Swastika, Hakenkreuz 鈥� Tracing the History of A Charged Symbol
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The symbol commonly referred to as the swastika has a history that spans thousands of years and many continents. Its adoption by the Nazi party during the fascist regime in Germany in the 1930s and 40s has tainted the symbol with a singular, horrifying association in the minds of many people, particularly in Europe and North America. However, in many cultures and religions, including Hinduism, Buddhism and Jainism, the sign remains an important and sacred symbol of good fortune and wellbeing. Inspired by a panel discussion during the Parliament of the World Religions, which I attended virtually as part of MORSL鈥檚 cohort, I tried to trace the history of this simple sign and understand the relation between the symbol that many cultures have held a positive association with, and the emblem of the Nazi party which signifies a traumatic memory for so many.
The name swastika originates from the Sanskrit words su meaning 鈥済ood鈥� and asti meaning 鈥渢o exist鈥�. The origin of the word illustrates the positive meaning the symbol has held for many civilisations on the Indian subcontinent. Archaeological evidence suggests that the sign - featuring two lines crossing and bending either clockwise or anti-clockwise - was used across the entire continent of Eurasia as early as 7000 years ago. The symbol has been found on objects, including stone carvings, pottery and embroidery, spreading from the Bronze age in Eastern Europe, to Ancient Greece, up until its use among many religions and cultures today. The symbol has also been used by indigenous peoples in North America, as well as different groups on the African continent. Its use on textiles, household objects, currencies and architecture indicates that it was used freely and commonly over many centuries, and most often with a positive connotation.
After its use had decreased in the Christian cultural sphere, the symbol regained popularity in the West beginning in the 19th century with the colonisation of the Indian subcontinent and increased interest in 鈥渆xotic鈥� ancient cultures. By the early 20th century, under the adopted name swastika, the symbol had gained popularity as decoration on everyday items once again and even was used on commercial goods, for example by the company Coca Cola. As excavations in Eastern Europe uncovered its use in pre-historic times, nationalist groups and race-theorists became interested in the symbol as evidence of an ancient Germanic lineage. The fictional tale spun around the ancestral race of the Aryans made multiple anti-Semitic groups adopt the symbol, until Hitler and the Nazi party declared it as their emblem. After their rise to power, the Nazi flag, featuring a tilted version of the symbol in a white circle on red background, became the official flag of Nazi Germany and the symbol was both referred to as swastika and Hakenkreuz (鈥渉ooked cross鈥�). Its adoption by the Nazi state ended the popular use of the symbol in the West. Yet, unrelated to the horrific events taking place in central Europe during the 20th century, its use in East Asian religions and cultures continued.
Today, the reproduction of Nazi symbology, including the Hakenkreuz, has been banned in Germany and other European nations. While preparing to write this piece, the conversations I had with friends from around the world reflected the breadth of opinions presented at the Parliament of World Religions鈥� panel. One friend began to recount the lives of his Jewish grandparents who fled Europe during the Holocaust. I myself start to think of one great-grandfather whose plane was shot down by another wearing this symbol. Then, I think of another grandfather, who being only a child was made to salute the same symbol during his schooltime in Vienna. Other friends told me a different story, of foreigners pointing fingers at the statues they use for worship and of families hiding their sacred objects in their own households in Canada. Tracing the history of this symbol does not provide the answer to the conflicts that these stories and memories spark in our society. The word that was stressed again and again during the panel on this subject at the Parliament was 鈥渃ontext鈥�, and the importance of understanding the significance and use of the specific sign you see in front of you. Thinking of the title of this Radix issue, I want to add another word: compassion. Compassion for those traumatised by their own and their family鈥檚 history, and compassion for different backgrounds and the vast arrays of cultures we are surrounded by for whom this symbol is sacred.
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