also the head of a new institute oriented toward military scientific research in general, was much engaged in this project. There is in the Ahnenerbe files today at the Federal Archive of Germany in Berlin a document describing the goals and methodology of this project. It explicitly states that certain prisoners should be killed to create a reference collection of heads corresponding to the ‘subrace,’ which should be placed in special containers with special liquids to be well conserved. The project considered the skull insufficient for racial analysis and thus started to make a reference collection of heads (Epstein 1960; cf. Kater 1966, 1974; Pringle 2004; Reitzenstein 2021; Taylor 1992). Wolfram Sievers was executed following the Nuremburg Trials, in part because of this particular project.

Nazi Archaeology in Occupied Areas: Brief Remarks on France

German archaeologists were busy during the Second World War, at least up to and including 1943. It is remarkable that substantial investments were made in German archaeology during this war. It is not at all easy to argue for its general beneficial effects, thinking on what would have been beneficial for the Nazi state at this point. However, the Nazi government evidently considered it important. The mere fact that this fieldwork was conducted at all in itself attests to the great value attached to archaeology in Nazi ideology. There were several archaeological projects in occupied territories. As we have already mentioned, such work was performed in Poland as early as in 1939. These operations were seldom mentioned in the decades after the Second World War, at least not as operations directly related to Nazi ideology. In some cases, publications on materials from Nazi-organized fieldwork were printed but omitted the fact that soldiers and occasionally prisoners had played a major part in the field operation. The use of prisoners did not start with the war. At the large Late Iron Age settlement of Haithabu (today in northern Germany), archaeologist Herbert Jankuhn (1905–1990), associated with the Ahnenerbe organization, had used prisoners even before the war (Kater 1966). But these practices became more common with the war (see Legendre 1999).

In France, there were several instances of archaeological fieldwork in occupied areas. Laurent Olivier (2012) has studied some of these. To cite one example, there was a high intensity of fieldwork in the areas of Alsace (Elsass) and Lorraine (Lothringen), using new technologies and resulting in significant discoveries. Among the more extensive field operations we mention two, the 1941 excavation at Ennery of 82 burials, attributed to the ‘Merovingian’ period, and excavations in 1942 of the chancels at the Church Saint-Pierre-aux-Nonnains in Merz, where there were important discoveries (Olivier 2012, pp. 103–105). There also was investment in public exhibitions in relation to archaeological fieldwork. Among major arguments presented in these exhibitions is that of an important ‘Indogermanic’ colonization of the regions during the Neolithic, and that the road network in these regions was more of a German creation than Roman. In general, the importance of Germans in the history of these regions was emphasized (Olivier 2012, pp. 105–108). Another region that had a special attraction was Bretagne, where both Reinerth and Jankuhn wished to intervene (Olivier 2012, pp. 163–180). One of the ‘results’ of the studies of the German scholars, that of a certain Walther Matthes and before him Hermann Wirth, was that the Breton population was German of a Scandinavian type (Olivier 2012, pp. 151–153). In general terms, Olivier considers that the adoption of Gallic rhetoric in the Petain cultural heritage administration had a direct relation to the German occupation of major parts of France in 1940. The pro-German French administration in parts of France, the so-called Vichy government under Petain, saw a direct link between the Roman occupation of Gaul and the German occupation of France. In both cases, the Vichy government argued, these occupations had positive effects on the region. To Olivier (2012, pp. 203–219), the continued prevalence of Gallic cultural heritage, in the manner of the Vichy government, as a major French state politics in post-World War II is much disputed.

Archaeological Methodology and Ideology: Gustaf Kossinna and Oswald Menghin

To elucidate some basic elements of methodology and ideology used by the particular type of archaeology that was conducted in German-speaking countries, which came to be influential in Nazi ideology, we illustrate our case with the archaeology of two key scholars who shared a general vision but also differed in certain regards. These two scholars were Gustaf Kossinna (1858–1931) and Oswald Menghin (1888–1973). Kossinna was born in Prussia, close to the Russian border of that time, in an area that today would be part of Poland close to Lithuania, while Menghin was born in southern Tyrol, which in the 1880s was an Austrian region and today is part of Italy. Beyond any doubt, both played, directly or indirectly, a role in the making of an archaeology linked to Nazi ideology (see Borelius and Ekelund 2009; Christensen 2010; Cornell 2017; Cornell et al. 2007–2008; Grünert 2002; Haag 1980; Kolb and Perez-Gollan 2002; Leube 2002; Lichtenberger-Fenz 1988; Hassmann 2002; Obermair 2023; Urban 1996; Veit 2002).

Kossinna was born in 1858 in the minor town of Tilsit in the eastern part of the kingdom of Prussia. His father worked as a secondary school teacher. Kossinna went to school in Tilsit at the Königliche Litthauische Provinzialschule. The fact that he was born on the fringe borderlands of the German-speaking world may, perhaps, carry some relevance to his later academic pursuits where he carried the belief that the answer to the ancient Germans could be found in the northern parts of Europe. Kossinna’s early life and academic endeavors involved a myriad of various subjects, and his initial interest was that of language and history. He attended a variety of universities, including Göttingen, Leipzig, Berlin, and Strasbourg, to study classical and later Germanic philology (Cornell 2017, pp. 185–186). It was at Strasbourg University that he received his doctorate in 1887 with a focus on the high Frankish language. In addition to his general language studies, he studied local German and art history. Like basically all people studying arts, language, and philosophy at German universities, Kossinna had to learn the German intellectual traditions from the late 18th century onward. It is not a surprise that he was well acquainted with this and related to it, consciously and unconsciously.

It can thus be said that Kossinna did not immediately find himself bogged down within the archaeological discipline, but rather found such an interest later in life. Kossinna held a position as professor in Berlin from 1902. In 1908 he launched the archaeological journal Mannus, which would come to have a certain degree of influence during the early 20th century (Cornell 2017, pp. 184–185). The name of the journal refers to the supposed ‘first man’ in German mythology. The name comes from the records of Tacitus, where he claimed that Mannus was Tuisto’s son and the ancestor of the three Germanic tribes, Ingaevones, Herminones, and Istvaeones. Thus, the title of the journal fit well with core aspects of Kossinna’s research. Furthermore, Kossinna in 1909 founded the German Society for Prehistory, which later, in 1913, renamed itself into the Society for German Prehistory. The renaming of the society hints at Kossinna’s nationalistic aspiration (Sklenár̆ 1983, p. 135).

