Rarely have the events of 1938 seemed so near. Proponents of taking preemptive action against Iraq have reached back to the days before World War II for a case history that has become the rhetorical analogy of choice in public debate. Here are a handful of the many examples:
"The decision to use force is most difficult when democratic societies are challenged to act preemptively. That is why the Continental powers waited until Hitler invaded Poland in 1939 and America waited until after September 11 to go after Osama bin Laden. Hitler's self-declared ambitions and military build-up, like bin Laden's demented agenda, were under constant scrutiny long before the acts of aggression to which a response became unavoidable. Both could have been stopped by a relatively modest well-timed preemption. . . .
"[An] action to remove Saddam could precipitate the very thing we are most anxious to prevent: his use of chemical or biological weapons. But the danger that springs from his capabilities will only grow as he expands his arsenal. A preemptive strike against Hitler at the time of Munich would have meant an immediate war, as opposed to the one that came later. Later was much worse."
-- Richard Perle, chairman of the Defense
Policy Board, the Daily Telegraph,
London, Aug. 9
"Think of the prelude to World War II. Think of all the countries that said, well, we don't have enough evidence. I mean, 'Mein Kampf' had been written. Hitler had indicated what he intended to do. Maybe he won't attack us. Maybe he won't do this or that. Well, there were millions of people dead because of the miscalculations. Had he been stopped early, as he might have been done at minimal cost, minimal cost in lives."
-- Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld, "Fox
Special Report with Brit Hume," Aug. 19
Today, Churchill might write how the European peoples through their unwisdom, carelessness and good nature -- and greed -- allowed the wicked Saddam Hussein to rearm and, as Hitler did, violate the Gulf War treaties.
-- Arnold Beichman, a research fellow at the Hoover Institution, in a Washington
Times column, Sept. 3
A familiar word is creeping back into the arguments over whether America, with whoever wants to go with us, should make a preemptive strike against Iraq. The word is "appeasement," as in "Munich." We could call it "appeasement," as in "Baghdad."
-- Suzanne Fields, columnist, in the
Washington Times, Sept. 5
"Had Hitler's regime been taken out in a timely fashion, the 51 million innocent people who lost their lives during the Second World War would have been able to finish their normal life cycles.
"Mr. Chairman, if we appease Saddam Hussein, we will stand humiliated before both humanity and history."
-- Rep. Tom Lantos (D-Calif.), during
House debate on Iraq, Oct. 2
"Appeasement does not work."
-- Rep. Dan Burton (R-Ind.), during
House debate, Oct. 8
For those intent on waging war against Iraq, the word "Munich" is shorthand for "appeasement." It has been brandished against those -- be they European governments, leading congressional Democrats, or cautious Republicans and State Department officials -- who are not fervently committed to a U.S.-led battle to overthrow the regime of Saddam Hussein. Yet those who talk of Munich -- site of France and Britain's attempt at pacifying Nazi Germany before World War II -- in the context of today do little justice either to the dilemma of those who negotiated with Adolf Hitler then or to those who must weigh the need for military action today. Rather than adding depth to our debate, this historical analogy has been deployed in a shallow way to intimidate political foes as much as the enemies who mean us actual harm. What is the real meaning of Munich, and what does it have to do with current questions of war and peace? Those who invoke Munich today refer to the conference held in that city in 1938. There the leaders of France and Great Britain, in the presence of Italian leader Benito Mussolini, accepted Hitler's demand for the cession to Germany of those areas of Czechoslovakia inhabited predominantly by people of German cultural background. The French and British leaders told the government of Czechoslovakia that if it did not agree to this, it would lose these areas in boundary adjustments even if the Allies were victorious in a general European war. They also promised to guarantee the integrity of the remainder of the Czechoslovak state if it went along. The Czechoslovak government agreed to give up the areas Hitler wanted, but Germany then broke the treaty signed at Munich by seizing the rest of Czechoslovakia. By acquiring more territory, and the industrial and agricultural resources that went with it, the Nazi state was in a stronger position when it attacked Poland in 1939. Only then did Britain and France, in accord with their obligations to Poland, declare war on Germany. The argument commonly advanced today is that the Western powers would have been wiser to go to war in 1938, and that many lives would have been saved were it not for the weakness of then-British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain, who gave in to Hitler at Munich. This is the origin of the rhetoric that has become so popular with proponents of a strike against Iraq, who frequently invoke "Munich," "Chamberlain" and "appeasement" in their public statements (see accompanying box). There are three problems with this supposedly useful lesson from history. First, the military balance in 1938 was not necessarily more favorable for Britain and France than it was in 1939. In 1938, both countries were in the early stages of rearmament. This was particularly important for the British. It is one reason that Winston Churchill, then a Conservative member of parliament, privately told the government of Czechoslovakia in the summer of 1938 that, if he were prime minister, he would follow the same policy as his fellow Conservative, Chamberlain. When the Battle of Britain began in the summer of 1940, just two months after Churchill had become prime minister, Churchill could not have simply bought the radar stations or the Spitfire and Hurricane fighters he needed at the nearest five-and-dime; luckily, he already had them in his arsenal. In 1938, however, these weapons were just beginning to