Interview with Iván Szelényi--January 21, 2017

Interview with Iván Szelényi, William Graham Sumner Emeritus Professor of Sociology at Yale University and Foundation Dean of Social Sciences at NYU Abu Dhabi. He has also taught at UCLA, the CUNY Graduate Center, and the University of Wisconsin, Madison. The interview was conducted in two parts in Budapest, Hungary, on January 21, 2017. To access the audio of the complete interview (in two parts), click here for Part 1 and here for Part 2

Szelényi is the author of many books and the recipient of as many prizes and distinctions. Among his most prominent publications is The Intellectuals on the Road to Class Power, which he co-authored with György Konrád (and which first appeared in 1979); Making Capitalism without Capitalists (With Gil Eyal and Eleanor Townsley), published by Verso in 1998 and translated into several languages; Privatizing the land: Rural Political Economy in Post-Communist Societies, also from 1998; Theories of the New Class – Intellectuals and Power (with Larry King) from 2004, and Poverty and Social Structure in Transitional Societies: The First Decade of Post-Communism (from 2013). 

Special thanks to Máté Rigó (Ph.D. Cornell, 2016) for preparing an inventory of the interview.

Interview Themes

00:00 Family background: bourgeois family from Késmark
02:00 Family politics: Horthy, Trianon as a source of political radicalism, Nyilas party
Szelényi's paternal great-great grandparents Karl József
Kamitska (1804-1864) and Anna Schwarz (1813-1900)
07:00 Political conviction of Szelényi’s father, radicalization
09:00 Trianon, exposure to nationalist discourses
11:00 1948: Six-month trip to the Netherlands as a ten-year old through the Calvinist church
12:00 Dutch trip and stay in a Dutch family’s home; trip formative for the formation of Szelényi’s political views
14:00 Dutch host family; Hungarian fixation on noble background vs. Dutch attitudes
17:00 Identification as a “transnational,” American, and Hungarian
Szelényi’s grandfather, Ödön (Victor) Szelényi (1877-1931),
distinguished scholar of education, philosophy,
literature and theology
19:00 The siege of Budapest, experiences with the Red Army, Rózsadomb, Kapy utca in 1944
23:00 The siege, interaction with soldiers
24:00 Impact of literature teacher in formation of left and liberal, humanitarian ideas
26:00 Influential books, classmates, friends, Ferenc Litván, György Litván, József Litván, Károly Szendi
30:00 Diversity of friends’ backgrounds
31:00 1950s: left-liberal views solidified, non-communist, ”lefty”
34:30 Endorsement of Bernie Sanders
36:00 Humanism as political conviction; Political views did not change
Szelényi's father, Gusztáv
Szelényi (1904-1982)
40:00 Experience of reading many novels during adolescence, Thomas Mann, Dostoevsky, Ibsen, Hungarian poetry
47:00 The artist Lili Országh
50:00 Training as an urban sociologist, András Hegedűs
52:00 Ford fellowship at Columbia University and Berkeley, 1964-1965
54:00 George Konrád
56:00 Empirical research on newly built housing estates with Konrád
58:00 Overrepresentation of cadres in new socialist block apartments

00:00 Sociology
02:00 Choice of sociology as a career, University of Economics, János Avar, studies as an undergraduate
03:00 Refused to join Communist Youth League initially
04:00 Central Statistical Office
06:00 Choice of sociology as a profession
08:00 Research on leisure time
11:00 Ford Foundation interview
13:00 Research on housing with Konrád
14:00 1956 revolution, followed events without engagement
16:00 Politics without passions
19:00 2016 US elections
21:00 1956, Went on a date instead of participating in revolutionary march
24:00 Fear of the rise of anti-Semitism and the return of the Horthy regime
28:00 1956 revolution a mixed bag ideologically, thinks of emigrating to Vienna
31:00 Russian invasion of Hungary in 1956
34:00 The terrorist mindset, Islamist terrorists, suicide bombers
35:00 Emigration to Vienna
36:00 Intellectuals on the Road to Class Power, István Bibó as a colleague at Statistical Office
37:00 Foreign journals department at the Statistical Office
38:00 Idea for Intellectuals on the Road to Class Power comes from István Bibó
40:00 György Konrad, The City Builder; the privileges of intellectuals in the socialist regime
43:00 The transformation of villages under socialism; “under-urbanization,” one million commuters in 1970s Hungary
46:00 The transformation of gender relations in rural Hungary
48:00 Urban planners and under-investment in villages; Szelényi and Kondrád’s article “dictatorship of the club of planners,” Pál Granasztói
53:00 Evaluations of socialism by intellectuals in Hungary in 1960s, 1970s
54:00 István Bibó, dictatorship of the intellectuals,” Milovan Djilas, changes after Stalin’s death; science as tool to give legitimacy to state bureaucrats
58:00 Ideology and intellectuals
1:01:00 Intellectuals vs. technicians, technocrats
1:05:00 US academia and technocracy
1:08:00 Thorstein Veblen, US, “dictatorship of engineers,” New York intellectuals, managers
From the left: Sociologists Teréz Kovács and Iván Szelényi,
political scientist Bálint Magyar, and agrarian social
scientist Pál Juhász (photo Fortepan).
1:13:00 Criticism of intellectuals in the US; capitalist economy bribes intellectuals to prevent subversion
1:15:00 Moralism and the humanities
1:18:00 Katherine Verdery
1:21:00 The reception of Intellectuals on the Road to Class Power in the US; the writing of the book
1:23:00 Withdrawal of research funds from Konrád and Szelényi
1:28:00 Punishment after Intellectuals on the Road to Class Power appeared