Because of this clear interest in the history of the Germanic people, it is not difficult to imagine that the unification of Germany in 1871 had an impact on his view of the world. Kossinna’s relationship with nationalism and the concept of Heimat (homeland) would likewise result in his becoming politically active toward the end of his life. Germany together with the Central Powers stood on the losing side of the Great War, and Germany was forced to give up regions that according to Kossinna were part of the German Heimatboden; thus he was opposed to the Treaty of Versailles. Kossinna’s text Weichselland expresses his opposition to the Treaty of Versailles. The article in question discusses the area around the Vistula River in present-day Poland, which Kossinna referred to as an old Heimatboden for Germans and which he believed was evident in Neolithic ceramics. This 1919 piece about the Heimat from ‘Weichsel’ has been reprinted numerous times, including 1940 (Kossinna 1940; see also Cornell et al. 2007, pp. 42–43).

Although Kossinna died before the Nazi takeover in Germany, his articles and books attest to a glorification of the German nation and the need for a ‘weapon-happy’ and ‘weapon-proud’ orientation in Germany in the 1920s to restore German glory (Kossinna 1928). He states that “only by weapon proudness can our poor people today regain their lost freedom” (“Nur Waffenstoltzes kam auch heute unserem armen Volke die verlorene Freiheit wiedergewinnen,” Kossinna 1928, p. 302, our translation). Beyond any doubt, Kossinna defended a militaristic and expansionistic view of German politics. Kossinna was never a member of the NSDAP but was associated with some Nazi-related cultural organizations (see Cornell et al. 2007–2008). Through a key publication in 1940, edited at the NSDAP publishing house by Hans Reinerth, a follower of Kossinna, the prehistoric scenario suggested by Kossinna became the official version in Nazi Germany (Reinerth 1940).

Oswald Menghin became a professor in prehistory at the University of Vienna and, for a period of time, was simultaneously a professor in Cairo, Egypt. He worked in the field in Austria, northern Africa (Menghin and Mustrafa 1932), Böhmen and Mähren (Menghin 1926), and other areas and had a relatively deep knowledge of at least certain aspects of the archaeological evidence from wide areas. Menghin, like Kossinna, linked German identity to expansionism and warfare, considered as positive traits (e.g., in relation to prehistory, Menghin 1931, p. 554). In a book on the methodology of archaeology and ethnology, Menghin also dedicated a whole chapter to explaining why Jews could not be allowed to be in Austria; he also made statements equivalent to saying that a black person is always a black person (see Geerh 1986, p. 21). It has also been demonstrated that Menghin opposed the so-called Vienna Circle of Logical Empiricism in several ways (see Stadler 1996). This group included people with varying positions but evidently far removed from Menghin’s way of thinking. Among the people associated with the Vienna Circle we mention Neurath, Carnap, Gödel, Popper, and Wittgenstein. Neurath has critical hints against Menghin in his famous text on the social sciences, published in London (Neurath 1944). The chairman of the Logical Empiricism seminar, Morits Schlick, was eventually killed by a student who criticized Schlick for a lack of patriotism. In the mid-1930s Menghin also served as the rector of the University in Vienna. From at least the beginning of the 1930s and continuing into 1938, Menghin advocated for the inclusion of Austria into the German Reich (Haag 1980; Lichetnberger-Fentz 1988; cf. Kriechbaumer 2001; Rosenkrantz 1990; Simon 1984). Regarding the ‘annexation’ of Austria to Germany in 1938, Menghin was Minister of Education in the short-lived but important government of Seyss-Inquart, which signed the acceptance of the annexation. As a minister, Menghin signed laws prohibiting certain ‘groups,’ e.g., Jews to be teachers. Menghin also was a member of the NSDAP from 1938. In the preface to the archaeological journal he edited, he wrote about the enormous potential of the annexation of Austria to Germany, an event, according to Menghin (1938), made possible by Adolf Hitler. After the war, Menghin was judged in Nuremburg for crimes of war, category A, for having been a member of the Austrian government that signed the annexation to the German Reich. However, he succeeded in escaping to Argentina (Arenas 1990; Fontán 2005; Kolb and Perez Gollan 2002; Obermair 2023) where he started a second career.

Archaeological Methodology: Shared Traits

A key point here is the idea of the geographical distribution of traits. In the Humboldt tradition, which had a gigantic impact on German science, a geographical approach was paramount. The distribution of birds, for example, would be mapped in terms of geography, and their distribution became one of the key elements in the discussion on the life of animals. The geographical distribution had not played the same key role in early attempts at evolutionary studies. Kossinna and others started to apply a similar geographical approach in archaeology and ethnology. In archaeology, the scale used did not allow for detailed studies but instead quite general distributions over vast areas. Kossinna himself largely discussed artifacts made of stone or clay. The distribution of such traits was then taken as an indicator for the distribution of given ‘peoples,’ and in the German tradition, this could be linked to the notions of Herder, Fichte, and other philosophers. The way particular sets of artifacts were linked to given types is often extremely hard to follow, and there was a certain conflict between different schools as to which ‘people’ or ‘culture’ corresponded to which set of artifacts. We can here see the rise of an archaeological culture-history approach, which came to influence archaeology far beyond Germany. Gary Feinman and Jill Neitzel (2020) have recently in general terms criticized the continued use of this approach, and we tend to agree with them.