come off the assembly lines, having been ordered by Chamberlain over the unanimous opposition of the Labour Party. It is too often forgotten that in Britain's last election before World War II, that of 1935, Chamberlain, then chancellor of the exchequer, was portrayed and attacked by the opposition as a warmonger. Second, war against Germany in 1938 would have been a lonely battle. The governments of Canada, Australia and the Union of South Africa (as it was then called) had informed Britain that they would not join a war against Germany over Czechoslovakia. What would have been the attitude of the American government and public toward what appeared to be an entirely European conflict? An unwillingness to get involved, even though Czechoslovakia was created by an agreement signed by Czechs and Slovaks in May 1918 in the U.S. city of Pittsburgh, just months before the end of World War I. The Americans had helped negotiate the agreement, but had abandoned their creation, leaving its protection to the powers most weakened by World War I, Britain and France. At the same time, U.S. legislation hindered the Western allies' ability to go to war to enforce the treaty by barring them (or any belligerents) from buying arms or borrowing money from the United States. They would be on their own. Third, democracies need public support before embarking on war. In 1938, the memory of World War I, fought only 20 years earlier, dominated all thoughts about another war. Britain, with a third the population of the United States, had suffered more casualties in World War I than the United States would in both World Wars. France, with a population not far from Britain's, had suffered more casualties than the United States has in all of its wars up until now, starting with the Revolution and including both sides in the Civil War. Against that background, calling upon people to bear the human and material costs of another great war would require a recognition by the overwhelming majority of the public that this was indeed necessary and that everything possible had been done to avert a second such ordeal. Would the British public have rallied to Churchill's call for continued resistance to Germany after France had collapsed in 1939 without support from Canada, Australia, the Union of South Africa and New Zealand, without the prospect of substantial assistance from the United States, and without the certainty in their own minds that all that could be done had been done to avert war? In a tribute written upon Chamberlain's death in 1940, Churchill made this last point himself: "Herr Hitler protests with frantic words and gestures that he has only desired peace. What do these ravings and outpourings count before the silence of Neville Chamberlain's tomb?" Churchill said. "Long, hard, and hazardous years lie before us, but at least we entered upon them united and with clean hearts." It is worth noting the lesson Hitler drew from Munich. As we now know, he had always intended to destroy Czechoslovakia as a whole, but had used the pretext of the presence of the more than 3 million people of German background in that state to isolate it diplomatically. After reaching agreement with France and Britain, Hitler immediately regretted recalling the order to initiate hostilities, and was later certain that it would have been better for Germany to have gone to war in 1938 rather than in 1939. Determined never to be cheated out of war again, he conducted his diplomacy in 1939 so that no one could divert Germany from battle another time. As he explained to his military leaders in August 1939, his only worry was that some Schweinehund, or pig dog, would make things difficult by proposing a compromise. On the surface, there are some similarities between the present and the choices the Western powers faced before World War II. Like Hitler, Iraqi leader Saddam Hussein has attacked two neighbors, in the latter's case, Iran and Kuwait. But in the first of Baghdad's wars, the United States assisted Iraq in a variety of ways. In the second, it led an international coalition against him and his forces. Since that second war ended in an armistice rather than the destruction of his regime, and since the United States later abandoned those it had called upon to rise up against the Baghdad government, Hussein remains in control of Iraq, or at least most of it. The failure of the United Nations to enforce the terms of the armistice agreement, in the face of endless defiance and deception by Iraq's dictator, leaves open the question of how the United States should respond. That question is complicated and made more portentous by the signs of Iraq's determined efforts to acquire weapons of mass destruction. But the balance of power today is vastly different from that at the time of Munich; the United States and its allies possess great military power and Iraq relatively little. Just as the memory of World War I greatly influenced the publics in Britain and France in 1938 in their attitudes toward the possibility of another war, many Americans today are affected by the memory of Vietnam and by their self-perception of the United States as a country that goes to war only when there appear to be no alternatives. Under these circumstances, it will be essential for the Bush administration to make the need for war, the sacrifices in lives and money it will surely entail, and the unforeseeable consequences that could emerge, so clear to the public that a united and determined people will support such an initiative. It is unlikely that summoning up dubious analogies will be very helpful in this regard, nor will any implications that Bush is playing Churchill while others act out Chamberlain. The situation is far too different from that of 1938, however those events are read, to make for useful guidance today. Given the common interpretation of Munich, invoking it is the equivalent of calling someone a coward. And neither the Europeans who sought to avoid slaughter then, nor those who worry about it now, deserve that sort of label. Gerhard Weinberg, Professor of History Emeritus at the University of North Carolina, is author of "The Foreign Policy of Hitler's Germany" (Humanity Books) and "A World at Arms: A Global History of World War II" (Cambridge University Press).
