In Search of a Photograph

In 1912, at the age of sixty-nine and seven years after she became the first woman awarded the Nobel Peace Prize, Bertha von Suttner traveled across the Atlantic Ocean for her second speaking tour of the United States. Such a voyage by ship would have been perilous enough for a woman of her age and faltering health, but news of the sinking of the Titanic, a tragedy in which 1,500 passengers died in the icy waters just a month earlier, would have surely added to her anxiety. 

Countless reports in newspapers large and small documented her months-long journey from New York City to San Francisco and back again. Thousands packed into the Chautauqua, New York, amphitheater to hear her speak. At smaller venues in smaller towns, Bertha met with groups of mostly women for luncheons and local presentations. Along the way, she was also invited to spend some time on a golf course with U.S. President William Howard Taft, who confided to her that on the matter of world peace, “We share the same platform.”  

Bertha’s U.S. tour sets the stage for the above photograph, an image of her that (I thought) I had never seen before. As good fortune would have it, an historical archive was offering the physical 8×10 print for a relatively small price—relative, at least, to the hundreds of dollars charged per use for digitized versions of similar photographs at major stock companies such as Getty and Alamy. The seller included a scan of the back of the photograph, which showed that it had once belonged to the Pacific Bureau of the Newspaper Enterprise Association (N.E.A.).

I shared this information with the international peace studies scholar Peter van den Dungen, who promptly replied that the image appeared to be a detail from a photo originally used in Gisela Brinker-Gabler’s 1982 biography, Bertha von Suttner: Kämpferin für den Frieden (page 104). That grainy reproduction shows up in several later publications, but the image I have (yes, reader, I purchased it!) is significantly clearer and includes only Bertha’s face in the frame. 

Based on Peter’s information, I was able to locate the photo he had described as it originally appeared. It accompanied a newspaper article about a reception Bertha attended on June 28, 1912, in San Francisco with Phoebe Hearst, the mother of media mogul William Randolph Hearst. With this much clearer image at hand, I could detect slight differences suggesting that I had acquired a completely different photograph, one taken moments before or after the group shot.

It’s worth noting that the photograph I have is not just a reprinted version of a scanned image. It’s an historical artifact, complete with markings and imperfections that reveal both its age and original usage. White ink outlines Bertha’s head, a common practice in newspapers of that time to remove distracting backgrounds. The photo retoucher also used darker ink to highlight Bertha’s eyebrows, eyes, and mouth, adding the contrast necessary to ensure a sharper image in print. Think of it as primitive Photoshopping. In addition, the image appears to be “flopped,” turned on its vertical axis so that Bertha looks to the left instead of the right. In preparing a final image for sharing, I have employed a few photo-editing tricks of my own to repair and restore the image. (Please contact me directly if you would like a higher-resolution digital file of the final enhanced image.)

After several days of searching through newspaper archives, I finally found the altered version of Bertha’s image alongside the newspaper story below. Apparently, the story and the image were sent to multiple Scripps-McRae-owned newspapers, as many subscribed to content-providing services such as the Newspaper Enterprise Association. 

“Through the voice of women will come international peace,” Bertha proclaimed in a speech given just days after this photograph was taken. I’m honored to amplify that voice once more in our own militaristic times, and to do so alongside this newly discovered photograph of her.

On the 75th Anniversary of the United Nations

Today the world celebrates the 75th anniversary of the United Nations, an international alliance forged in the crucible of World War II to prevent future military cataclysms. The preamble to the UN Charter lists four guiding aspirations:

  • to save succeeding generations from the scourge of war, which twice in our lifetime has brought untold sorrow to mankind
  • to reaffirm faith in fundamental human rights, in the dignity and worth of the human person, in the equal rights of men and women and of nations large and small
  • to establish conditions under which justice and respect for the obligations arising from treaties and other sources of international law can be maintained
  • to promote social progress and better standards of life in larger freedom
President Harry Truman watches as U.S. delegate Edward R. Stettinius signs the UN Charter

The United Nations succeeded the League of Nations, formed after the first World War in 1920. Though U.S. President Woodrow Wilson would receive a Nobel Peace Prize for his fundamental role in developing the league, the United States never joined as an official member. During the second World War, U.S. President Franklin D. Roosevelt and British Prime Minister Winston Churchill envisioned a stronger global organization and developed the Atlantic Charter, the seed from which the UN Charter sprang. Years later, the Nobel Peace Prize committee first acknowledged the role of the UN by honoring Ralph Bunche, a U.S. diplomat who helped bring about peace in the Middle East after the original negotiator was killed by extremists. Bunche was also the first person of color to become a Peace Prize laureate.