However, this idea that ceramic sherds, lithic material, and other archaeological artifacts could be taken as ‘proof’ of different peoples created a whole field of German archaeology from the end of the 19th century onward. A key concept in the methodology is that of Siedlungsarchäologie. Siedlung denotes a geographical area, specifically the region inhabited by a particular ‘tribe’ within a people, or a particular culture in more general terms. Siedlung should be interpreted similarly to Heimat (homeland) in this context, given that it alludes to the location where a people resided. The notion of Siedlungsarchäologie was intricately linked to material remains, frequently involving, as we have mentioned, a not-very-well-argued link between a set of archaeological artifacts and prehistoric groups, assigning ethnicity (Sklenár̆ 1983, p. 148). Numerous authors of Kossinna’s time associated the notion of Heimat with the concepts of Blut und Boden, which literally translate to ‘blood’ and ‘soil.’ The German Völkish movement, a particular type of populist cultural movement, was pivotal in promoting and sustaining this peculiar amalgamation of ideas (Cornell 2017, p. 185).

A particularity of the archaeology of the period was that the majority of the evidence came from burials. Much less work was done on other kinds of archaeological sites, for example, settlements, at least as to the prehistoric periods. It is certainly a fact that burials on many occasions are relatively easy to explore and often contain interesting, comparatively well-preserved artifacts. But there also was a tradition among certain philosophers in Germany to consider the burial as a key element of a living culture, which gave rise to the view that burials were the exemplary source for information on the life and history of a people. We briefly return to this below.

The Nordic Dream: Nordicism, Archaeology, and Nazi Ideology

Nordicism has had a substantial impact on nationalism and archaeology, in general, and also on Nazi ideology. Nordicism was a movement of thought that took root in the northern parts of Europe in Scandinavia, Germany, and Britain, influencing ideologies, narratives, and the general view on people. Yet, there are variations of Nordicism depending on the nation and depending on the school of thought to which the scholar adhered. Nordicism was never a unified concept, and not everyone accepted the same view of what Nordicism entailed. However, what unified all the strands was the idea of uniqueness of Nordic identity and a kind of Nordic dream. This idea became very important in German Völkish movements, a kind of populist cultural movement. Both Wijworra (2002, p. 28) and Arnold (2006, p. 15) quote Khull Kholwald, who in a contribution to a Völkish journal in 1912 argued that the light always come out of the north (and not the Orient, which had been another widely spread notion).

Even if there existed differences within the field of Nordicism, at its core lies the idea of blending mythology, folklore, and archaeological findings with nationalist movements (Arvidsson 2000, pp. 124–126; Forssling 2020, pp. 15–17, Gasche 2023). It may thus seem to be something palpable and immediate, something of daily experience. However, we stress that Nordicism is abstract, that it can mean a great many things, all depending on who is advocating it. Because of its abstract nature, it can be used by various groups for different purposes, and it can be used for a myriad of different causes. The Nordicism approach appeared in many different contexts, also in literary works, like novels. To pick one example, the legal scholar, historian, and author, Felix Dahn (1834–1912), produced several books on history, but also historical novels, and played a significant role in inspiring the Völkish movement. His most famous novel is probably The Battle for Rome (Dahn 1876, our translation). In this novel, the Goths in Italy are keys to the narrative. The book ends when the Goth hero Totila dies. It is the symbolic death of the power of the Goths in Italy and the beginning of a period with (supposed) ‘Oriental’ dominance. At the very end, Totila’s corpse is carried back home from Italy to ‘Thuleland’ in the far north (more or less the North Pole). The historian Housden (1997, p. 3, cf. Janson 2022) goes so far as to state that Dahn played a bigger role in the popularity of the Völkish movement than Fichte and Hegel. The Nazi adoption of Nordicism, or at least parts of it, can be viewed as the apex culmination of the late 19th and early 20th centuries’ ethno-nationalism and Völkish movements in northern Europe.

An important individual in preparing ground for Nazi ideology was the ‘thinker,’ Houston Stewart Chamberlain (1855–1927), in whose mindset the Völkish, pro-Aryan racism, and anti-Jewish thinking were joined together (Chamberlain 1899). Among those who helped make the Völkish and racism popular in Germany, and who was perhaps slightly more coherent, was the German Hans F. K. Günther (1891–1968). Günther was an outspoken proponent of the version of Nordicism that heavily correlated with the idea of a superior and unique Nordic race. Among his most noteworthy scripts on the subject was the text, Racial Knowledge and the German People (Günther1922, our translation). This text contributed to the justification for a worldwide racial hierarchy in which the German and Nordic races was the most superior. The text became a best seller in Germany at the time. Günther’s notions of race and his contributions to the field of eugenics connected him with Nazi ideology in Germany, and he became a supporter of their policies. He joined the party in 1932 and came to be a mentor for Himmler during this period (Morris-Reich 2006, pp. 314–315, 317). The idea of Nordicism and Nazi ideology blended with ease since they aligned effectively. Both were appealing to a large number of people because they were meant to be inclusive of as large a group as possible. Günther’s version of Nordicism helped inspire Nazi ideology. An interesting point is that there are several shared themes between Hitler’s Mein Kampf and Günthers’s work. Fundamental to both was the idea of race and the notion that the Nordic/Aryan races were racially and culturally superior. This idea of superiority is a common theme in the work of both Hitler and Günther.

The main idea behind Nordicism was that northern Europeans and northern European culture were superior to the rest of Europe and the world. According to those who adhered to this concept, there existed a hierarchy and the natural order of things was for them to be the leading force. These ideas were in part working together with the theories of Gobineau and his view of various races. This belief is, in part, understood when observing the success of the British empire and the industrial might of the German empire. There is no denying that the world during the 19th and early 20th centuries was dominated to a large extent by people of northern European and British descent, and this served as a justification for this state of affairs. Germany had just defeated its neighbors and unified, while Britain ruled over an empire where the sun never set. Since this was an integral part of the idea behind Nordicism, it is not surprising that the concept would have a natural place within the ‘smorgasbord’ that was Nazi ideology (see Holborn 1964). Thus, one of the main components of Nordicism was the conviction that the Nordic race would only become weaker through the intermingling and the mixing of Nordic blood with lesser races. This went well in hand with the later Nazi ideology where the mixing of Aryan blood was to be prohibited by law and minimized.