For those intent on waging war against Iraq, the word "Munich" is shorthand for "appeasement." It has been brandished against those -- be they European governments, leading congressional Democrats, or cautious Republicans and State Department officials -- who are not fervently committed to a U.S.-led battle to overthrow the regime of Saddam Hussein.
Yet those who talk of Munich -- site of France and Britain's attempt at pacifying Nazi Germany before World War II -- in the context of today do little justice either to the dilemma of those who negotiated with Adolf Hitler then or to those who must weigh the need for military action today. Rather than adding depth to our debate, this historical analogy has been deployed in a shallow way to intimidate political foes as much as the enemies who mean us actual harm.
What is the real meaning of Munich, and what does it have to do with current questions of war and peace?
Those who invoke Munich today refer to the conference held in that city in 1938. There the leaders of France and Great Britain, in the presence of Italian leader Benito Mussolini, accepted Hitler's demand for the cession to Germany of those areas of Czechoslovakia inhabited predominantly by people of German cultural background.
The French and British leaders told the government of Czechoslovakia that if it did not agree to this, it would lose these areas in boundary adjustments even if the Allies were victorious in a general European war. They also promised to guarantee the integrity of the remainder of the Czechoslovak state if it went along. The Czechoslovak government agreed to give up the areas Hitler wanted, but Germany then broke the treaty signed at Munich by seizing the rest of Czechoslovakia. By acquiring more territory, and the industrial and agricultural resources that went with it, the Nazi state was in a stronger position when it attacked Poland in 1939. Only then did Britain and France, in accord with their obligations to Poland, declare war on Germany.
The argument commonly advanced today is that the Western powers would have been wiser to go to war in 1938, and that many lives would have been saved were it not for the weakness of then-British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain, who gave in to Hitler at Munich. This is the origin of the rhetoric that has become so popular with proponents of a strike against Iraq, who frequently invoke "Munich," "Chamberlain" and "appeasement" in their public statements (see accompanying box).
There are three problems with this supposedly useful lesson from history.
First, the military balance in 1938 was not necessarily more favorable for Britain and France than it was in 1939. In 1938, both countries were in the early stages of rearmament. This was particularly important for the British. It is one reason that Winston Churchill, then a Conservative member of parliament, privately told the government of Czechoslovakia in the summer of 1938 that, if he were prime minister, he would follow the same policy as his fellow Conservative, Chamberlain. When the Battle of Britain began in the summer of 1940, just two months after Churchill had become prime minister, Churchill could not have simply bought the radar stations or the Spitfire and Hurricane fighters he needed at the nearest five-and-dime; luckily, he already had them in his arsenal. In 1938, however, these weapons were just beginning to come off the assembly lines, having been ordered by Chamberlain over the unanimous opposition of the Labour Party. It is too often forgotten that in Britain's last election before World War II, that of 1935, Chamberlain, then chancellor of the exchequer, was portrayed and attacked by the opposition as a warmonger.