Interview with Adrian Grama--December 28, 2016

Interview with Adrian Grama, advanced Ph.D. student in History at the Central European University in Budapest. Interview conducted in Vienna, Austria on December 28, 2016. To listen to an audio stream of the interview, click here

Grama has recently completed his dissertation titled  “Labouring Along: Industrial Workers and the Making of Postwar Romania, 1944-1958.” He is also associate editor for the European Review of History.

Interview Themes

00:00 Introduction
00:47 How Grama defines his field: the social history of the Romanian economy
02:41 Evolution of Grama’s dissertation topic
05:07 On making the switch from Political Science to History
08:53 On cutting the “labor question” out of the title
11:01 Most revelatory moments during the writing of the dissertation (on the importance of the Second World War and the postwar economic transition, austerity as an experience Romania shared with many other countries)
16:08 On how a history cannot be limited to one country
17:00 Implications of comparing Romania to France and/or Germany
18:58 Why the idea of a “post-war” as a clear historical conjuncture is absent from the historiography East-Central Europe (importance of engaging in periodization)
21:31 What happens to ideology when one compares East and West?
23:56 To what extent did the conditions of the global market allow for genuinely different policy options after the Second World War?
27:10 Ethnographic/social anthropological approach versus classical social history
32:03 On the applications of the word “populism”
35:15 Grama’s working-class family history and how it influenced his perspective
38:35 Family interpretations of the socialist experience that Grama grew up with
45:04 Grama on the efforts of young Romanian intellectuals to write a history relevant for the present
47:45 On the aspects of the past that seem most relevant for understanding the present (“history is not a morality tale”)
53:37 On the intellectual environment at CEU
55:44 Romanian politics and how it is different from that of Hungary and Poland (explaining the absence of a far right in Romania)
1:04:05 On Romanian intellectuals’ disdain for the common people
1:05:49 Is there a political valence to nationalism studies?
1:09:18 On whether we can move on from the study of nationalism or not
1:11:00 Memorable political moments/events in Grama’s own life
1:15:05 Manifestations of hope and disappointment Grama has witnessed
1:18:03 Books and scholars that have had a strong influence on Grama (Stephen Kotkin’s Magnetic Mountain)
1:23:20 On training people to write history
1:26:50 What Grama is reading now and his next project


In Memoriam--Andrew Romay (1922-2017)

A tribute to Andrew Romay (1922-2017)

On Friday, February 10, 2017, Mr. Andrew Romay, who was my dear friend, died in New York. His colorful and valuable life deserves, in my opinion, a special obituary. Few people in the world knew both Nazi concentration camps and Communist prisons, and few are those who, once they arrived in the United States, became both close friends and colleagues of the world famous brothers, Paul and George Soros. A highly successful financier, Andrew Romay was also an important philanthropist who, among other things, helped many immigrants to adjust to life in the United States.

