In recent years, scholars have shared fascinating works tied to forestry in Imperial Germany. Jeffrey K. Wilson's volume The German Forest (2012), for example, explored connections between the forest and the Heimat homeland movement; he also highlighted the forest's role as a national symbol. Others have discussed forestry in the German empire, such as Thaddeus Sunseri in his monograph Wielding the Ax (2009). The volume reviewed here falls more in line with the latter, as it too focuses on Tanzania. In a dissertation turned monograph, and maybe best translated as “German Forest” in Africa: Colonial Conflicts around Renewable Resources, Tanzania 1892–1916, Lars Kreye adds to ongoing discussions. In line with widely described tensions between German imperial fantasies and realities, Kreye sets out to meet two overarching objectives. First, to utilize the example of German East Africa to showcase a multiplicity of perspectives and controversies regarding forestry history; second, to find out how “bio-physical factors have shaped and limited” the formation process of this particular colonial state (15). In a study numbering more than 450 pages (plus appendix), Kreye ultimately questions scholars who evaluate colonial forestry based on normative principles.
The author organizes his volume in three parts. He begins with an introduction outlining his methodology and framework before introducing historiographical discussions and his own interventions. Apart from Sunseri's work on the same topic, the author emphasizes the scholarship of Ulrike Kirchberger on the creation of a nature-protection bureaucracy (Naturschutzbehörde) in German East Africa; he also seamlessly introduces his audience to broader debates within environmental and colonial history. Kreye's own analysis is mostly grounded in colonial records accessible in Germany and Tanzania, newspaper articles, and photographs – leaving readers wondering about his thoughts regarding the potential but also the challenges when it comes to the employment of oral histories and traditions.
The second part of this monograph explores discourses tied to forestry as those apply to German East Africa. The audience finds out about Tanzania's soil, climate, and flora (less so fauna). Kreye then introduces different understandings, practices, and visions tied to forestry. Here he skillfully weaves African voices into the discussion, noting, for example, how some East African societies saw forests as a “home of supernatural powers” (93). The imperial utilization of forests gives readers insight into larger concepts and frameworks employed by the colonial state. This section then outlines the overall trajectory of German colonial forestry: from initial justifications for the protection of forests stemming from economic factors to conservation and even preservation later on. The author's emphasis on the repeated employment of a supposed wood scarcity (Holznot) to push forestry into action underscores his point that scholars need to critically question historical records.
Part three, by far the bulk of the book, centers on the development of colonial forestry in German East Africa. Kreye begins with the formation of colonial dominance in the early years, a period defined by indirect rule (1884–1891); he then traces the origins of direct forestry (1891–1898) and full-time forestry (1902/03-1906/07) to underscore organizational structures and the German development of laws and regulations. His discussion on the limitations of controlled burns, among other topics, gives readers a good sense of contentious issues between German officials and the local population. Elsewhere, he explores frictions between decisionmakers on the periphery and in the metropole, and even among different individuals within the same administrative body. In this sense, he convincingly highlights an array of views within what is often described as merely the colonial government or German forestry.
In a section focusing on the age of reforms (1906/07-1908/09), as well as the subsequent years of German colonial rule until the loss of the colony following World War I, Kreye unpacks German assessment efforts. He adds much to the historical record by digging deep into colonial correspondence around numerous conflicts. Readers find out about disagreements between local forestry experts and officials in Dar es Salaam, or between governors and decisionmakers in Berlin. Kreye mentions the efforts of missionaries to sell wood, schemes employed by different protagonists to circumvent regulations, and the overarching benefits for European settlers and businessmen baked into any colonial rule. On the flip side, he reminds his audience about the “structural violence” and widespread racism against colonial subjects (361), or the complicated place of intermediaries and local leaders at times stuck between colonials and local groups. Representatives of the colonial state were, of course, not all-powerful, a point Kreye easily sustains given his research.
Readers interested in a deep dive into forestry within German East Africa will find lots to work with in this study. Grounded in numerous colonial documents and publications and contextualized along with an assortment of scholarly works, the book is able to add new layers and complexities to ongoing discussions. Kreye's own research and findings certainly give him reasons to challenge the work of other authors – most notably when questioning the reliance on colonial self-descriptions and embellishments. While he is thus able to accomplish what he set out do to, the author himself points to the potential of moving beyond what reads primarily like an institutional history of forestry in German East Africa: a publication making more transnational, global, and comparative connections while employing oral histories. Maybe such an analysis could also reach beyond human actors.