Second, war against Germany in 1938 would have been a lonely battle. The governments of Canada, Australia and the Union of South Africa (as it was then called) had informed Britain that they would not join a war against Germany over Czechoslovakia. What would have been the attitude of the American government and public toward what appeared to be an entirely European conflict? An unwillingness to get involved, even though Czechoslovakia was created by an agreement signed by Czechs and Slovaks in May 1918 in the U.S. city of Pittsburgh, just months before the end of World War I. The Americans had helped negotiate the agreement, but had abandoned their creation, leaving its protection to the powers most weakened by World War I, Britain and France. At the same time, U.S. legislation hindered the Western allies' ability to go to war to enforce the treaty by barring them (or any belligerents) from buying arms or borrowing money from the United States. They would be on their own.
Third, democracies need public support before embarking on war. In 1938, the memory of World War I, fought only 20 years earlier, dominated all thoughts about another war. Britain, with a third the population of the United States, had suffered more casualties in World War I than the United States would in both World Wars. France, with a population not far from Britain's, had suffered more casualties than the United States has in all of its wars up until now, starting with the Revolution and including both sides in the Civil War. Against that background, calling upon people to bear the human and material costs of another great war would require a recognition by the overwhelming majority of the public that this was indeed necessary and that everything possible had been done to avert a second such ordeal.
Would the British public have rallied to Churchill's call for continued resistance to Germany after France had collapsed in 1939 without support from Canada, Australia, the Union of South Africa and New Zealand, without the prospect of substantial assistance from the United States, and without the certainty in their own minds that all that could be done had been done to avert war? In a tribute written upon Chamberlain's death in 1940, Churchill made this last point himself: "Herr Hitler protests with frantic words and gestures that he has only desired peace. What do these ravings and outpourings count before the silence of Neville Chamberlain's tomb?" Churchill said. "Long, hard, and hazardous years lie before us, but at least we entered upon them united and with clean hearts."
It is worth noting the lesson Hitler drew from Munich. As we now know, he had always intended to destroy Czechoslovakia as a whole, but had used the pretext of the presence of the more than 3 million people of German background in that state to isolate it diplomatically. After reaching agreement with France and Britain, Hitler immediately regretted recalling the order to initiate hostilities, and was later certain that it would have been better for Germany to have gone to war in 1938 rather than in 1939. Determined never to be cheated out of war again, he conducted his diplomacy in 1939 so that no one could divert Germany from battle another time. As he explained to his military leaders in August 1939, his only worry was that some Schweinehund, or pig dog, would make things difficult by proposing a compromise.
On the surface, there are some similarities between the present and the choices the Western powers faced before World War II. Like Hitler, Iraqi leader Saddam Hussein has attacked two neighbors, in the latter's case, Iran and Kuwait. But in the first of Baghdad's wars, the United States assisted Iraq in a variety of ways. In the second, it led an international coalition against him and his forces. Since that second war ended in an armistice rather than the destruction of his regime, and since the United States later abandoned those it had called upon to rise up against the Baghdad government, Hussein remains in control of Iraq, or at least most of it. The failure of the United Nations to enforce the terms of the armistice agreement, in the face of endless defiance and deception by Iraq's dictator, leaves open the question of how the United States should respond. That question is complicated and made more portentous by the signs of Iraq's determined efforts to acquire weapons of mass destruction. But the balance of power today is vastly different from that at the time of Munich; the United States and its allies possess great military power and Iraq relatively little.
Just as the memory of World War I greatly influenced the publics in Britain and France in 1938 in their attitudes toward the possibility of another war, many Americans today are affected by the memory of Vietnam and by their self-perception of the United States as a country that goes to war only when there appear to be no alternatives. Under these circumstances, it will be essential for the Bush administration to make the need for war, the sacrifices in lives and money it will surely entail, and the unforeseeable consequences that could emerge, so clear to the public that a united and determined people will support such an initiative.
It is unlikely that summoning up dubious analogies will be very helpful in this regard, nor will any implications that Bush is playing Churchill while others act out Chamberlain. The situation is far too different from that of 1938, however those events are read, to make for useful guidance today. Given the common interpretation of Munich, invoking it is the equivalent of calling someone a coward. And neither the Europeans who sought to avoid slaughter then, nor those who worry about it now, deserve that sort of label.
Gerhard Weinberg, Professor of History Emeritus at the University of North Carolina, is author of "The Foreign Policy of Hitler's Germany" (Humanity Books) and "A World at Arms: A Global History of World War II" (Cambridge University Press).
Commentary