The Scandinavian countries, including Iceland and Finland, developed their special type of Nordicism, notably in the first half of the 20th century. This Nordicism, in particular, stressed the relation and collaboration between these countries and the unifying elements from the past. Actually, there is a Swedish expression related to this idea, Nordisk Tanke, which would in a formal way translate to Nordische Gedanke, but these two movements were in fact fairly different. One exponent of the Swedish variant of Nordicism was the historian Curt Weibull (1941), who stressed Nordic unity against enemies in the east and the south.

The link between Nordicism and archaeology is indeed complex, and it found different outlets. In Scandinavia during the 19th and early 20th centuries, Nordic philosophy came to be closely connected with growing nationalist feelings. Archaeological findings, such as Viking Age relics, runic inscriptions, and ancient burial sites, were frequently seen from a nationalist perspective, depicting the predecessors of contemporary Scandinavians as individuals worthy of reverence and strengthening a collective feeling of heritage and identity. This romanticized view of the past became heavily entwined with notions of blood purity and a strong Germanic and Nordic race. This view of the past was heavily influenced by ideas like that of Nordicism. Among Swedish archaeologists during the early 20th century, such as Oscar Montelius, Nils Åberg, and Sune Lindquist (see Andersson 2025; Cornell et al. 2007–2008), there existed an inherent desire to justify a Nordic superiority and to find a linear connection between the ancient populations of Scandinavia and those who currently lived there (see Montelius 1921). These three Swedish archaeologists eventually embraced major parts of Kossinna’s version of Nordic philosophy, but to varied extents and in varied ways. It would simplify matters to state that this was the spirit of the time, but there were other scholars who opposed this view of the past.

In Germany, the view of Nordicism developed differently than in Scandinavia, and it also varied across regions of Germany. But as previously mentioned, Nordic philosophy had a notable impact on nationalist beliefs, especially in the 19th century. The idea of a common Germanic ancestry, originating from ancient Germanic tribes and their cultural accomplishments, was a fundamental aspect of German nationalism and German unification. Archaeological findings, including relics from the Germanic Iron Age and the symbolism of the old runic alphabet, were used by nationalist groups to create a legendary history highlighting the excellence and dominance of the Germanic population. The direct usage of old texts such as Tacitus contributed to define Germany’s ancient past, although this was, of course, not the sole usage of the past in Germany, but merely one of several avenues. Another way of using the past to create a unified German identity was the construction of major monuments in the late 19th century, such as the Hermannsdenkmal. The monument is located close to the site of the AD 9 battle of the Teutoburger Forest where the Germanic tribes fought back against the Roman advance into Germania. It is meant to give tribute to Arminius, or as he was later called, Hermann. The monument is significant since it can serve as an indicator to understand the historical narrative that was woven during the 19th century in Germany and the role ancient populations had in the first steps to creation of the modern German state (Hitler 1925). The monument would likewise play a role during the Nazi era when Hitler himself visited in 1926. The reason why this is worth mentioning is the particular choice of a heroic figure. Arminius was viewed as the defender of greater Germania and by extension all Germans. It is a powerful sentiment that resonated well with both Nordicism and Nazi ideology (see Musolff 2017). From both perspectives it solidified the idea that the ancestors of contemporary Germans were a superior people strong enough to combat one of the most powerful empires in history.

As previously noted, both Kossinna and Menghin were adherents to Nordicism, but as can be observed by studying the two men, they held different views of what this framework entailed. Kossinna was an outspoken advocate for the idea that the ancestral homeland of the Indo-Germanic people could be found somewhere within northern Europe. Similarly, he was of the mind that a direct link existed between contemporary Germans and those who had inhabited the same soil several millennia previously. What mainly interests us here is thus the German version of Nordicism, called Nordische Gedanke. At times this is translated as Nordic thought, but this is not altogether satisfactory, since ‘Gedanke’ in German and ‘thought’ in English are fairly different concepts. Particularly in German-speaking countries, the idea of a pure original Nordic race and culture, which had been created without external elements and which subsisted in its own capacity, was paramount. That is, the elements existing in northern Europe after the last Ice Age were sufficient for the making of the Germans. Everything developed independently in this macroregion, the invention of agriculture, metallurgy, etc. (Kossinna 1928). Of major importance was the idea that the Nordic people were chosen, that they had to fulfill their historical destiny; similar ideas of the chosen people or group were and are still popular in different corners of the world. Any major external influence was thus considered negative and as a threat to the authentic Nordic spirit, and indeed at times even envisioned as a physical threat to the Nordic race. In the field of Nordische Gedanke, the German Nordicism, it became important to discuss racial hygiene and ways of avoiding foreign cultural influence.

Within German Nordicism, there were two major schools of thoughts. One of these focused primarily on the idea of geography, of landscape, of soil. This is the school that had strong support in Germany at least from the 19th century (see Fahlbusch and Haar 2020; Lutzhöft 1971) and the school that Kossinna embraced. This is likewise the school the Nazi leadership chose to adopt formally. This formal adherence is reflected in a set of books edited by Reinerth, published by the NSDAP publishing house. This choice of the ‘geographical’ version of Nordicism became important for Nazi ideology because it heavily elevated the idea that the northern regions of Europe were the purest in terms of blood and population, and particular importance was attached to ‘earth’ and ‘soil.’ The second school of thought, in terms of Nordicism, spoke vaguely of a ‘north of the Alps,’ and it became a more existential and ‘spiritual; one, where the essence of the people and the individual was at the forefront. These ideas were more popular in Austria, and perhaps Bavaria, and found a proponent in Menghin and the art historian Josef Strzygowski. The latter was a specialist on Byzans, which he considered a largely Oriental construction that had polluted the true European essence. To Strzygowski 1901, 1940, 1941), purity had to be restored to recover the true soul of the north. In 1940, Strzygowski, at an age of 78, sitting in his chair at home in Vienna, stated that he had reached the goal of his life and said that “I am at the North Pole” (“Ich befinde mich am Nordpol,” in conversation with Elias Cornell, according to a written document in the possession of the senior author). As a similar but slightly contrasting perspective within the Nazi camp, using an even wider geographical perspective, we can mention Walter Wüst, one of the leaders of the Ahnenerbe, specialized on Indo-Aryan civilization and his ‘Indogerman Confession’ from 1942, which is a defense for Nazi ideology and a suggestion for a new funerary pattern. To illustrate these different views within archaeology in Nazi Germany, we provide more details on relevant scholars.

