From the monthly archives:

September 2009

I have spent a fruit­less few hours try­ing to find a quote by Churchill about bathing. I inter­pret his remark, “why stand when you can sit down?” as sug­gest­ing that he pre­ferred baths to show­ers, but recall that when he vis­ited Rus­sia, he said a bath there was “like lying in one’s own dirt.” Did he say that? The rea­son for my inter­est is that I want to give up baths for a month and would like to enlist the “help” of some­one like WSC. —P.P., UK

Illustrierter1941-25a

Churchill's habits were well known to the Nazis, who lam­pooned him in this June 1941 car­toon in ILLUSTRIERTER BEOBACHTER. WSC is say­ing: "Take this down: In my cur­rent sit­u­a­tion, I fear Ger­man U-boats even less than before." (From Ran­dall Bytwerk, "Churchill in Nazi Car­toon Pro­pa­ganda," FINEST HOUR 143.)

Sorry, but I can­not find any­thing like “lying in one’s own dirt” in my dig­i­tal scans of the canon. While this is not dis­pos­i­tive, I doubt he ever changed his mind about baths and would not approve of your plan. I trust you are not giv­ing up showers!

Churchill was a famous bather—twice a day when he had time—although those Russ­ian tubs were pretty filthy. He had his clothes fumi­gated after return­ing from Yalta, cer­tain that they had picked up unwanted guests….

Your ques­tion puts me in mind of two quo­ta­tions in Churchill by Him­self, nei­ther of which sup­port your pro­posal. From the chap­ter on Amer­ica, p 115:

Eng­land and Amer­ica are divided by a great ocean of salt water, but united by an eter­nal bath­tub of soap and water.

—Press Club, New York City, 8 Decem­ber 1900

Hugh Gaitskell, Min­is­ter of Fuel and Power in the post­war Labour Gov­ern­ment, was urg­ing energy con­ser­va­tion when he said: “Per­son­ally, I have never had a great many baths myself, and I can assure those who are in the habit of hav­ing a great many that it does not make a great dif­fer­ence to their health if they have less.” This was too much for Churchill, the renowned bather:

When Min­is­ters of the Crown speak like this on behalf of His Majesty’s Gov­ern­ment, the Prime Min­is­ter and his friends have no need to won­der why they are get­ting increas­ingly into bad odour. I had even asked myself, when med­i­tat­ing upon these points whether you, Mr. Speaker, would admit the word “lousy” as a Par­lia­men­tary expres­sion in refer­ring to the Admin­is­tra­tion, pro­vided, of course, it was not intended in a con­temp­tu­ous sense but purely as one of fac­tual narration.

—House of Com­mons, 28 Octo­ber 1947



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Pat Buchanan leads off for the Affirmative (C-Span)

Pat Buchanan leads for the Affir­ma­tive (C-Span)

The Great Debate: “Resolved, that Win­ston Churchill was more a lia­bil­ity than an asset to the free world.” Spon­sored by Intel­li­gence Squared, view­able on C-Span.

LONDON, SEPT. 3RD— It was avidly awaited but fell flat. Tabling a truly ridicu­lous motion, Intel­li­gence Squared (“the only insti­tu­tion in town aside from Par­lia­ment to pro­vide a forum for debate on the cru­cial issues of the day”) com­bined with C-Span to bring us this, er, spec­ta­cle. It would have been more inter­est­ing to debate whether Hitler or Churchill was the bet­ter painter.

I will spare you the tempt­ing wise­cracks about Intel­li­gence Squared. The debate was not a “cru­cial issue of the day,” and so orga­nized as to obfus­cate the argu­ment by forc­ing pan­elists to respond to dis­parate ques­tions hurled in suc­ces­sion from the audi­ence. It started off inter­est­ingly, but soon tapered into a long palimpsest of clichés, accu­sa­tions, denials and counter-charges.

Argu­ing the affir­ma­tive, and by far the most lively and effec­tive, was the engag­ing Patrick J. Buchanan (Churchill, Hitler and the Unnec­es­sary War, reviewed in Finest Hour 139: 13). His team included Nor­man Stone (Bil­lkent Uni­ver­sity, Turkey) and a super­cil­ious Cam­bridge don named Nigel Knight, whose Churchill: The Great­est Briton Unmasked (Finest Hour 141: 53) con­cludes that it was Hitler who made Churchill a his­tor­i­cal fig­ure. Pat Buchanan was the best they had going. A great debater, he knows how to liven things up. But he could have done bet­ter by enlist­ing Pro­fes­sor John Charm­ley, a witty and able critic, and, like him­self, a gentleman.