Andrew Romay was born in Miskolc, Hungary, on September 24, 1922, to a Jewish family.  He never renounced his faith despite pressure in Hungary on assimilated Jews to convert to Christianity.  Characteristically for the inconsistencies of Hungarian and, in general, East European life in the interwar period, Andrew attended and graduated in a Catholic high School and, despite growing public antisemitism and anti-Jewish laws, he was allowed to study economics at Budapest University. Yet, before completing his doctoral work, he was drafted into labor service which, under the fascist Arrow Cross regime, late in 1944, found him digging anti-tank trenches on the Austro-Hungarian border. Barely alive, he was liberated, in the Mauthausen concentration camp, Austria, in May 1945, by US Army troops. 

Following the revolution of 1956, he and his fiancée Marietta Puder fled to Austria where the two were married and soon after emigrated to the United States. Although penniless, the couple immediately found work; he as an economist, and she as a fashion designer. Andrew soon met the engineer Paul Soros, George Soros’s elder brother, with whom he formed a Coal Transportation business in the South. This and later business ventures enabled Paul Soros and Andrew to make their fortunes.

In the last decade or two of his life, Andrew, who had lost his wife, devoted himself more and more to charity work. He did this in part by financing the creation of memorials for the thousands of Jews and Roma forced laborers who were killed or died of typhus and starvation at the Austro-Hungarian border in 1944-1945. He also helped to finance Holocaust studies in Hungary. His latest and greatest philanthropic achievement was the creation of a center for recent refugees, immigrants, and asylum-seekers at the English-Speaking Union in New York City. This so far has helped some 750 newcomers to the US with year-long scholarships, English classes, workshops, civic programs, and cultural events. 

Returning to Hungary, he completed his doctoral studies and subsequently worked at a state-owned import-export company where he met his future wife. Unable to stomach the abuses and gross inadequacies of Hungary’s Stalinist system, he tried to illegally cross the infamous Iron Curtain but was caught and imprisoned in a concentration camp at Kistarcsa. Freed six months later, he was hired by the Ministry of Foreign Trade which, even though he was one of the handful who spoke English as well as other languages and had a doctoral degree, gave him only entry level work.

Andrew Romay was one of thousands of highly talented Hungarians who were driven from their own state and society and yet, who nevertheless never abandoned their home country.

Wide Awake with Isabel Hull

German soldiers invading Belgium, August 1914
This piece was published on August 29, 2016, at 3 Quarks Daily

It was from Isabel Hull that I learned what tu quoque means, and how important it is to know. Hull is a professor of German history at Cornell, where I have also taught. Once I invited her to a class to talk about the British blockade of Germany during the First World War. She explained how the Germans had made war by invading neutral Belgium in 1914, knowing full well they were breaking international law. The title of her latest book, A Scrap of Paper (2014), alludes to the phrase that the German chancellor used to describe the international agreement governing Belgium's neutrality: it meant that little to him.

Hull described to my class the blockade's origins, what the Germans had thought and done, what the British were thinking, how they reached the decision to initiate the blockade, and what its likely impact was. But one concept stood out and remained a topic for discussion for the rest of the semester, even finding its way onto the final exam: it was the Latin phrase tu quoque. A literal translation of the phrase is "you also." Tu quoque is a rhetorical strategy whereby, instead of arguing directly against the claim of your opponent, you challenge their right to make an argument by charging them with hypocrisy. For example: the British government asserts that Germany violated international law by invading neutral Belgium and persecuting its inhabitants. The German government retorts that the British government itself is in breach of international law for having subsequently initiated a naval blockade against Germany, cutting off not only its supply of raw materials, but also (potentially) food to civilians.

The tu quoque is as old as the hills. Cicero used it to win a case in the trial of the exile Ligarius: "You are accusing one who has a case, as I say, better than your own." The Nazis were especially adept at deploying it. In 1942, the Nazi propaganda minister Joseph Goebbels confided to his diary: "The question of Jewish persecution in Europe is being given top news priority by the English and the Americans…We won't even discuss this theme publicly, but instead I gave orders to start an atrocity campaign against the English on their treatment of Colonials." There have been countless examples of tu quoque since. The Soviets countered American claims of human rights abuses with the phrase "And you are lynching negroes," which has its own entry on Wikipedia. Some Turkish scholars have used tu quoque to argue against claims that the Ottoman Empire instigated a genocide against the Armenians in 1915: "No nation is innocent. [T]hough the West has always accused the rest of the world of not being civilized enough, no other nations can be compared with the Germans, French, or Americans if we are talking about racism, fascism, and genocide."

In logic, the tu quoque is considered a fallacy, because it does not actually controvert the original statement. If anything, it confirms the moral valence of wrongdoing, declaring: Yes, I have done wrong, but so have you.