Blood and Soil—Kossinna

We first examine the concepts of Erde and Boden (earth and soil) and Blut (blood). The first observation in relation to Kossinna is that the geographical space, and especially the north of Europe, has a particular value in itself. The ties to the land are paramount. Second, the people living in this given geographical have special biological qualities; they are of special race(s). With his belief in the relationship between culture, ‘ethnicity,’ and archaeological objects, Kossinna left an indelible imprint on not only Nordicism but also the entire archaeological discipline. His theory on earth and blood proposes that there is a profound link between individuals and the biological ties that bind them, and last but not least the land of their ancestors.

Kossinna’s argument suggested, as mentioned above, that it was possible to identify different prehistoric ‘ethnic’ groups based on their material culture, specifically the archaeological artifacts that were discovered within a certain geographical location. He believed these cultural marks were evidence of a common lineage and history, which connected people to the area where they lived. This idea that there is a strong connection between ethnicity, region, and material culture served as the foundation for his views about the development of civilized societies. Kossinna believed that the migrations and movements of ancient peoples could be tracked via the dissemination of their artifacts, and this was at the core of his line of thinking. His model of cultural diffusion suggested that the growth of ethnic groups (not his term) was driven by the dispersion of people from their original homeland, bringing with them the visible symbols of their identity. One people’s disappearance would often be considered the direct effect of another people’s invasion. Kossinna established this model to discuss the phenomenon of cultural diffusion, without selling out the idea of cultural essence (e.g., Kossinna 1909–1910, 1911, 1912). Kossinna wished to map out these migration patterns and recreate the historical paths of diverse ethnic groups throughout Europe. An essential notion was that, in the creation of German identity, everything took place in the north, and among peoples living in the north. In a text from 1911, Kossinna goes as far as claiming that (above all northern) Europe has always been more advanced than any other part of the globe.

To illustrate Kossinna’s style of argumentation, we briefly relate his view on the origin of the Germans in an important book that summarizes his ideas. The book in question is Origin and Distribution of the Germans in Prehistoric and Early Historic Age, from 1928 (our translation), drawn from several previous studies by Kossinna (1909–1910, 1912, among others). Kossinna devoted a large part of this book to arguments on racial characteristics, comparing the contemporary population with Stone Age skulls and identifying, as he believed, various groups in Germany, Friesland, and the Nordic countries. He then continued with a discussion of archaeological material from the Later Stone Age, in which he dedicated his main efforts to ceramics and stone axes and, to some extent, various types of burials. His point of departure is the various ‘cultures’ he believes he had identified in this archaeological material and arguments concerning their chronological position. It is often hard to see how he connected empirical data to his prehistoric reconstructions.

His scenario, here a bit simplified, is that first there is a primitive hunter-gatherer population in the north, and another Indogermanic population with a center in Jutland (present-day Denmark) and Schleswig-Holstein that eventually expands into parts of southern and western Sweden and into Germany. This Indogerman population appears at the end of what we today call the Mesolithic period (the so-called Ertebölle phase in Scandinavian terminology), and they eventually start building megalithic monuments. Migrations are a main element in Kossinna’s archaeology, and according to him the Indogermans make several waves of migratory movements, including far south into present-day Germany. Then, from the far north the primitive hunter-gatherers arrive, an ‘Arctic Dobbertinner pre-Finn’ culture, the survivors of the old hunting-gathering population. This arctic population is particularly well adapted to cold climates, and they are very tough and good warriors. This population settles in Jutland and southern Scandinavia and eventually mingles with the Indogermans of these areas. From this mix, the Finno-Indogermans emerge (Kossinna 1928, p. 216) and come to dominate southern Scandinavia and Denmark, while ‘pure’ (previously migrated) Indogermans survive in Germany, for example, in the region of Halle. The Finno-Indogermans use boat axes and corded ware ceramics and bury their dead in individual burials of relatively simple construction (as compared to the megaliths). These Finno-Indogermans eventually migrate to Germany where there is a second mixing in Germany between Finno-Indogermans and pure Indogermans. This mix takes place in the area around the town of Halle in today’s Germany. From this mix the Germans emerge, a culturally unified people, in 2000 BC, shortly before the beginning of the Bronze Age (Kossinna 1928, p. 297). In Kossinna’s way of thinking, the Germans were 75% Indo-German and 25% Arctic pre-Finn. The Arctic pre-Finns contributed, as Kossinna saw it, with their tough and resilient attitude, and above all with their capacity for warfare.

The Germans, thus, were a mix created out of two distinct Nordic populations. Two observations should be made. One is that Kossinna believed certain particular cultural and racial mixes were positive, in this case because they were both related to a particular geographic ‘north.’ However, in the case of the Germans, there is a higher percentage of Indogermans and a smaller element of the ‘pre-Finns.’ The other observation—and this is a key point—is that, as it has been understood, Kossinna had many hyperborean beliefs. He really did believe in Nordicism. In sum, his take on Nordicism was simply a statement of “what is good comes from the north.” According to Kossinna’s maps, the “pre-Finns” lived in what are today areas of Norway, Sweden, Finland, and the Baltic countries. It is interesting that he uses the term ‘Finns.’ It is a complex term. Kossinna, of course, knew about the existence of Finland, as well as the region of Finnmark in Norway. Kossinna makes a point of separating pre-Finns from the Finno-Ugrians, which appeared later—another mix (more ‘negative’ in Kossinna’s opinion). However, his use of the term ‘Finns’ was certainly intentional. The concept of the pre-Finn allowed incorporation of several different ethnic groups indirectly to the creation of the Germans, including not only Danes, Norwegians, and Swedes but also the Sami (‘Lapps’), the Finns, and the Baltics. The ‘traditional’ Swedish archaeologists of the period, for example, Gunnar Ekholm, became furious about this idea of ethnic mixture. To Ekholm, Swedish Neolithic groups had brought civilization to Finland, and the Finns received some degree of civilization through influence from the Swedes (Ekholm 1920, 1921). Thus, curiously, Kossinna, an arch-racist, favoring only the peoples of northern Europe at the expense of anything else in the whole world, was less racist to Finns than several Swedish archaeologists of the period (Cornell et al. 2007–2008).