Oppos­ing the motion was a team led by Andrew Roberts (Mas­ters and Com­man­ders, and numer­ous other sound his­to­ries). Roberts is a razor sharp advo­cate, but the nature of the pro­gram pre­vented him from get­ting in all his best ripostes. He stuck too closely to his pre­pared remarks and—except for a few pre­emp­tive strikes at what he knew was coming—not until the Q&A was he able to chop away at the for­est of misinformation.

Also effec­tive was Anthony Beevor (D-Day: The Bat­tle for Nor­mandy), sup­ported by  Richard Overy (Uni­ver­sity of Exeter), who usu­ally just repeated Roberts’ points while sniff­ing at Knight’s. Stone seemed to want to talk about grow­ing up in post­war Britain, and what a bad pic­ture of him appeared in the papers.

What it came down to was a pow­er­ful attack by Buchanan (“We have come not to praise Churchill but to bury him”), who rolled out all the shib­bo­leths and out-of- con­text quotes from his book, from Churchill lead­ing the war party in 1914 to bomb­ing Dres­den in 1945. Pat labeled the failed attempt to occupy Nor­way in 1940 the “worst British deba­cle,” but later fas­tened a sim­i­lar title on the British guar­an­tee to Poland in 1939, omit­ting that it was Neville Cham­ber­lain who did that. Roberts called him, but Buchanan replied that, well, Churchill was “urg­ing Cham­ber­lain on,” for­get­ting that the last per­son Cham­ber­lain was lis­ten­ing to in March 1939 was Churchill. Nor­way as Deba­cle is some­what out­ranked by Sin­ga­pore, but not to worry, Knight trot­ted out Sin­ga­pore later. He was right that Churchill guessed wrong on Singapore—but so did the entire British mil­i­tary establishment.

Buchanan’s most orig­i­nal idea was that it wasn’t nec­es­sary to guar­an­tee Poland (which couldn’t be guar­an­teed, after all). Britain and France merely had to “draw a line down the mid­dle of Europe,” to the west of which they would throw all their armed might against any Ger­man aggression.

Say what? Debate where it should have been if you like—but Churchill’s whole pur­pose in life from 1933 onward was to get some­body, some­where, to draw that line, and nobody ever did. I think the Rhineland is to the west of Pat’s line, and we all know how the French and Stan­ley Bald­win responded to Hitler over that piece of real estate  (Finest Hour 141: 16).

Of the Pol­ish guar­an­tee, Churchill said basi­cally what Pat Buchanan said: “Here was deci­sion at last, taken at the worst pos­si­ble moment and on the least sat­is­fac­tory ground, which must surely lead to the slaugh­ter of tens of mil­lions of peo­ple.” (Alas one of the quotes Pat didn’t men­tion. Later Pat told me that Churchill only took that view in ret­ro­spect, in 1948. Prove it.)

Nigel Knight took the attack to the 1920s when, he said Churchill not only foisted the Gold Stan­dard on Britain, impov­er­ish­ing her for the war ahead, but dis­armed in the face of Hitler—whom Knight (but nobody else) divines was a seri­ous threat circa 1928, when the Nazis won 2.6% of the vote. It was of course the Bank of Eng­land that wanted the Gold Stan­dard, and not with­out rea­son, though this is an argu­ment far removed from the subject.

Knight landed one good punch by declaring—in sup­port of invad­ing France in 1943—that they used more land­ing craft in the inva­sion of Italy than in Nor­mandy. If that’s true, it’s an inter­est­ing point, but in his zeal Knight for­gets that in the final analy­sis, D-Day was post­poned through a series of deci­sions by Roo­sevelt, Churchill and their mil­i­tary advisers—and it was the wis­est of choices.

Anthony Beevor gamely replied, and the third bat­ters on each team fol­lowed suit, but it soon devel­oped into an exchange of “the real fact is that…” ver­sus “that is an appalling trav­esty of the truth.” Halfway through, I wanted to pull the plug on my monitor.

Mod­er­a­tor Joan Bakewell helped make the time drag by com­plain­ing about the sound and the light, and insist­ing on tak­ing ques­tions in bunches rather than one at a time. This nat­u­rally dis­tracted the debaters and got into all sorts of mud­dles, dropped threads and mis­taken rec­ol­lec­tions of the questions. The most inter­est­ing fac­tor, Bakewell con­cluded, was the dif­fer­ence between the two audi­ence votes, taken before and after the debate:

Vote taken………Before       After

For the Motion       118              181

Against                     1,167       1,194

Don’t know              422              34

Oho, Bakewell chor­tled: The pro-Churchill side added twenty-seven votes, but the anti-Churchill side added sixty-three! Her impli­ca­tion was that Buchanan and Co. had made seri­ous inroads.

Not really. The star­tling change was in the totals. Add them up and you’ll find that 1707 peo­ple were there to vote before the debate, but only 1409 after­ward. The rest appar­ently left early. Justifiably.

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