The thirst for post-World War II justice transcended the Cold War and mobilized diverse social groups. This is a story of their multilayered and at times conflictual interactions. In this edited collection, sixteen historians develop a new approach to the trials against persons accused of war crimes and mass murder in Europe during the ascendancy of Nazism and the Second World War (1933-1945). Focusing on the social aspects of the demand for justice and making use of previously underexploited local and international sources, contributors put to the test the notion of "show trials" and explore a range of judicial and political cultures from Germany to the Soviet Union. Essays uncover the expectations around accountability and forms of mobilization on the part of a range of citizens involved in the trials: survivors, witnesses, perpetrators, Nazi hunters, and civic activists. In addition to the perspective of these citizens, contributors invoke the expertise of reporters, filmmakers, historians, investigators, and prosecutors who shaped public representations of justice. These shaping efforts, the authors show, often supported the desire of political authorities to benefit from the publicity of the trials and to contain the spontaneous dissemination of information. The book's close examination of interactions between citizens and authorities thus demonstrates the extent and limits of what might be called a "coproduction" of justice, in the process shedding light on the interdependence between historical knowledge and legal prosecution of mass crimes.

Francois Truffaut called "Night and Fog" "the greatest film ever made." But when Alain Resnais finished his documentary, with its depiction of Nazi atrocities, the resistance of the French censors was fierce. A mere decade had passed since the end of the war, and the French public was unprepared to confront the horrors shown in the film--let alone the possibility of French complicity. In fact it would be through "Night and Fog" that many viewers first learned, as film critic Serge Daney put it, "that the worst had only just taken place."

An engrossing account of the genesis, production, and legacy of Resnais's incomparable film, this book documents in extraordinary detail how a film that began as a cinematic spin-off of an educational exhibition on "resistance, liberation, and deportation" went on to become a significant step in the building of a collective consciousness of the tragedy of World War II. Sylvie Lindeperg frames her investigation with the story of historian Olga Wormser-Migot, who played an integral role in the research and writing of "Night and Fog"--and whose slight error on one point gave purchase to the film's detractors and revisionists and Holocaust deniers. Lindeperg follows the travails of Resnais, Wormser-Migot, and their collaborators in a pan-European search for footage, photographs, and other documentation. She uncovers creative use of liberation footage to stand in for daily life of the camps featured to such shocking effect in the film--a finding that raises hotly debated questions about reenactment and witnessing even as it enhances our understanding of the film's provenance and impact.

A microhistory of a film that altered the culture it reflected, "Night and Fog "offers a unique interpretation of the interworking of biography, history, politics, and film in one epoch-making cultural moment.

Francois Truffaut called "Night and Fog" "the greatest film ever made." But when Alain Resnais finished his documentary, with its depiction of Nazi atrocities, the resistance of the French censors was fierce. A mere decade had passed since the end of the war, and the French public was unprepared to confront the horrors shown in the film--let alone the possibility of French complicity. In fact it would be through "Night and Fog" that many viewers first learned, as film critic Serge Daney put it, "that the worst had only just taken place."

An engrossing account of the genesis, production, and legacy of Resnais's incomparable film, this book documents in extraordinary detail how a film that began as a cinematic spin-off of an educational exhibition on "resistance, liberation, and deportation" went on to become a significant step in the building of a collective consciousness of the tragedy of World War II. Sylvie Lindeperg frames her investigation with the story of historian Olga Wormser-Migot, who played an integral role in the research and writing of "Night and Fog"--and whose slight error on one point gave purchase to the film's detractors and revisionists and Holocaust deniers. Lindeperg follows the travails of Resnais, Wormser-Migot, and their collaborators in a pan-European search for footage, photographs, and other documentation. She uncovers creative use of liberation footage to stand in for daily life of the camps featured to such shocking effect in the film--a finding that raises hotly debated questions about reenactment and witnessing even as it enhances our understanding of the film's provenance and impact.

A microhistory of a film that altered the culture it reflected, "Night and Fog "offers a unique interpretation of the interworking of biography, history, politics, and film in one epoch-making cultural moment.