Another interesting dimension of this complex ‘origin of the Germans’ narration of Kossinna has been hinted at above, discussing Herder and the French raciologist Quatrefages. Through integrating the Indogermans and the Arctic pre-Finns, the Germans, in Kossinna’s mind, had both innovative technical competence and an expansionistic and warlike attitude. But there also is another rationale for the importance of this mix. The particular racial traits ‘identified’ among Prussians (e.g., a high frequency in epicanthic folds in the eyes, according to 19th century scientists) have, through this mix, a ‘rational explanation’ and are part of the origin story itself, not the proof of the existence of another Oriental race in Kossinna’s thinking.

The concepts of Erde and Boden and Blut together also were important to Kossinna, as we have already seen. Though he was actually quite abstract, he insisted that it was about a physical world. The ties to the land itself are very important. His theory on blood and soil proposed that there is a profound link between individuals and the biological ties that bind them with the land of their ancestors.

Thus, Kossinna’s theory on blood and soil is a special take on Nordicism, being a cultural–historical theory focusing on the ties between certain groups and the land on which they live. The importance of blood and soil similarly gives historical weight to the land itself. This argument was later used by the Nazis to justify certain conquests in Eastern Europe (see Trigger 1989, p. 163). The argument was that if a people at some point of their existence as an essential category had played a civilizational role in a specific region, this gave them a casus bello on all these regions. And, again, we stress that the time spans are remarkable. A ‘German’ in the area of today’s Halle in 2000 BC is the same as that of a ‘German’ citizen of Halle in 1930. In terms of essential qualities, they are the same in Kossinna’s world.

Blood and Spirit—Menghin

At its core, Nordicism is an intellectual framework that glorified the imagined superiority of Nordic peoples. It supports its claims by emphasizing the symbolic significance to the north. In the version used by Kossinna, this means a geographic north and a special earth and soil. Menghin’s views were slightly different. To him Geist (spirit) and Blut are the main categories. The geographical north is only a vague ‘north of the Alps. Menghin, together with those who adhered to his version of Nordicism, emphasized the spiritual aspect of Nordicism. Interestingly, even some Swedish archaeologists supported Menghin (e.g., Bagge 1946).  An example is the belief that a given people could become Nordic under the right circumstances, even though it was difficult if not near impossible for a lone individual to simply become part of a new race. To Menghin the spiritual aspect made a race into what it is, and since a race eventually had to start somewhere, it was the spirit that decided when a race became, when it emerged (Menghin 1934). Thus, it could be stated that the spirit encompasses the immaterial nature of a society, including its cultural character, collective recollections, and common ambitions. It was something intangible, something that could not be attributed to a mere geographical location, but rather was something deeper, the very essence of a people, in the sense of their spirit. In the context of Nordicism, the concept of spirit is frequently used to exalt the cultural accomplishments and ethical qualities associated with it. It serves as a beacon of identity, shaping narratives of historical continuity and legitimizing claims of cultural superiority. To illustrate Menghin’s position, we draw from his extensive study, A World History of the Stone Age (Menghin 1931, our translation). According to Menghin, a particular type of ceramics found in Central Europe corresponds to proto-Germans. This he understands as a phenomenon that emerged in Central Europe. Through time this ‘people,’ the Indogermans, even reached Scandinavia. Through this expansion Menghin (1931, p. 475) affirms, they “made even Scandinavia Nordic.” This assertion may seem a bit odd. It reaffirms the notion of ‘Nordic’ as an idea, as a spirit. If there is some geographical notion at all, it would be ‘north of the Alps.’ But significantly, Scandinavia has no role in the original making of Nordic essence, in sharp contrast to the position held by Kossinna (see above). Another, completely different scenario presented by Menghin is that which is related to the so-called Bell Beaker, a late Neolithic ceramic type in Europe. In the 1931 book, Menghin, based on his studies in northern Africa, asserts that this was an African/Nilotic culture that spread northward to Europe through the Iberic Peninsula. This type of ceramics had already been found, though sparsely in the southern parts of Scandinavia. Menghin notes this and calls this wide distribution ‘enigmatic,’ but also adds, “It did not create lasting effects” (Menghin 1931, p. 474). Menghin was not alone to sustain such a position at this time, but it is largely forgotten today, at least among northern European archaeologists. In Spirit and Blood: Basics on Race, Language, Culture and Folklore (Menghin 1934, our translation), Menghin’s general theoretical and methodological study and one of his most famous works, he discusses the concept of spirit in great detail and grants historical legitimacy to the question.

Yet, even if there was an emphasis on the spirit, the term ‘Blut’ is used to refer to biological ancestry and the concept of racial purity. It is defined as an inherited symbol that represents the genetic passing down of characteristics linked to a race’s heritage. These could either be favorable traits, such as those that according to Menghin were associated with Germans, or not favorable characteristics such as those associated with Jews. Therefore, the concept of blood functions as a concrete representation of racial identity, establishing divisions between supposedly superior and inferior populations not only within Nordicism but also within the greater Nazi ideology. The focus on blood highlights the presumed biological foundation of racial identity, strengthening ideas of exclusivity and hierarchy within Nordicism. However, the Nazis would take this a step further through their ideology, and the concept of Geist und Blut comes to border on being a religious question. Certain strands in the Nazi camp would seek to replace old institutions, e.g., religion, and to introduce a new kind of religion that was built on ideals of race, spirit, and blood, and also fire (see Varshizky 2019, pp. 263–265; Wüst 1942). Nazi ideology endeavored to reinvent the essence of that which makes us humans, the notion of spirit, and they sought to link it with their view on racism. Menghin’s work from 1934 remains an excellent example of how historical weight was added to this discussion. His exploration of the historical principal attributes that made the German people, and finding blood to some extent a relevant variable, can be viewed as a legitimization of ‘full’ Nordicism and, by extension, Nazi ideology.