Interestingly, Woodrow Wilson and Bertha von Suttner spent some time together at Skibo, the luxurious Scottish castle owned by the American pacifist and philanthropist Andrew Carnegie. Woodrow was then president of Princeton University; Bertha had hopes of convincing Carnegie to become her new patron after the death of Alfred Nobel some years earlier. It’s not hard to imagine Bertha bending Woodrow’s ear about peace during the long carriage ride from the train station to Carnegie’s countryside estate. In fact, their signatures appear, one atop the other, in Skibo’s guest registry.

At the Fourth World’s Peace Congress in Bern, Switzerland, in 1892, Bertha had co-sponsored a proposal concerning “the formation of a confederation of states on the basis of the solidarity of their interests.” She and her co-signers invited “all the societies in the world, especially at the time of political elections, to draw attention to the necessity of a permanent congress of nations, to which every international question should be submitted, so that every conflict may be settled by law and not by force.” Their vision would eventually be realized not only in the League of Nations and the United Nations but also in the establishment of the International Criminal Court and the International Court of Arbitration. These latter organizations are both housed in the Peace Palace in The Hague, Netherlands, a grand building funded in large part by Carnegie at the request of Suttner and her pacifist colleagues.

The Peace Palace in The Hague, the Netherlands

All of the efforts noted above evolved from centuries of philosophical inquiry, most notably, perhaps, from the written works of Hugo Grotius and Immanuel Kant. They also stand as a testament to the value of shared knowledge, received and transmitted through time. Imagine how our world leaders today might fulfill the goals of the U.N. charter if they educated themselves more deeply in the history and philosophy of pacifism. Such inquiries can inspire us all as we work together toward a more peaceful coexistence around the globe.

BONUS: Hear Sir Laurence Olivier read aloud the preamble to the UN Charter.

The Ignoble Nominees

Replicas of the Nobel Peace Prize inside the Nobelinstitutt building in Oslo, Norway.

This year, the Norwegian Nobel Prize Committee reports that they have received 318 valid nominations for the 2020 Nobel Peace Prize. Per the committee’s standing rules, they will not publicly confirm, identify, or discuss any of these candidates for fifty years, a guideline that they likewise expect the wide range of nominating officials to honor. These stipulations, as well as details of the decision-making process itself, are clearly spelled out on the agency’s Web site. Even so, whenever the annual awards season nears, various parties begin to boast about their nominations and declaim the likelihood, pro or con, of their becoming one of the distinguished laureates. The prize itself becomes a political tool, an opportunity to promote self over society in ways that run counter to Nobel’s core ideals.

When Nobel envisioned the peace prize in his last will and testament, he established three criteria directly linked to the ongoing work of Bertha von Suttner and her contemporary pacifists: “fraternity between nations,” “the abolition and reduction of standing armies,” and “the holding and promotion of peace congresses.” Future Nobel wannabes can quickly estimate their eligibility by evaluating their own efforts toward these three goals. Not surprisingly, perhaps, many who outwardly crave such a high honor are often among the least deserving. Any male U.S. politician who brags about developing new weapons of mass destruction, for example, might just as well campaign for the title of highest-scoring female South American soccer star. Such behavior not only demonstrates both disregard and disrespect for Nobel’s clearly stated wishes; it demeans the efforts of legitimate peacemakers around the globe.

The Peace Prize decision-making process. Nominations must be made by February 1.

Still, critics continue to point out that none of the five Nobel awards has avoided controversy of some sort during their history. The achievements of female scientists, such as Marie Curie, have long been shadowed by male counterparts; theories based on racist assumptions, such as eugenics, have been discredited over time. Likewise, some peace prize laureates, despite showing good faith and promise in their initial peacemaking efforts, eventually failed in their efforts or fell back upon more violent solutions in response to events around them. One recent article by Graeme Wood in The Atlantic suggested that, because of this, the world should abandon the peace prize altogether, though this seems akin to shutting down an entire university after one or two scholarship recipients courted scandal after graduation, a common enough occurrence.

Most people around the world continue to anticipate the annual announcements of the Nobel awards as opportunities to restore our faith in humanity, especially in dark and dire times such as these. We look forward to hearing about new discoveries and initiatives in various fields that might, as Nobel envisioned, “confer the greatest benefit on mankind.” We reject nihilism and, instead, embrace the idealism of young peacemakers, such as Malala Yousafzi and Nadia Murad, whose enduring optimism helped them transform personal trauma into societal progress.

