Posts tagged as:

Mussolini

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 a mod­ern U.S. Pres­i­dent 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. 


{ 0 comments }