Themes in the Ideological Framework: General Reflections

Even if we limit ourselves to the small number of examples mentioned above, it is evident that archaeology was significant in Nazi ideology and that many archaeological studies, including fieldwork, were carried out with the purpose to fit into certain themes in German military expansionism, in general, and in Nazi ideology, in particular. The systematic study of Nazi ideology is still not sufficiently elaborated for a more detailed discussion on the role of archaeology, and this must wait for future studies. Nevertheless, it is clear that archaeology was considered important. Apart from the fact that large investments were undertaken in archaeology, also during the war, and that important publications and exhibitions were produced, the role of archaeology can also be seen, directly and indirectly, in other contexts. Another question is whether or not this direct involvement in ideological production had longstanding effects on archaeology or not. Certain authors, like Kossack (1999) or Steuer (2001), affirmed that it did not, but that question still actually remains open. Here, we briefly present some areas of ideological articulation in the period and, to a limited extent, its wider historical context.

One immediate empirical point of evidence is that the Kossinna/Reinerth approach to German prehistory, including its key concepts, occurred in different kinds of museum exhibits, guided tours (even for soldiers during wartime), and at times also with theatrical elements. But it also was present in more formal teaching during the Nazi period. An interesting example of the latter is that in the curriculum for future Waffen SS soldiers, who were trained in today’s Ljubljana, key concepts on German prehistory are listed as mandatory knowledge. This discovery was made in conversation with Klemen Kosjančič, a Slovenian historian from the University in Ljubljana, at the Ideology in National Socialism conference at the Federal Archive in Berlin in May 2023. This scholar has studied interesting archival material concerning the SS and Waffen SS training unit at Laibach (Ljubljana), in which terminology from the archaeology of the period appeared as a mandatory theme in the formation of Waffen SS noncommissioned officers. It attests to the direct importance attached to archaeology as a key element in the ideology of war.

A different kind of example, demonstrating the similarity between German archaeology and German state activities, is German colonial politics. In German southwestern Africa during the late 19th century, for example, colonial politics were fiercely opposed to the remains of any prior occupation of the area. New cemeteries had to be constructed, with German populations, replacing older cemeteries, which were destroyed (Noyes 1992). This was understood as a major strategy for taking over, for dominating the land. Curiously, this fits well with Kossinna’s archaeology, which almost exclusively used evidence from burials, as these were considered to correspond to the general settlement pattern of the population. It has been argued that Kossinna used burials because that was what was known and relatively well preserved, but that is only part of the issue. Following a strong tradition (visible also in Hegel, e.g., Hegel 1807; cf. Derrida 1974, pp. 162–164), Kossinna regarded the burials as one of the strongest and most crucial cultural elements.

One theme in the ‘official’ version of German prehistory, which has its own complexity, is that of the spatial origin of the Germans. In 1940, a large publication on German prehistory published at the NSDAP’s own publishing house, presents the town of Halle and its vicinity as the spatial origin of the Germans, favoring Kossinna’s arguments and the northern part of Germany. The attentive reader remembers that one of the first rectors of German universities, being member of the Nazi Party, was the archaeologist Hans Hahne at the University of Halle. Hahne was, for a long period, the head of the relatively important Prehistorical Museum of the town, which had been a large investment. The election of Hahne was not a pure coincidence. The fact that Hahne was a loyal NSDAP member was of major importance. But the importance of Halle and of the archaeology of the region, and this particular museum, must have strengthened the desire of the Nazi government to make Hahne the rector of the University of Halle. Menghin, on the other hand, as mentioned above, favored a Central European origin. Bavaria, in the south, was in fact one of the strongholds of the Nazi Party prior to 1933. It could thus be seen as a rational choice as an area of origin, also corresponding to Hitler’s Austrian connection. The fact that this was not the official line is interesting. We can, at present, only speculate on the reasons. Perhaps making the areas farther north keys to the origin of the Germans was thought to help the Nazi movement to rally support in these parts of Germany.

As we have seen, a highly interesting point is that there are several different ‘extra-archaeological’ reasons for Kossinna’s narration on the origin of the Germans. On the one hand, he wished to stress the expansionistic and military inclination of the Germans to support a political movement in Germany, which favored such a perspective. But there seems also to be another logic. Already in the 18th century Herder made a separation between Germans and Prussians, and this idea reemerged among French raciologists in the 19th century. The particularities, also in terms of physical form (race), were stressed. By making German identity a mix between the Indogermans and the Arctic pre-Finns (the latter included considerable variation, indirectly, for example Finns and Samis), such a variability became inherent to all Germans from the moment of its creation. Thus, Kossinna’s highly complex and convoluted narration has a logic, and this logic was certainly observed by Himmler or Goebbels and was considered of great value in terms of ideology.

More complex contexts also are relevant. Nazi ideology was clearly visible in many movies produced during the Nazi era. To name some of the more extreme, we mention the movies JudSyss (1940, directed by Veit Harlan, anti-Jewish), Heimkehr (1941, directed by Gustav Ucicky; anti-Polish), and The Golden City (1942, also by Veit Harlan). They all share notions about race, the authentic homeland, and racial pollution with archaeological studies from the period. In particular, The Golden City is relevant in this context. It was set in occupied Czech areas, the Sudet, and filmed during the war. The story is about the significance of the link to the soil, the land, and the importance of not falling for the false attraction of ‘the golden city.’ Two generations of women commit suicide by throwing themselves into the lake. Finally, in the movie, this turns out to have been vital acts of sacrifice. After the second suicide, the population of the area set out to transform the lake to productive arable land, and the last images shows the bountiful harvest. Thus, the movie explicitly adheres to themes frequent in Kossinna’s work (and also to some extent in Menghin’s) about the true and authentic homeland and its paramount importance in life and culture. In the movie, this is seen as having a dignity that merits the sacrifice of generations of women.

