"Anthony Eden"

V. Trukhanousky |

PROGRESS PUBLISHERS

V. Trukhanousky

Translated from the Russian by Ruth English

B. I. Tpyxanosernii

AHTOHH HEH

English translation © Progress Publishers 1984

Printed in the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics

Contents

From the Author . :

Chapter I. THE REGINNING OF THE ROAD . WP os

Chapter Il. THE FIRST STAGE IN THE POLICY OF “APPEASEMENT” Ma steele eeepc SM ae

Chapter III]. FOREIGN SECRETARY. IN A GOVERNMENT

OF “APPEASERS”

Chapter TV. THI WAR YEARS .

Chapter V. OPPOSITION: THE FIRST POST-WAR DECADE

Chapter VI. FAILURE OF A POLICY, FAILURE OF A

CAREER

Epilogue

From the Author

Before devoting time to one theme or another, every author

has to settle an important question to his own satisfaction:

for what purpose should one take this theme, and for whom

is it needed? This was so in my case also. A political bi-

ography of Anthony Eden attracted me, as an author, for

a number of reasons.

Firstly, Eden played one of the most important roles in

carrying out British foreign policy from the thirties to the

fifties of the present century. These decades were filled with

events such as the policy of “appeasement” of aggressors, the

beginning of the Second World War, the activity of the anti-

Hitler coalition, the development of the post-war contest

between socialism and imperialism, et cetera. A study of

Eden makes possible a better understanding of the course

of these events. His life is to some degree a part of the diplo-

matic and political history of Britain.

Secondly, the history of international relations in those

years has been and remains an object of sharp ideological

conflict. The stream of research works, publicistic works and

memoirs, devoted to the history of those years and published

in the bourgeois world, has not yet run dry.

Eden himself published three large volumes of Memoirs,

and numerous articles by way of vindicating his own role

and British foreign policy. To answer this convincingly, it

is essential to consider the operations of British diplomacy

and the acts of Eden himself from the thirties to the fifties in

the light of all that has been achieved by scientific historical

research both in the Soviet Union and abroad.

_ Thirdly, in historical literature and in memoirs one finds

it asserted that Eden should not be lumped together with

other British supporters of “appeasement”, because his views

on foreign policy were, it is alleged, different from theirs;

he is supposed to have held liberal views and acted as a pro-

tagonist of collective security. Along with this goes the

assertion that he was “favourably inclined” towards the Soviet

Union. It therefore seems reasonable to take a look at the

facts which show Eden’s true position on these issues also.

Fourthly, the experience of Soviet historians and of their

colleagues abroad shows that the reading public welcomes

books in which the history of various countries and classes

is illuminated via the lives of statesmen. They make histor-

ical narrative livelier, more particularised and easier to

take in.

In view of these considerations, the author now offers for

the reader’s judgement and verdict the first—so far as he is

aware—Marxist book on Anthony Eden.

Chapter I

THE BEGINNING OF THE ROAD

It is considered to be universally recognised that Anthony

Eden was fortune’s favourite. Luck was with him for practi-

cally the whole of a Jong life. Eden was born into an aristo-

cratic family that had important connections in British

ruling circles. Nature endowed him with faultless good

looks, and with mental abilities which may not have been

truly outstanding but were quite sufficient to enable him to

win success in the spheres of activity he chose to make his

own.

Anthony Eden was born on June 12, 1897, at the family

seat—Windlestone Hall, in one of the northern counties of

England, Durham. The family chronicles show that Edens

had lived in that area since the late 14th century. His earli-

est known ancestor died in 1413. That ancestor owned a re-

spectable piece of land, which through purchase and advan-

tageous marriages grew, in the course of several generations,

to be a major landed estate. During the dark and turbulent

Middle Ages the Edens constantly had to defend their posses-

sions, sword in hand, from greedy and violent neighbours

and from the warlike Scots, who from time to time descended

from the Cheviots and the Highlands.

During the English bourgeois revolution of the 17th cen-

tury the Edens were faithful servants of the Stuarts. Robert

Eden was a colonel in Charles I’s army at the age of 27, and

at his commission raised an infantry regiment of a thousand

men. But Charles was defeated, and under Cromwell the

young colonel lost his lands. But Robert Eden’s services

to the Stuart dynasty were rewarded after the Restoration,

when his former estates were returned to him, and his eldest

son received the title of baron from Charles II.

