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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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Sometimes All It Takes is a Shrug….

First published in Finest Hour 138, Spring 2008

“What a story! Think of all these people—decent, educated, the story of the past laid out before them—What to avoid—what to do etc.—patriotic, loyal, clean—trying their utmost—What a ghastly muddle they made of it! Unteachable from infancy to tomb—There is the first and main characteristic of mankind.”

—Churchill to Lord Beaverbrook, 21 May 1928.

bacKershawFateful Choices: Ten Decisions that Changed the World, 1940-1941, by Ian Kershaw. New York: Penguin, 600 pp., $35.

Ian Kershaw, whose two-volume biography of Hitler is highly acclaimed, has written a fascinating book on what Churchill might call the “ten climacterics” of World War II: Britain’s decision to fight on in May 1940; Mussolini’s decision to attack Greece; Stalin’s decision to trust Hitler; Japan’s decisions to expand southward and to go to war with the United States; Roosevelt’s decisions to help Britain and to wage undeclared war against Germany; Hitler’s decisions to attack Russia, to declare war on the USA and to commit genocide in Europe.

While many chapters cover familiar ground, Kershaw does so in a fresh way, pulling together key sources that reveal the reasoning (or lack of it) behind each decision—which, together, settled the outcome of the war, and the world we know today. The only fault of the book is a degree of academic overkill: the chapters average nearly fifty pages each, and Kershaw is so intent on producing all the evidence that he runs the risk of violating an old editorial adage: “a bore is someone who tells everything.”

The most gripping chapters are those that explain the inexplicable: Japan’s decision to go to war with the United States, a war both the Emperor and Prime Minister expected they would probably lose; and Hitler’s decision, four days after Pearl Harbor, to declare war on the United States: an enemy he could not strike at, but which could soon strike at him.

Kershaw offers a revisionist view of Hideki Tojo, the Army chief turned Prime Minister, often cast as a bloodthirsty aggressor. Though a hard-liner as head of the Army, once become Prime Minister in October 1941, Tojo wanted an accommodation as much as the Emperor (maybe because of the Emperor, whom he worshipped as divine).

By sending a high-level diplomat, Saburo Kurusu, to support Ambasssador Kichiasburo Nomura in Washington, Tojo and his foreign minister, Shigenori Togo, signalled a serious desire for  a settlement with the Americans. (After Japan’s Tripartite Pact with Germany and Italy in September 1940, Roosevelt had embargoed iron and scrap metal; with Japan’s invasion of Indo-China in July 1941, FDR froze Japanese assets in the U.S. and embargoed oil shipments—in those days the USA was a net oil exporter.)

I had no deep prejudices toward Cordell Hull until I read this book, but Kershaw paints Roosevelt’s Secretary of State the way Churchill allegedly painted John Foster Dulles: “He is the only bull I know who carries his china shop with him.”

As the clock ticked in late 1941, Hull frustrated negotiations at every turn. He rightly rejected the Japanese “Plan A,” amounting basically to letting Japan run amok in East Asia. Then he seemed to accept, but finally rejected, “Plan B,” which offered a pullback of Japanese forces from Indo-China and an agreement to vacate China “at an agreed future date.”

Nor was Roosevelt consistent: “While Hull and the State Department dampened prospects of an accommodation, the President himself appeared still open to the possiblity of one” (367). In his vacillating, don’t-tell-them-everything-you’re-thinking approach, he ran hot and cold on requested meetings with Japan’s foreign minister or Emperor. First FDR would hint that he wanted a “modus vivendi”; then he would play hardball, refusing to consider any terms by which he would normalize relations.

Finally Hull, without consulting either the military or unofficial allies like Britain (which might have had some useful warnings about piling up new enemies) replied with his “Ten Points,” including all previous demands and some new ones. In exchange for normalized relations Japan was required “to withdraw from China and Indo-China, renounce her extraterritorial rights and concessions dating back to the turn of the century, following the Boxer Rebellion, to recognize no other Chinese government but that of Chiang Kai-shek, and effectively to abrogate the Tripartite Pact” with Germany and Italy (369). Those were terms no Japanese government could accept. Worse, Hull was unclear as to whether he also demanded Japan’s exit from Manchuria, where it had established the puppet state of Manchukuo in 1931. In fact he did not—but he didn’t bother to make this clear.

Too late FDR realized, “this means war”; he did not know Pearl Harbor would be a target, but he must have known he had backed Japan into a corner. Call me a cynic and you’ll be right: but if George W. Bush and his Secretary of State had handled the Iranians like Roosevelt and Hull handled the Japanese, and ended up getting bombed for their pains, there would be a full-scale outcry and a Congressional investigation.

* * *

Kershaw also fascinates on Hitler’s decision to declare war on America four days after Pearl Harbor—one of the most inexplicable acts of the war. Carefully he reviews Hitler’s pronouncements and thoughts on the “American Union” from his earliest speeches in 1919. He concludes that the Western Hemisphere never seriously figured in Hitler’s plans (despite the now-famous forgery of a German map carving up South America)—except as some long-distant final confrontation which might have to be undertaken by a second generation of Nazis.