Personally, I welcome the announcement of a surprise laureate, someone who has toiled until now in relative silence and obscurity. The world stands ready to receive these new heroes, peace pioneers who inspire hope and progress and don’t tempt us down the dark path to cynicism. As historian Burton Feldman reflects in his book The Nobel Prize: A History of Genius, Controversy, and Prestige: “The peace movement is dedicated to the greater good, not private glory.” The more pompous Nobel wannabes of the world would do well to remember that. 

(The charts above appear on the Web site of the Nobel Prize Organization, which you are encouraged to visit by clicking here.)

Thoughts on the 75th Anniversary of V-E Day

New York City’s Times Square on May 8, 1945

Today, Europe celebrates the 75th anniversary of V-E day, the official recognition of the Nazi’s surrender to Allied forces, in the shadow of a raging pandemic. In some countries, the climbing infection and death rates have been turned around. In others, the worst is yet to come. In 1945, even as Europe declared freedom from fascist oppression, fighting continued in the Pacific. Nonetheless, civilians gathered to express their joy in small-town streets and city squares. V-E Day rekindled a sense of hope in a war-ravaged world. Peace was still possible after all.

U.S. President Franklin D. Roosevelt didn’t live to see V-E Day, having died of a brain hemorrhage just weeks beforehand. Even so, he had already envisioned the hard work that would be necessary beyond the end of the fighting. “The transition from war to peace should be carried forward rapidly,” he had declared in the fall of 1944. “This is the time to do planning, although the war, even in Europe, is not over.”

In her newspaper column “My Day” on May 8, 1945, Eleanor Roosevelt echoed her husband’s words when she wrote, “We will never have peace without friendship around the world. This is the time for a long look ahead. This is the time for us all to decide where we go from here.” For Eleanor, that meant promoting peace and prosperity among all nations, an endeavor that would result in the formation of the United Nations and the 1948 adoption of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. That document remains a touchstone of hope and faith in humanity throughout the world today. 

Eleanor Roosevelt insisted on displaying the “Universal Declaration of Human Rights” in numerous languages to celebrate its adoption by the United Nations.

Article 25 of the Declaration states, “Everyone has the right to a standard of living adequate for the health and well-being of himself and of his family, including food, clothing, housing and medical care and necessary social services, and the right to security in the event of unemployment, sickness, disability, widowhood, old age or other lack of livelihood in circumstances beyond his control.” Sadly, many countries have yet to achieve this goal, a fact made all too clear by the current pandemic. 

Indian writer and activist Arundhati Roy

In a recent article, Indian author Arundhati Roy agonizes over the horrific situation in her home country while looking ahead to a post-pandemic world. Like the Roosevelts decades earlier, she sees the value in planning now in order to prepare for a better future. “Historically, pandemics have forced humans to break with the past and imagine their world anew,” she writes. “This one is no different. It is a portal, a gateway between one world and the next. We can choose to walk through it, dragging the carcasses of our prejudice and hatred, our avarice, our data banks and dead ideas, our dead rivers and smoky skies behind us. Or we can walk through lightly, with little luggage, ready to imagine another world. And ready to fight for it.”

Seventy-five years ago, citizens around the world cheered in joy and relief at the European prospects for peace. The echoes of their celebrations should inspire us to renew our own commitments to peace and unity today and to embrace the yet-unfulfilled ideal of a healthy and equitable post-pandemic world.

A Place at the Table

As friends and families around the United States gather together for their Thanksgiving dinners today, many (according to a plethora of trendy newspaper stories) dread the sort of political discussion that raises the risk of appetite loss and/or indigestion. I recall holidays at home with my own family and my mother’s requests that I refrain from bringing up subjects such as nuclear disarmament or gay rights at the table. She, too, would remain politely silent despite the antagonistic comments of others. One in particular, an offhand remark that doctors shouldn’t treat people with HIV/AIDS because they deserve to die, still burns in my heart.

“The Dinner Table” by Judy Chicago, 1979

With that in mind, my Thanksgiving morning this year was spent reading about Judy Chicago and the various women commemorated in her installation, “The Dinner Table.” This year marks the 40th anniversary of the masterpiece, widely regarded as a cornerstone of feminist art. When asked about what had inspired her, Chicago recalled an actual dinner party she had attended in 1974: “The men at the table were all professors,” she said, “and the women all had doctorates but weren’t professors. The women had all the talent, and they sat there silent while the men held forth.” 