The line of barons Eden soon extended their activities

beyond the northern counties and began to play a prominent

part on the English political scene centrally. The children

of the third baron were particularly successful. One of his

sons represented Durham in three Parliaments running.

Another became Governor of Maryland, a British colony in

North America. While holding this post he, too, received the

title of baron, and by virtue of his marriage to Caroline

Calvert inherited the title of a Count of the Holy Roman

Empire (later on all these three titles—the original Eden

barony, that of Sir Eden of Maryland, and Count of the

Holy Roman Empire—came to be vested in one single

member of the family, owing to various twists of genealogy).

Yet another son had a successful career in diplomacy, repre-

senting his country at various European courts, and becom-

ing Lord Henley...

The most striking personality out of all the Edens was

Lord Auckland. He studied law, and economics, which in

those days was not held to be anything of interest to an aristo-

crat, and he founded the National Bank of Ireland. This

energetic Lord was close to Pitt, then Prime Minister, who

sent him to France to conclude a commercial treaty, and

later despatched him on a special mission to Madrid. After

Spain, America; and after that Lord Auckland was his coun-

try’s Ambassador to Holland. Finally he became a member of

the government, as Chancellor of the Exchequer. The friend-

ship between Pitt and Lord Auckland soon ran into trouble,

for reasons far removed from politics. The young l’rime

Minister fell in love with Auckland’s daughter, but she

married someone else. The alienation from one another of

the two statesmen, formerly so close, brought Auckland into

the camp of Pitt’s opponents. And under them too he gained

an important post, that of President of the Board of Trade.

His children also made careers for themselves. One of them,

Morton, became famous as a diplomat, representing Britain

in Denmark, Germany, Austria-Hungary and Spain. His

brother John became a bishop. Another son, George, who

supported his father when he broke with Pilt and the Tories,

became eventually a leading figure in the opposition party,

the Whigs, and in governments formed by them he was in

turn President of the Board of Trade, First Lord of the

Admiralty, and Governor-General of India, and was given

an earldom for his services.

Throughout the 19th century, Britain’s “Golden Age”, the

now extensive Eden family played an important part in pub-

lic life. Its members were Ministers of the Crown, Ambassa-

dors to the major European powers, high-ranking colonial

officials, bishops of the established church. The family had

long been accustomed to positions of power, and like other

aristocratic families looked on running the country’s affairs

as their prerogative.

In the 19th century the fifth baron built an impressive

house, capacious and beautiful by the standards of the day,

which became the hereditary home of the Eden family. The

house was surrounded by an extensive park and stood on the

side of a hill, facing east, and thus enjoying ample fresh

air from the North Sea. It was in this house, named Windle-

stone Hall, that half a century later Anthony Eden was born.

Llis father was Sir William Eden, seventh baron and inheri-

tor of the estates, who had married Sybil Grey.

This marriage enlarged the family’s aristocratic connec-

tions very significantly. The Greys too were and had been

holders of high office. Sybil’s great-grandfather was the

first Earl Grey, brother of the Prime Minister who had got

the Reform Bill made law in 1832. In later years, just before

the First World War, a Grey was Foreign Secretary. Lady

Eden’s father was Governor of Bengal and after that of

Jamaica.

Sic William Eden was the very antithesis of his energetic

forebears. He was not interested in politics, lived on his

estate the whole time, running it, and shooting, and was said

to have painted quite good watercolours. Anthony’s father

was known to be given to furious outbursts and to be utterly

intolerant with other people, including the members of his

own family. A newspaper rustling as someone read it in

the same room as the head of the family could send him into

a fury. He could not stand merry children’s voices, children

playing. Why was he like this? There may possibly have

been some serious mental abnormality. But another expla-

nation is possible. Irritability over trifles is often the result

of general dissatisfaction with life. Significantly, one of

Anthony Eden’s biographers, William Rees-Mogg, describes

his father as a man “always shaking his fist at God for not

Crealing a better world”.

_ Anthony's mother was considered one of the most beauti-

ful women in England in her time. Contemporaries recalled

that when Lady Eden appeared at balls, many of those pres-

ent would climb up on the gilt chairs to get a better view

of her. She liked travelling and had an agreeable temper, as

noted by those who knew her. The mother was naturally

closer to the children than the father, but did not lave very

much to do with them. In those days the children of aristo-

cratic families were brought up by governesses, and their

parents rarely saw them.