Hitler thought the “European armaments industry was greater than the American. He had experienced American soldiers in the First World War [and believed] the Germans were far superior” (405). But longer term, he was smart enough to realize that Germany was on borrowed time. He knew when he invaded Russia that he must win quickly, compel Stalin’s surrender, and then turn on Britain with his full forces and compel an armistice. By 1943, Hitler said, the mighty engine of American industry would be engaged on behalf of Britain and the Soviets, and any hope of Germany for European mastery would be ended. Thus the Fuehrer warned his trigger-happy naval chief, Admiral Raeder, to avoid provocations in the Atlantic, even after Roosevelt had occupied Iceland and expanded the Atlantic security zone far to the east.

Why then did Hitler declare war after Pearl Harbor? Logic did not play much of a part. The Tripartite Pact (Hitler’s stated reason) required Germany to declare war only if Japan had been attacked. The idea that he went to war to “fulfill a commitment” to Japan seems far-fetched. (When did Hitler honor any commitments?) So infuriated were the Americans over Pearl Harbor that absent a German declaration, Roosevelt might not have asked for (or if he asked might not have obtained) a U.S. declaration of war on Germany. Churchill’s rush visit to Washington after Pearl Harbor, remember, was predicated on his anxiety that America should adopt a policy of “Germany first.”

In declaring war, Hitler took little military advice other than that of the trigger-happy Raeder, and even the Navy chief admitted that in December 1941 not one U-boat was anywhere near the United States. Astonishment at the move was expressed even by sycophants like Goebbels, and many experienced soldiers privately (very privately) confessed they saw doom in Hitler’s act. “One ordinary soldier, confident that Germany would eventually prove victorious, nevertheless confided to his diary on the day of Hitler’s Reichstag speech, that it meant ‘war for our lifetime.’ ‘Poor parents,’ he added” (383).

Why did Hitler do it? The answer, it seems, was a “shrug.” Hitler knew that sooner or later Germany would have to confront the Americans. Why not now? That was all it amounted to: a shrug. It proved fatal.

Despite his disdain toward the enemy he had known in World War I, Kershaw notes, Hitler by the autumn 1941 had “contemplated for the first time the possibility of defeat,” saying “that if in the end the German people should not prove strong enough, then Germany deserved to go under and be destroyed by the stronger power.” (This reminds us of Hitler’s “scorched earth” orders to Speer as the Russians advanced on Berlin in 1945.) Kershaw sees Hitler’s war declaration as revealing: “Beneath the veneer, Hitler seems to have recognized that his chances of total victory had by now all but evaporated…It was a characteristic attempt to wrest back the initiative through a bold move. But for the first time it was a move doomed from the very outset to failure” (430).

7 December 1941. Japanese Caption: "Full view of Ford Island gasping under the attack of our Sea Eagles. This distant view of Ford Island immediately after the attack of our assault force shows the enemy capital ships lined up on the opposite side of the Island. in the foreground is the cruiser fleet, including the battleship UTAH. The enemy ships around the island have all become tempting targets for our Sea Eagles. In the upper right clearly appear the outlines of two of our Sea Eagles who are carrying out a daring low-level attack, reminiscent of the performance of the Gods." (Wikimedia Commons)

The attack on Pearl Harbor, 7 December 1941. The caption of this captured Japanese photograph reads: "Full view of Ford Island gasping under the attack of our Sea Eagles...reminiscent of the performance of the Gods." (Wikimedia Commons)

* * *

“What a story!” Japan is of two minds about going to war. The United States is also of two minds—or is she? Between Roosevelt and Hull, it is hard to tell. Emperor Hirohito and his entire cabinet believe that if they go to war, they will probably lose. So…to war they go!

Hitler through December 1941 practices uncharacteristic restraint in not provoking the Americans, knowing correctly that he cannot afford such a mighty enemy until the Russians are subdued. He knows if America gets involved, Germany will probably lose. So…to war he goes!

Fateful Choices is an revealing commentary on the occasional (one hopes) irrationality of high-level decisionmaking: a book which ought to be read by our leaders (present and future), before they do something stupid. Again. 

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Vonage: Don’t Let This Happen to You

August 4, 2009

In May 2009, we signed up with Vonage in order to escape the greedy clutches of our local telephone provider, Fair Point Communications, which charges outrageous prices for turning our phones on and off while we are away, and a large premium for “wide area” dialing anywhere outside one sliver of Carroll County, New Hampshire. [...]

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Dardanelles Then, Afghanistan Now

July 4, 2009

Writing in the Los Angeles Times (“Obama’s Strategic Blind Spot,” July 6th), Professor Andrew J. Bacevich considered the war in Afghanistan against Churchill’s experience in World War I. Churchill, he says, looked for alternatives to “sending our armies to chew barbed wire in Flanders,” just as we should be looking for alternatives to chewing dust [...]

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Songs Churchill Would Love: “Willie McBride”

June 27, 2009

Sir Martin Gilbert’s moving book, The Somme: Heroism and Horror in the First World War, ends with verses by the Scottish-Australian songwriter Eric Bogle, which carry an evergreen message to all generations, and capture what Churchill thought of modern war—which he tried so hard, before both World Wars, to avoid.
Sir Martin writes that in research [...]

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