Trio of book honors for 吃瓜网 historian Nicole Eaton
As an undergraduate, Associate Professor of History Nicole Eaton started out majoring in biology, but always found herself looking forward to her history class鈥攕o much, in fact, that she wound up making history her academic focus, and then her vocation.
Eaton never regretted that decision, and a trio of recent honors along with the fellowships and grants she鈥檚 received鈥攆rom the United States Holocaust Museum, the Harriman Institute, Fulbright-Hays, and the Woodrow Wilson Foundation, among others鈥攈ave provided plenty of professional validation.
Her 2023 book, German Blood, Slavic Soil: How Nazi K枚nigsberg Became Soviet Kaliningrad鈥攁n examination of the Baltic Sea port city鈥檚 ordeal through brutal 20th-century geopolitics鈥攚as the winner of the Reginald Zelnik Book Prize in History, presented annually by the Association for Slavic, East European, and Eurasian Studies for an outstanding monograph published on Russia, Eastern Europe, or Eurasia in the field of history. ASEEES also awarded her an honorable mention for the W. Bruce Lincoln Book Prize, which recognizes an author鈥檚 first published monograph or scholarly synthesis that is of exceptional merit and lasting significance for the understanding of Russia鈥檚 past.
In addition, Eaton received an honorable mention for the German Studies Association DAAD/GSA Prize for the Best Book in History and Social Science.
The Reginald Zelnik Prize was particularly gratifying for Eaton: Its namesake, a distinguished scholar of Russian labor and social history, was her mentor at the University of California-Berkeley; he was killed in a traffic accident while Eaton was working on her doctoral degree.
鈥淩eggie took an interest in my application, even though my background was in German studies,鈥� said Eaton, who joined the Boston College faculty in 2015. 鈥淗e encouraged me to start learning Russian and hired me to serve as a teaching assistant for his Russian history course. As a first-generation college student, I really appreciated that support, so to have won the award named for him means a lot to me.鈥�
In German Blood, Slavic Soil, Eaton examines how one city endured life under the 20th century鈥檚 most violent revolutionary regimes, Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union. As K枚nigsberg, it served as the easternmost point of Hitler鈥檚 Third Reich and the launch point for the Nazis鈥� genocidal war in the East. Decimated by the war and occupied by the Soviets, the 700-year-old city鈥攔enamed Kaliningrad鈥攖hen became the western edge of Stalin鈥檚 empire.
Eaton goes beyond military history, using eyewitness accounts and other contemporary sources to show how German and Soviet/Russian attitudes toward, and beliefs about, one another shaped everyday life in the city. She also relates how, despite their brutal conquest of K枚nigsberg, the Soviets made an effort to integrate the city鈥檚 German population into the Soviet empire鈥攁n effort that proved tragically short lived.
For Eaton, the story of K枚nigsberg/Kaliningrad, compelling in and of itself, also provided a means to study wider questions around identity and place, and how these may be complicated by regional or international politics.
鈥淢y book is different from many urban histories in that it engages with two historiographies, Russian and German,鈥� she explained. 鈥淚 felt that the story of this city would be a way to examine transnational history in one place, in one context. I鈥檝e always been drawn to the complexities of belonging, of identity and how societies understand who gets to belong and who doesn鈥檛.
鈥淭he Nazis defined the boundaries of the German community around the so-called Aryan racial type, in opposition to people such as Jews and Slavs, whom they thought of as racially inferior. The Soviets, meanwhile, defined belonging in terms of class rather than by race鈥攖hey imagined socialism to be the antidote to race-based nationalism.鈥�
The Soviets set out to rebuild the ruins of K枚nigsberg into socialist Kaliningrad, and they at first tried to incorporate their former German enemies into the socialist system they were building.聽 But by 1947, overwhelmed by the wartime devastation and the high rate of death of disease in the region, the Soviets scapegoated the Germans as irredeemable fascists who were preventing Kaliningrad from being rebuilt. They expelled the surviving German population by late 1948, after nearly 40 percent of the Germans had died.
聽鈥淭he Soviet Union鈥檚 declaration during the war had been, 鈥榃e鈥檙e fighting fascism in the name of socialism.鈥� But the new Soviet population in Kaliningrad after the war came to think of 鈥榝ascist鈥� or 鈥楴azi鈥� as the same as 鈥楪erman,鈥欌�� noted Eaton, 鈥渁nd 鈥榮ocialist鈥� came to mean the same as 鈥楻ussian.鈥�
鈥淭his conflation of Russian ethnic identity with socialism continues to affect Russian self-understanding today. When Putin invaded Ukraine in 2022, he presented the nationalist defense of ethnic Russians as a virtuous second battle against fascism鈥攖his time against supposed Ukrainian Nazis.鈥�
As part of her research for German Blood, Slavic Soil, Eaton lived for a year in Kaliningrad.聽 Today, the region is once again a semi-closed zone because of NATO sanctions and Russian security restrictions.聽 When Eaton lived there before the war in Ukraine broke out, she appreciated the rich and vibrant cultural life of the city that grew out of K枚nigsberg鈥檚 ruins.
鈥淲hat鈥檚 fascinating is to see, literally, the layers of history in Kaliningrad,鈥� said Eaton. 鈥淭here are vestiges of the German era all over the city: Some buildings still have traces of German ornamentation or pre-war architectural styles. Even the cast iron manhole covers and the cobblestone streets evoke Kaliningrad鈥檚 German prehistory. The rhythms of that former life still shape the present.
鈥淏erlin, by contrast, is very 鈥榤useumized鈥�: Its public history is organized in a scripted way to convey a particular story of the Third Reich and the Cold War. Kaliningrad鈥檚 visible traces of history seem, by contrast, more raw and unscripted鈥攂ut at the same time, more evocative of the messiness of lived experience.鈥澛