Anthony was the fourth child in the family. His sister

Marjorie was born ten years before him and his brothers

John and Timothy eight and four years earlier respectively.

The youngest, Nicholas, was born three years after Anthony.

The children grew up surrounded by every luxury. The family

was at that time on the crest of the wave of success that had

attended it for many decades.

Yet the childhood of the young Edens was not particularly

happy. Their father was in a state of constant warfare with

himself and with his family, which he terrorised. Sir Wil-

liam’s fits of rage and his abrupt manner of speaking were pro-

foundly traumatic for his children. Overcome with fright,

they adopted all possible means of avoiding meetings with

their father, which were rare enough occurrences anyway.

Sir William, as his son Timothy later wrote in a book about

him, “could notendure, forlong, even the presence of his

own children... He has always fled from them in the holi-

days.”

Anthony seems to have had a better relationship with his

father than did the other children. The position of third son

was a sort of protection to him, for Sir William concentrated

his attention on the elder sons. Furthermore, Anthony’s

interests and his father’s to some extent coincided: both liked

painting, shooting and gardening. Watercolours painted by

the father hung in his son’s room all his life. Anthony al-

ways spoke well of his father. From him he inherited not only

the love of painting, but the abrupt temperament as well. It

was a known fact that the younger Eden too reacted to stress

and fatigue with explosions of irritation. But he had more

self-control. His relations with his father had a considerable

psychological effect upon Anthony Eden. He acquired the

habit, which remained with him for ever, of reckoning with

and accommodating himself to another person’s strong will,

which caused him in later life to seek not direct confrontation

and trial of strength, but compromise. Faced with strength,

he would retreat.

These qualities began to develop even in Anthony’s

earliest years. His mother later recalled: “He was always the

quiet one. They say that famous men are often the most

mischievous as boys, but Anthony was never that. He never

gave me a moment’s trouble.”

The mother was satisfied with her son. But the son was

very probably not so satisfied with her attitude to him. One

of Eden’s biographers, Randolph Churchill, writes that his

mother “never extended the same love and sympathy towards

Anthony as she did towards her first-born John, and Nicholas,

the Benjamin of the family. Friends of the family are con-

vinced that Anthony, though he concealed it, felt injured in

his self-esteem, and that this injury was the motive force of

the quest for self-sufficiency which has dominated his whole

life, both private and public...”

In childhood Anthony was in the constant care of Miss

Broomhead, his governess, to whom he remained lastingly

attached. She taught her charge German and French, and did

it with great skill. She gave him a love for languages which

stood him in good stead in later life.

When Anthony was eight years old he was sent to a pre-

paratory school in South Kensington, and a year later to

Sandroyd, a private school in Surrey. This was an orthodox

establishment preparing pupils for entrance to the famous

Eton. Sandroyd was a school attended by children from the

highest English social circles and by the heirs of some

European ruling houses. The future King Peter of Yugoslavia

went there, for instance, some years later, and Winston

Churchill’s son Randolph, and other sprigs from families of

similar standing.

Anthony spent four years ab Sandroyd. He did not stand

out in any way among his peers. True, he won prizes for

French and for history, but was clearly not too happy with

mathematics. He had to stay down for a year for that sub-

ject. This blow to the vanity had its effect. Anthony set

about working hard, and soon caught up in maths. His gen-

eral progress was fairly good, but not more than that.

Before he left Sandroyd, his English master reported:

“tle is rather young for his years still and wants more deter-

mination to go his own way.” Has a “soft heart... Personally

lam more concerned to see him more vigorous out of doors.”

Such was Anthony before entering Eton, the school which

all his forebears for two hundred years had attended.

Kton was England’s main source of supply of statesmen

and top administrators. It opened up the road for its pupils

to the ancient universities of Oxford and Cambridge. Eton

SUill plays the same part today, though to a more limited

extent.

Anthony Eden at Eton was a model pupil, a well-behaved

pupil, but not a striking pupil. His peers remembered him as

“always very well dressed and good-looking”; one of his mas-

ters, W. Hope-Jones, admitted later that he always thought

of Eden during his schooldays as having “better manners

than brains”.

The wishy-washy impression left by Eden at Eton was due

not only to his abilities being far from brilliant, but also

to the stiff and careful restraint he showed in his behaviour.