My personal favorite among Hull's books is titled Absolute Destruction, which lends a helpful aura of dead earnestness to any faculty office. Visitors' eyes invariably fall on the title: "Absolute Destruction?" they ask. "Yes," I reply, with deadly earnest glee.

Absolute Destruction shows with great clarity, precision, and, above all, evidence how the institutional culture of Imperial Germany's military leaked into its statecraft, with devastating effect. In the book and a related article, Hull argues that the German understanding of "military necessity" that emerged during wars in Europe and German Southwest Africa in the late nineteenth century—an understanding that had grown increasingly impervious to the influence of either politics or diplomacy—gave rise to the "final solutions" of the twentieth century.

The book that inspired Hull to become a historian was Konrad Heiden's Der Fuehrer: Hitler's Rise to Power (1944), which came into her hands at the age of twelve. It's a six-hundred-page, ultra-detailed history of Bavarian local politics during the Nazi takeover. Although she has never written on the Nazis directly, it doesn't take a very discerning reader to detect their shadow in the background of her work. She told me that what she remembers about Der Fuehrer is Heiden's description of "why a bunch of people would turn away from democracy," a possibility she had hitherto considered unthinkable.


I once ran into Hull in the mailroom, cursing at the copier. When I asked what she was working on, she told me she was reading for an article on Carl Schmitt, a twentieth-century German legal scholar whose work provided legal justification for the Nazis' suspension of the German constitution in 1933. Schmitt is frequently assigned in upper-level university courses; left-leaning scholars and students are drawn to his lucid critique of liberal hypocrisy. Yet I had noticed that whenever Schmitt's name came up at department events, my colleague reacted with unconcealed agitation. So when she told me she was writing about Schmitt, I was intrigued.

Schmitt suffered from a common malaise of many modern German intellectuals, she explained, who tended to reverse-engineer the premise of an argument from their desired outcome. They did not think and write in order to figure something out, but in order to justify something they either wanted to do or had already done. (A disturbingly fine example is Thomas Mann's Reflections of a Nonpolitical Man, first published in 1918. It's a retrospective intellectual/spiritual justification for Germany's involvement in the Great War, tacitly directed against Mann's own progressive brother Heinrich.)

Recently I read Hull's article on Schmitt, which focuses on the jurist's "pattern of argumentation." She writes that Schmitt was not a tu quoque man. Having recognized that the tactic did not serve Germany well at the postwar treaty negotiations, he favored another, much more radical mode of argumentation that went far beyond the aim of undermining the right of the accuser to judge the accused. His argument completely reversed the Allies' assertions that Germany was a megalomaniacal belligerent. It was not Germany, Schmitt insisted, but "Anglo-Saxonia" that had sought world domination with its "fake, universal international law." And it was not Germany, but the British who made "total war" with their blockade. In fact, the whole of international law was naught but a cover for Anglo-American imperialism. Norms themselves are always ideological, Schmitt concluded, "abstractions that obscure the facts of power."

Meanwhile, to retrospectively justify the Germans' invasion of neutral Belgium, Schmitt defined a "Notstand" (state of necessity). What made the Notstand exceptional was that it was not predicated on any rights possessed by others, nor on any duties or limitations on one's own comportment: it was unapologetically unilateral. Insofar as it took issue with the entire premise of the rights of others and espoused self-interest (realism) as the highest, indeed the only ideal in international relations, it was impervious to counter-arguments that appealed to fair play and international law.


A Scrap of Paper was published in 2014, at roughly the same time as Christopher Clark's Sleepwalkers: How Europe Went to War in 1914. It is difficult to imagine two more dissimilar works of scholarship. Whereas Hull argues German militaristic belligerence and deliberate disregard for international law led to the outbreak of the Great War, Clark does not assign blame, but rather focuses on the misperceptions of Europe's leading men—the "Sleepwalkers" of the title—in the months and weeks leading up to the war. Clark's work enjoys stellar ratings on Amazon, and has won a number of prizes and distinctions. One reviewer wrote of Sleepwalkers that it "deserves to become the new standard one-volume account" of the run-up to the Great War.