Finally, one last but important point. The way to approach the past in Nazi ideology and Nazi-oriented archaeology incorporates a particular case of misuse of archaeological evidence, we would say, and an extreme one. Similar approaches, although somewhat less extreme, abound across the globe. The specific people or model favored may differ, and the relative role ascribed to archaeology may differ, but there are similarities. We mention one example. A former student of Kossinna’s, Konrad Jazdzewski, in 1948 (Jazdzewski 1948) published an Atlas of the Slavs, which was created following Kossinna’s method, but putting the Slavs into the center of attention. Similar cases can be found in the postwar years in several countries, and, sad to say, they are still more frequent than we would like them to be, and occasionally they also relate to war activities (in the most varied type of contexts).

Opposing the Basic Idea of Purity: Edmund Husserl versus Oswald Menghin

To illustrate that there was opposition to the kind of archaeology discussed here, and in general the world outlook represented by Nazi ideology, we briefly refer to an interesting episode from 1935. Oswald Menghin, at time the rector of the university in Vienna, chose to invite the famous philosopher Edmund Husserl, an important name in European philosophy but one who had become a persona non grata in Germany and was no longer allowed to enter the university where he had been teaching. Menghin considered himself inspired by Husserl’s ideas of phenomenology. However, to Husserl, his phenomenology concerned the way an individual acquired knowledge, while Menghin transferred this reasoning from the individual to that of the people (up to a certain point in line with Heidegger’s philosophy). Husserl, who, in the Goebbels’ terminology, was a Jew, decided to accept the invitation despite his knowledge of Menghin’s critical stand in relation to Jews in Austria. It is probable that Husserl saw this trip to Vienna as his last opportunity to give a public speech to a large audience. Husserl’s talk, which was given in a large aula, was heard by people from international news agencies and quickly became known across the world, although it was only published in 1954 (Husserl 1954), many years after the death of Husserl. In this speech, Husserl cited Menghin’s (1931) book on the World History of the Stone Age and, with the evidence from that book, argued that there is only one characteristic trait of Europe, and that is heterogeneity. Of course, that was not what Menghin wished to hear, but that was in a way what he described in his book. Husserl, referring directly to Menghin, criticized the idea of absolute cultural purity.

Summary

In sum, we have discussed the role of archaeology in Nazi ideology and in the Nazi-German war effort during the Second World War. There is no doubt archaeology was significant in this context, although not to a great extent, and that archaeology was favored by the regime, even in difficult circumstances. There were different approaches to archaeology in Nazi Germany, and all the dominant ones had strong connections to Nazi ideology. However, the approach taken by Gustaf Kossinna became the most influential and was explicitly favored in official publications, at the expense of other approaches. Blood, soil, and spirit were important concepts, playing out on spatially distributed peoples and subgroup of peoples. These were identified by the means of certain artifact types that were taken to represent the people. Further, the tradition of ‘Nordische Gedanke,’ which had origins at least back to the 19th century, was of major importance in Nazi archaeology and in Nazi ideology in general. It was a cultural current, which had the idea of giving the north a particular value. This north could simply be ‘north of the Alps,’ or more directly, giving preference for anything as far north as possible. In the first sense, the north was largely a spiritual idea, while in the second case, the (real) physical geography was paramount. Between these two positions there was a certain friction, with varied relative strength, but they co-existed during the entire Nazi era. In Kossinna’s narrative, German was a mixture of two Nordic races, and the extra-archaeological logic to this was to explain certain variations in racial characteristics among the peoples living in Germany at the time. In particular, this was important when it came to the Prussians, who had at times been defined as not being Deutsch in the 18th and 19th century. To Kossinna (and the Nazi regime), Prussia was an important part of Deutschland.

Conclusions

To conclude, it is evident that the Nazi government used archaeology as part of their ideological edifice, also as arguments supporting the war and the administration of occupied territories. The ideology was mainly oriented toward the Germans ‘themselves,’ and secondarily to their supposed allies. In terms of content, questions of the true authentic and chosen people were a major element, which can be seen as an extreme expression of ethnicity. The link to blood, soil, and spirit was paramount, but the relative weight of these three components varied across different archaeologies in the Nazi-German context. In terms of prehistory, particular artifact types were chosen and taken as indicators of proto-German, German, or non-German peoples or ‘circles of culture.’ The link imagined between the given artifact types and given cultures is far from easy to grasp or understand. The spatial distribution of the artifacts at a very large scale were of major importance.

The means of transmitting the ideology were manifold. It occurred through books, through exhibitions, lectures, guided tours at sites, and in several other ways. It also was part of formal teaching, for example, for Waffen-SS personnel. In the curriculum, knowledge of key archaeological concepts related to the origin of pan-Germanism was mandatory.

A special theme, directly or indirectly present in most Nazi-oriented archaeology was the idea of Nordicism, which could have a direct link to the geography of the far north or be more of a general spiritual idea, identified vaguely with areas from the Alpine regions northward. In the specific narration concerning the origin of the Germans by Kossinna, who favored the idea of an origin far to the north in terms of geography, there were several special ‘extra-archaeological’ logics. Its purpose was to demonstrate that the Germans were expansionistic and militaristic in their original essence, a trait that had survived through millennia. Further, since the Prussians had at times been considered to not be Deutsch or German, and since the Prussians in the 20th century had certain (limited) traits that made them differ physically from Germans, according to some studies, Kossinna created an argument on a racial mix that would explain these particularities and make it part of the origin story of the German identity itself.

The notion of the chosen and essential people, which could exist over millennia, was the main argument. The Germans in 2000 before Christ were the same as the Germans in 1930 or 1940. Culture as absolute essence and purity is a principal element in the argument, and several actors in archaeology (and far beyond archaeology) were much absorbed by such ideas.

As to the relative importance of archaeology within a broader Nazi ideology, the actual role of archaeology should not be exaggerated. There were other elements of much greater importance. But there is no doubt that certain types of archaeology were favored by the regime, even during difficult periods, and it must thus have been considered relevant by the Nazi government at a general level.