Interview with Postdoctoral Visiting Fellow Sarah Frenking

For today’s interview, I have the pleasure of speaking with our Visiting Fellow, Dr. Sarah Frenking. Specializing in the intersections of crime, policing, gender, and sexuality, she brings a transnational perspective to the study of law enforcement, borders, and moral anxieties in modern history.

Before her fellowship at the GHI, Dr. Frenking was a lecturer and researcher in the Volkswagen Foundation’s Freigeist Project “The Other Global Germany” at the University of Erfurt, which examined  transnational criminality and deviant globalization. She is also affiliated with the Centre Marc Bloch in Berlin and the Leibniz Centre for Contemporary History in Potsdam.

Her first monograph, Zwischenfälle im Reichsland, explored border policing and nationalization processes at the Franco-German border before World War I. At the GHI, she is working on her latest project, “Moving through the Underworld: Mädchenhandel, Prostitution, and Deviant Mobilities, 1920–1960.” This research traces the history of Mädchenhandel (traffic in women) and its intersections with mobility and prostitution from the 1920s to the 1950s, covering concerns from the French occupation of the Rhineland through the National Socialist era, the Vichy regime, and postwar debates on decolonization and shifting moral anxieties.

Can you tell us a little about yourself and your interests?

I’m a historian of crime and policing, gender, and sexuality because I’m interested not only in the regulation and discourses of social order but also their practical implementation—and contestation. If you study police files, you can find interactions, negotiations, agency, and room for maneuver, but, of course, you also find power.

Through the lens of crime, you see everyday interactions, people who are often overlooked, and a specific moment: conflict with law enforcement. As Arlette Farge put it in her essay on archives, these encounters force individuals to talk about their lives. As historians, we benefit from this situation, we gain insight into people’s perspectives, explanations, and ways of making sense of the world.

I also think it’s important to examine how people were policed in terms of gender—particularly how the suspicion of prostitution was used to regulate and control female sexuality.

Tell us about your career and “The Other Global Germany” Project.

I obtained my PhD at the University of Göttingen under the supervision of Rebekka Habermas. She taught me to pay attention to actors and their logics, complicating simple narratives of linear historical processes.

For my postdoctoral research, I joined The Other Global Germany project led by Ned Richardson-Little at the University of Erfurt. This project explored how transnational crime and deviance shaped German society in the 20th century and how Germans participated in what we called “deviant globalization.” Our research spanned all forms of trafficking—arms, drugs, people—as well as the cross-border circulation of ideas and practices related to gender and sexuality, including queer communities.

A forthcoming edited volume, Deviant Global Germany, will explore different forms of deviance, morality, and licit and illicit circulations of goods, people, and ideas and examine international prohibition systems.

Additionally, I am an affiliated researcher at the Centre Marc Bloch in Berlin, where we engage in French-German interdisciplinary discussions on globalization, and at the Centre for Contemporary History Potsdam, where we analyze globalization in a divided world.

Your first book explored how border incidents shaped national identity. What parallels do you see between these historical dynamics and contemporary border debates?

My first book examines border-making practices, the agency of border crossers, and how media coverage of border incidents heightened national interest in the border. It focuses on the French-German border before World War I, analyzing the emergence of the border police, the experiences of different border crossers such as border residents, “Gypsies” or soldiers, and how newspapers shaped public perception of what the border looked like, how it was crossed and policed.

I wrote an article about the parallels in the taz, noting that these border control measures (even while not extensive) —just like the recently introduced ones—served as staged spectacles to draw public attention to the border: They remind people that borders exist, are controlled, and matter. Many are familiar with Benedict Anderson’s concept of the nation as an imagined community, but he also argued that nations are imagined as inherently limited—or, we might say, bordered. Police actions on the ground, public discourse and media reinforce this perception.

In the late 19th century, border control was highly debated. Constitutional law experts first defined territorial violations as problematic, and border control was not self-evident. When the newly established border police enforced passport controls between 1888 and 1891, many liberal newspapers criticized these measures as uncivilized and unmodern. Bourgeois travelers, unaccustomed to suspicion, were outraged and their complaints even reached the Reichstag.

These historical debates offer important context for contemporary border control discourses. Despite the European principle of freedom of movement, there is a renewed focus on national borders. Previously, only far-right extremists simulated border closures, for example at the border to the Czech Republic—now, these measures have become official policy.

What role do media and public discourse play in shaping historical perceptions of crime and morality?

Media discourse—whether newspapers, films, true crime reports, or investigative journalism—shapes public perceptions of crime and morality.

Media constructs specific figures: the seductive trafficker, the cunning pimp, the innocent white woman. Concerns about crime and deviance often become moral panics, where problems are exaggerated and scapegoats identified. A contemporary example is the discourse surrounding “criminal aliens” in the U.S., which portrays all migrants as gang members, terrorists, and traffickers.

At the same time, crime reporting serves an entertainment function—true crime journalism and sensational films about “white slavery” were immensely popular in the 1920s.

Media also shape perceptions of transnational crime. In the 1920s, new concepts of international crime emerged, fueled by modern transportation and addressed by organizations like the League of Nations and the International Criminal Police Commission (later Interpol). These narratives about a global underworld often carried antisemitic undertones.

Media portrayals also had real-life consequences. The Old Port neighborhood of Marseille was a frequent subject of sensationalist reporting. During World War II, when Vichy police raided the area for Jews and “international criminals,” and the Wehrmacht destroyed it in 1943, German propaganda celebrated the “purge of the underworld.”

Can you tell us about your project on Mädchenhandel?

This is my second book project, exploring the complex history of Mädchenhandel (traite des blanches) by looking at France and Germany in their transnational dimensions. I use the term as a historical source rather than a synonym for human trafficking in the sense of economic and/or sexual exploitation. Analysing sources on “Mädchenhandel” produced by the police, voluntary associations or international organisations but also newspaper articles and even movies led me to many different facets of the phenomenon: The concept extends beyond coercion or choice—therefore my research encompasses female labor migration, sex worker mobility, and state-regulated prostitution.

I investigate how fears of white women being abducted into prostitution fueled narratives about shadowy trafficking networks, international crime, and moral corruption. My research spans from the 1920s Rhineland occupation by French (colonial) troops and the establishment of military brothels to Nazi and Vichy-era policies, antisemitic propaganda, and state-sponsored prostitution for forced laborers.After 1945, renewed debates about trafficking in postwar Germany and the decolonization in North Africa reveal enduring anxieties about gender, mobility, and morality.

The history of “Mädchenhandel” reveals how central debates and practices about the control of mobility for prostitution in different political systems were in the middle of the 20^th century.

What inspired you to become a historian?

I initially studied German literature because I loved reading, language, and analyzing narratives, metaphors and fiction. However, I wanted a discipline that examined society—philosophy was too abstract for me.

History is about people—including those not traditionally considered history makers. It explores how forms of domination emerged and how people contributed or contested these forms, and how they experienced and interpretated change. Women’s history remains marginalized, often treated as particular rather than integral to historical analysis. Yet men, too, are gendered actors whose actions are shaped by social negotiation.

My literary background informs my historical work—who we include, how we write, and whose voices we prioritize matter deeply.

How do you like DC?

I love the weather, the food, the museums, and the fact that I can bike everywhere!