The artist Judy Chicago

For centuries, women had no “place at the table” when it came to political discourse. Chicago’s imaginary banquet hall features a triangular table with 39 place settings for influential female figures. The contributions from an additional 999 women are honored with names inscribed on “The Heritage Floor.” These women, Bertha von Suttner among them, represent the foundations upon which feminist progress was built.

Though Bertha was invited to numerous international parliamentary conferences during her lifetime, she attended only as a guest, since governmental business was the nearly exclusive province of men. (Royalty allowed for some rare exceptions.) Likewise, in political discussions of the day, her viewpoints and ideas were often summarily dismissed solely because she was a woman. This explains why she, along with many other female writers of her time, used a gender-neutral pseudonym, “B. Oulotte,” when publishing her early political and philosophical essays. (Bertha’s nickname in the Suttner household was “Boulotte,” which roughly translates to “Fatty.”) For her landmark book The Machine Age, Bertha went by the name “Jemand,” the German word for “someone” or “anyone.” As she explained in her Memoirs: “I was afraid that if the book were signed with a woman’s name, it would not reach the readers for whom it was expressly designed, for in scientific circles there remains so much prejudice against the capacity of women as thinkers.” 

The International Congress of Women held in Den Haag, the Netherlands, in April of 1915

This Thanksgiving, we should feel grateful for the progress made over the past century, not only in women’s rights but in the rights of other previously silenced and marginalized peoples. Much hard work remains. Even so, our holiday dinner-table conversations can build upon that progress and inspire us to learn how the voices of yesterday helped to lift up our voices today.

Introducing the Bertha von Suttner Peace Prize

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Nino Kalandarishvili holds up the inaugural Bertha von Suttner Peace Prize alongside Salome Adamia and Petra Keppler.

This spring, Nino Kalandarishvili became the first recipient of the Bertha von Suttner Peace Prize in Zugdidi, Georgia. The ceremony took place on the grounds of the Dadiani Palace, where Ekaterina Dadiani, the last Princess of Mingrelia, welcomed Bertha and her husband Artur immediately following their elopement from Vienna, Austria. Shunned by Artur’s disapproving parents, the Suttners would remain in Georgia for nine years. Forced to move from place to place, they relied on teaching and writing to avoid falling into abject poverty, a challenging contrast from their aristocratic backgrounds. 

While in the Caucasus region, Bertha and Artur witnessed growing tensions and conflicts between local residents, visiting expatriates, and the warring Turks and Russians. It’s entirely likely that the seeds of Bertha’s groundbreaking novel Lay Down Your Arms! first germinated in Georgian soil. With that in mind, Zugdidi provides a fitting venue for honoring peacemakers in our own time.

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Promotional materials for the prize include an image of the Dadiani Palace in Zugdidi.

Initiated by the Georgian youth group Trust for Peace, the Bertha von Suttner Peace Prize received international support from Zugdidi’s municipal government, the Austrian Embassy in Tblisi, the Bertha von Suttner Peace Institute of the Netherlands, the Women’s Network for Peace of Germany, and the youth welfare group Act for Transformation, also of Germany.

In her role as chair of the Institute for the Study of Nationalism and Conflicts (http://isnc.ge/), Nino Kalandarishvili has been actively promoting civil dialogue and mediation among numerous communities, both within and beyond national borders. Her bridge-building work brings her into constant contact with politicians and refugees, diplomats and activists. The inaugural Peace Prize recognizes the many ways in which her inspirational personality and professional perseverance contribute toward the success of her efforts toward conflict resolution. She personifies the stated goals of the Bertha von Suttner Peace Prize: “to honor the contribution of activists participating in peacemaking activities, to promote peaceful attitudes in society, and to engage young people in the process of building international trust and cooperation.” 

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The 2019 Bertha von Suttner Peace Prize

To learn more about the annual Bertha von Suttner Peace Prize and its sponsors, you can click on the links above as well as those listed on the “Resources” page.

Symbolic Gestures

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Young Franz Kafka

Much has changed since my last post here, especially after the U.S. election last November. I’ve been tempted to comment on the many parallels between the daily news and the historical events I’ve been researching (among them terrorism in the early 1890s, anti-immigration and anti-Semitic policies of that day, the looming specter of doomsday devices, and even disputes over Venezuelan sovereignty).