Although Hull hadn't read Clark's book when her own was published, in a sense, the "Prologue" of A Scrap of Paper offers a way of reading Sleepwalkers. The prologue is titled "What We Have Forgotten," and is about historians' complicity in effacing Germany's war guilt. She shows how, starting already in 1920, western journalists and scholars copy-pasted what the postwar German government—in its attempts to roll back reparations and undo the punitive Versailles treaties that ended the war—had fed them without probing to see what was left out or interrogating the bias of their sources. The result, she concludes, is a revisionist perception of the war very much like Clark's:

Faced with claims and counterclaims concerning violations of the laws of war, too many historians despair of getting to the bottom of things and making a reasonable judgment. Instead, they refuse to judge; they fall back on the tu quoque defense. That position generally rests on the unspoken (and rarely examined) premise that every violation was equal, that every decision of statesmen or military leaders to break the law was taken for the same reasons, or taken as easily or thoughtlessly, or was arrived at in the same way, following the same procedure, or was justified or explained to themselves or the world with the same arguments, or in the same language. In fact, all these things could, and often did, differ.

In other words, it was not the diplomats and statesmen of 1914 who were "sleepwalkers," but historians.


The last time I visited my colleague at her home, she said that her favorite among the things she's written is a short piece about the ideas of a late eighteenth-century German thinker, Adolph Freiherr von Knigge. In 1788, a year before the French Revolution, Knigge published a book titled Über den Umgang mit Menschen [On Intercourse with People]. Like many of the characters who appear in Hull's books, Knigge's thoughts have been distorted and obscured by both politics and posterity. Unlike most of those other characters, however, Hull clearly has a soft spot for Knigge.

Whereas Absolute Destruction and A Scrap of Paper read like expert exhumations of a mass grave with the object of identifying the perpetrators of a massacre, the piece on Knigge is more like an archaeological excavation of a long-lost treasure. Forensic skill and precision characterize all of Hull's writing, but in the Knigge piece—as in another of her early books, Sexuality, State, and Civil Society in Germany, 1700-1815—she shows us that there are good, smart people buried out there in the past.

She begins with a characterization of Knigge's philosophy as "change through willful individual action." But his was no libertarian manifesto. "It is important for anybody who wants to live in the world with people," Knigge insisted, "to adapt to the customs, tone, and mood of others." This injunction included one's enemies, whom one should treat with "benevolence, objectivity, understanding, [and] care." Above all: "Learn to countenance objection" [Lerne Widerspruch ertragen!]. Although On Intercourse with People was mistaken early on for a self-help book, and savaged by editors in subsequent editions to more closely resemble one, Hull notes that, "It does not lay down static rules of comportment, nor does it aim at cynical manipulation of others; rather it seeks to analyze why problems in social communication arise and how one might overcome them." Knigge's "first art" to living was "the art of making oneself understood, thus speaking and writing."

Reading Hull on Knigge is a melancholic enchantment. The Germans come off very badly in her last two books, not because she sees them as an ongoing menace to the world, but because she knows what treasures they destroyed and denied in their own thought in order to become the monsters of the first half of the twentieth century. There is an unmistakable love that emerges from contemplating Intercourse together with Absolute Destruction: "Let go of your desire to rule," wrote Knigge, "to play a brilliant main role." It is as if the poignant crime of Germany's most prominent modern thinkers, from Thomas Mann in Reflections, to Carl Schmitt, to Max Horkheimer, is that they tried to salvage German culture for humanity by defining it in opposition to liberalism. The tu quoque is a way of borrowing liberalism's mores to discredit liberalism, rather than to discredit the act of killing and power politics. Hull's oeuvre shows how German thinkers returned to this cynical reversal again and again, starting in the first half of the nineteenth century, when the liberals skewered and buried one of their own in Knigge. "Thus, liberalism itself destroyed one of the most remarkable sources of liberal thinking in German history."


A few weeks ago Hull told me how she sees Germany now: "It has really, really applied itself to its past, and is critical, insightful, morally scrupulous, and thoroughly admirable in the way that it has looked at itself. It's awake, and I'm filled with admiration for what they've done." As she sees it, today's menaces lie elsewhere, in the demagogic politics (Trump) and policies (drone warfare) of the United States, but also in the militarism and widely imitated authoritarianism of Russia. Just because some political systems and figures rely on the tu quoque instead of critically examining their own past and present policies does not exonerate us from critical self-examination. "Act independently!" exclaimed Knigge. "Do not deny your principles, […] in this way neither your social superiors nor inferiors will be able to withhold their respect."