At the same time, I’ve felt a greater urgency to complete the final chapters and not be overly distracted by all the hype and click-bait published in the media, both social and professional. On several occasions I’ve thought about Franz Kafka’s dispassionate and seemingly self-centered journal entry on the outbreak of World War I: “Germany has declared war on Russia. Went swimming in the afternoon.”

(Brief historical aside: Kafka’s spirit haunts me as I write this book, especially after I learned that Bertha von Suttner’s birthplace, the Kinsky Palace in Prague, was later converted into the grammar school that Kafka attended as a child. It now houses the Franz Kafka Bookshop. See http://www.prague.cz/kinsky-palace/ for more details.)

 

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The Kinsky Palace in Prague, birthplace of Bertha von Suttner and, later, the site of a grammar school attended by Franz Kafka

There’s a vast psychological distance between those two sentences in Kafka’s journal, and yet by now many of us are all too familiar with it, perhaps to the point of feeling overwhelmed and completely powerless in the face of current events. What can one single person do in this place and time to create a better future for our world? For some, the answer is to take to the streets with banners and placards, to spend hours arguing with legislators on the telephone, to post and repost fact-based articles detailing the most demanding issues of the day. For others, the answer is to persist and persevere along our chosen paths. “Stay in your lane,” advised the poet and journalist Ted Genoways, urging fellow writers to do what they do best: write. The benefits may not be realized in the short-term, especially for those of us working on epic-length novels, but we maintain faith in the positive, long-term effects.

In the meantime, we should look to our health as individuals and prepare ourselves for what promises to be a long-term challenge. When has this not been the case? Losing sleep, courting depression, indulging addictions: none of these helps with solutions.

The trend toward aggressive militarism in the United States, for example, didn’t begin with the contested election of Donald Trump, nor did the nation’s long-running struggle with racism and xenophobia. When I began writing this book years ago, these ugly and immoral aspects of American life were already deeply ingrained in our culture. Just compare how a 19th-century female pacifist like Bertha von Suttner would have responded to the wildly popular movie “Wonder Woman” and so many viewers’ claims that here, at last, was a positive role model for young women. To use a modern catch-phrase, “I can’t even.”

Today is the International Day of Peace, one of many symbolic annual events such as Earth Day that neatly package a grand idea into twenty four hours of observation. Many (like me, I’ll admit) will post a banner or meme on their Facebook walls before returning relatively unaffected to our daily work. Some, like the real wonder woman, Nobel Peace prize winner Malala Yousafzi, may continue to act on their beliefs in human goodness and progress, perhaps placing one brick atop another to construct a new and sturdy schoolhouse for young women in a war-ravaged nation. (More likely, Malala will be hunkered down in the library doing her homework after classes at Oxford University, continuing to improve herself even as she works to improve the world.)

 

Screen Shot 2017-09-02 at 5.02.37 PMSymbolic gestures such as International Peace Day remind us that the work of peace is varied and ongoing. Bertha von Suttner was a firm believer in the power of advertising and propaganda; in fact, these were among the primary goals of the many peace societies she helped to found throughout Europe. Together with other luminaries of the day, she helped craft a pin for society members to wear, something visible to promote the cause in public. “Peace is sought for by Justice,” the emblem read, reminding members of the ideology behind their movement. Today, we carry that idealism forward according to our individual gifts and talents. On days like International Peace Day, it’s worth pausing to consider what our efforts can achieve collectively.

So on this day, remind others that our labors for peace are ongoing and that we must continue to do what we can do. Read a newspaper to stay engaged. Volunteer to help a friend or neighbor in need. Share your hopes for a better world. Purchase a book to stay enlightened. And swim a few laps to stay healthy.

Swords into Ploughshares

 

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“Let Us Beat Our Swords into Ploughshares,” a sculpture by Evgeny Vuchetich presented to the United Nations in 1959 and on display at its headquarters in New York City

God shall judge among the nations, and shall decide for many peoples: and they shall beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning hooks: nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.
—Isaiah 2:4

 

For decades now I’ve looked to the literary journal Ploughshares as a symbol of the positive influence that writing can have on establishing a more just and peaceful world. Derived from the biblical quote above, the publication’s name refers to the constructive and creative application of the tools crafted to help civilize the world, language and literature among them.

With that clearly in mind, I submitted the first excerpt from Peace at Last, a chapter entitled “Koppargruva,” to the editors in the hopes that it might find a meaningful home there. I’m ever so thankful that it has.

This conflation of good and evil, construction and destruction, haunted Alfred Nobel throughout his life and features prominently in this excerpt. His patented applications of explosives (nitroglycerin, dynamite, and gelignite most notable among them) led to incredible advances in the mining and railway industries and, in so doing, helped to transform the world at an unprecedented rate. However, military applications of the same technology, at first held at arm’s length by Nobel, caused death and destruction at similarly unprecedented levels.

Throughout his life, Nobel considered ways to balance the destructive power of his explosives with more constructive and unifying pursuits. Working together with Bertha von Suttner, he funded pacifist societies throughout Europe and eventually, also at her insistence, endowed the peace prize that now bears his name. For him, this represented one way to establish a more progressive and positive legacy despite society’s depiction of him as a “merchant of death.”

“Cannot swords be turned to ploughshares?” Ronald Reagan asked in his address to the 42d Session of the United Nations General Assembly in New York City nearly a century later. He continued, “Can we and all nations not live in peace? In our obsession with antagonisms of the moment, we often forget how much unites all the members of humanity. Perhaps we need some outside, universal threat to make us recognize this common bond. I occasionally think how quickly our differences world-wide would vanish if we were facing an alien threat from outside this world. And yet, I ask you, is not an alien force already among us? What could be more alien than war and the threat of war?”

These questions and concerns, debated for centuries, still trouble society today. They can inspire us toward aspiration and optimism just as easily as they can lead us to despair and cynicism. They’re the motivation behind my devotion to Peace at Last, for in Alfred and Bertha I see both sword and ploughshare. They’re also at the core of the moral crisis depicted in “Koppargruva,” one of the early “Nobel” chapters from the book.

The Ploughshares “Solos” version of “Koppargruva” is now available directly from the Ploughshares Web site (https://www.pshares.org/solos/koppargruva-solo-52) and can also be purchased and downloaded via iBooks (Apple iTunes) and Kindle (amazon.com, where it’s a dollar more for some reason).

The title can also be found on kobo.com, where new registrants are frequently treated to an instant $5 credit. Might I suggest adding Bertha von Suttner’s Lay Down Your Arms ($2.99) to your cart along with “Koppargruva”? You’d still have two cents left to put toward another purchase…

Continuous Education

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Portrait of Bertha von Suttner (1894) by Adrienne Gräfin Potting. The painting now hangs at Schloss Harmannsdorf, once Bertha’s home in Austria.

In 1912, Bertha von Suttner addressed the National Education Association of the United States of America and declared, “It seems to me that education must be continuous, and that the greatest educators are life and experience.” As she well knew at the time, life and experience were often the only two avenues for learning available to women, who were still barred from pursuing a more formal education in many countries.

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“Martha’s Tagebuch,” published in 1897, was adapted from Suttner’s novel “Lay Down Your Arms” and became “the first work of German pacifist children’s literature” (Roderick McGillis, 2003).

As part of her efforts to spread the message of peace from her landmark best-seller, Lay Down Your Arms!: The Autobiography of Martha von Tilling, Bertha worked with her close friend and fellow writer Hedwig Gräfin Potting (whom she jokingly referred to as “Hex,” from the German word for “witch”) to create and publish a version of the book that might appeal to younger audiences and help educate them about the horrific costs of war. Based on the life and experiences of the original novel’s central character, Martha’s Tagebuch (Martha’s Diary) features several illustrations by Hedwig’s sister Adrienne, who years earlier had painted a youthful portrait of the world-famous author.

With the gracious help of my friend Patty Paige-Pfennig in Wiesbaden, I’ve been fortunate to obtain a first edition of the book, one that had been tucked away in an old barn in Germany. Even though Bertha was the first woman to receive the Nobel Peace Prize, her resounding calls for peace and disarmament were regarded as a serious threat to the militaristic leaders of her day. Many of Bertha’s published works and personal effects were destroyed by the Nazis and other fascist groups in the decades between World Wars I and II, so the book is a rare find indeed.

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The fictional Martha von Tilling, based in large part on Bertha von Suttner herself, writes in her journal. Illustration from “Martha’s Tagebuch” by Hedwig Gräfin Potting.

Writing a historical novel involves following a number of paths and tangents, some of which can result in an author’s falling “down the rabbit hole” and losing track of the original story and its themes. In this instance, however, I’m thankful to have discovered an important secondary character for the book in Hedwig “Hex” Potting, especially as Hex was one the very first people to learn that Bertha had finally been awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1905. I look forward to sharing more stories of the lives and experiences of such engaging characters as I continue to follow in the footsteps of Bertha von Suttner and Alfred Nobel.