Two of Knigge's principles were practicality and moderation. When I read this, I recalled another meeting with Hull, this time in her office. One of us was ill, or had been, so we started exchanging self-cures (none of which should be tried at home). There was my diluted hydrogen peroxide solution to address a lingering congestion, which left my olfactory nerves on permanent strike (I don't recall if it had any effect on the congestion). Hull then told me how she had cured herself of crippling fallen arches by forcing herself to walk miles a day in normal shoes all around hilly Ithaca. I countered with more hydrogen peroxide adventures, already feeling a bit like a one-trick pony. She then met me on my own pharmaceutical terrain by describing how she had cured herself of a skin malaise with the help of diluted bleach, and showed me the patch on her shin to prove it. "Completely cured!" she declared, beaming triumphantly.

I folded in awe and admiration, and pushed my metaphorical chips to her side of the table. Since then I don't play that game with her. When it comes to "practicality and moderation," no one can beat Isabel Hull.

Lest I be suspected of making a tu quoque argument here, let me be clear: I'm not. I am fully convinced that Hull practices what Knigge preached. Practicality is not about compromise; it's about efficacy. And moderation is not for the meek; it's for the rigorous.

Interview with Isabel Hull--August 5, 2016

Interview with Isabel Hull, John Stambaugh Professor of History at Cornell University. The interview was conducted in Ithaca, NY, on August 5, 2016. To access an mp3 of the complete interview, click here.

Hull is the author of four books which received numerous prizes between them, most notably Sexuality, State and Civil Society in Germany, 1700-1815 (Cornell University Press, 1996.), Absolute Destruction: Military Culture and the Practices of War in Imperial Germany (Cornell, 2004), and most recently A Scrap of Paper: Breaking and Making International Law in the First World War (Cornell, 2014). In addition to being a Member of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, she has also been a John Simon Guggenheim Fellow and an Alexander von Humboldt-Stiftung Research Fellow, and recently she won the very prestigious Max-Weber-Stiftung/Historisches Kolleg Research Prize.

Special thanks to Máté Rigó, Ph.D. (Cornell, 2016), for his help with the interview. 

Interview Themes

00:00 Introduction
01:00 Interest in Germany and German history, high school, early interest in Nazism
03:45 Choosing history as a profession
05:40 The Guns of August, early interest in WWI
08:00 Peculiarities of German history, themes that characterize Hull’s career
09:30 repetition in German history
11:45 Structures and their cultural aspects, habits, action, mind
12:15 A Scrap of Paper
13:00 1870 as a crucial in German history
14:20 1848
15:00 Sonderweg and its criticism
18:30 Max Weber
19:20 Germany’s special political path, WWI, WWII; Germany’s problems as political problems
21:00 Politics as key for understanding history
21:20 Trump
22:40 The role of chance in history
25:00 Kultur vs. politics in German political thought and practice
29:00 Critical interpretations of 19th- and 20th-century German history; Sexuality, State, and Civil Society in Germany
31:00 Interest in early modern history, baroque culture; David Sabean
32:00 Hannah Arendt
33:00 Intellectual influences: Gerhard L. Weinberg, Hans W. Gatzke, Peter Gay, Henry Turner, George Mosse, Joseph Redlich
36:00 Reaction to Christopher Clark’s Sleepwalkers
38:00 Diplomacy and the disappearance of Poland; Belgium
43:00 Interpretations of WWI; A Scrap of Paper
46:00 Current historiography and its problems; relativism; new interpretations of old stories as inadequate
50:00 Hull’s new project on WWI
54:00 Moral judgement and history
58:00 Social historical approach
1:02:00 WWI, diplomacy and its critics; Lenin
1:04:00 Belgium and WWI counterfactuals
1:09:00 International law and the protection of small states
1:10:00 States and international law
1:15:00 Council of Historians as advisory board to political elites; Graham Allison and Niall Ferguson’s article in The Atlantic
1:17:00 1839 Belgian treaties and origins of WWI
1:21:00 Emotions of Germans in early 1900s; the revolutionizing of Europe by Germany
1:29:00 István Bibó; Thomas Mann
1:31:00 Vergangenheitsbewältigung
1:35:00 Experience of the Bundesrepublik in the 1970s; RAF; The Green movement, the women’s movement
1:40:00 Current world politics; Russia; tu quoque argument
1:42:00 Russian historical development v US
1:46:00 Vladimir Putin, KGB
1:48:00 Angela Merkel

For a short piece on Hull and the use of "tu quoque," see Wide Awake with Isabel Hull