He had evolved this manner while still at home, when he

had always to be careful of his father’s temper.

The young Eden realised that his performance at school

was pretty mediocre. It upset him, he was unhappy about it

and even wrote of it to his father. He got the following lines

in reply: “Be not downcast, oh my soul! Hope thou in the

Lord! You are not a waster, thank God. You may yet be as

great and good a man as “Your affectionate Daddie.”

On June 4 old pupils of Eton go back to meet together

within the school walls. But Eden never took part in these

gatherings. He had left no mark, good or bad, at Eton, and

Eton in turn had never touched his heart.

Straight from school, as soon as he reached the age of

eighteen, Eden volunteered for front-line service in the

First World War. A few weeks before he signed up, Sir Wil-

liam had died. His eldest brother John had been killed in ac-

tion in France in 1914. Soon afterwards Nicholas, who was in

the Navy, and had been much closer to Anthony than the

other brothers had, was also killed. The war took its toll

from the Eden family. The members of that family volun-

teercd for the armed forces. In the first years of the war there

was no conscription in Britain. But it was the tradition that

in time of war the aristocracy should pay their country back

for their privileged position, in service.

Anthony’s military service began in September 1915, in

an infantry battalion recruited from the country population

of Anthony’s native county, Durham. The army command

held that men from the same area would fight better togeth-

er. The men of the battalion were physically strong, well-

disciplined soldiers, reasonably well educated, and their

commander was a well-to-do local landowner, Lord of

Feversham. First on his estate, and then at Aldershot, the

biggest military training centre in England, the recruits

underwent intensive preparation.

In May 1916 Eden’s battalion was sent to France, and on

the 15th of September it took part in an offensive and suffered

heavy losses. The officers tried to withdraw the remnants of

the battalion from the front-line, but in doing so brought it

under heavy German machine-gun fire. The battalion com-

mander and many officers and men were killed; only a few

were unhurt. Such was Eden’s baptism of lire.

The young lieutenant lacked confidence to begin with.

Shy by nature, he looked younger than his years and was

embarrassed when he had to give orders. But war steeled

his character, and Anthony found maturity.

Having attained manhood at the front, Eden proved him-

self a calm, efficient and energetic officer. His relations

with the men were good, and with his fellow-officers they

were even better. At the age of nineteen Eden was appointed

Adjutant to the battalion—the youngest Adjutant in the

British Army. In 1917, while leading a trench raid, he dis-

tinguished himself by rescuing his sergeant, who had been

badly wounded, and bringing him safely back through the

wire, for which he was awarded the Military Cross. Subsequen-

ily he was promoted to the rank of Captain and transferred

to Brigade Headquarters, and ended the war on the staff of

the First Army. But demobilisation was slow. For another

year Eden stayed in the army, taking stock of the war mate-

rials that had survived the military operations, and only in

1919 was he able to exchange his captain’s uniform for

civilian dress.

Army service had a beneficial effect on the formation of

Eden’s personality. Battle steeled his character, developed

his confidence in his own powers and abilities, bringing out

skills of organisation and leadership that few had previous-

ly suspected.

After demobilisation—Eden was then 22—the question

arose of what he was to do. His elder brother Timothy had

now inherited the title and all his father’s estates and was

the eighth Baron Eden.

Anthony was not attracted to the army, he dreamed of

a career in diplomacy. His mother advised him to go to

Oxford, as the Edens had done time out of mind. ; Hard

though it was to go back to school, a proper university train-

Ing was) essential if he was to enter on a diplomatic career.

Eden went to Oxford, to Christ Church, the college tra-

ditionally attended by his family, but his choice was unusual

—Oriental languages. Hestudied Persian and Arabic. A knowl-

edge of the East promised good opportunities for advance-

ment in the diplomatic service.

Much can change in a man under the influence of environ-

ment, conditions and circumstances, but as a rule the foun-

dation remains the same. The war had changed his character

considerably, but in his years at the University, as at

Eton, Anthony remained reserved and apart; he had few

friends.

At the University, the Oxford Union—a student society —

is a very popular institution. It is common for many who

dream of a political career, or who are just interested in poli-

tics, to try out their strength there and develop their powers

of oratory. Prominent politicians have come up through the

Union. But Eden held back from it. Nor did he take part in

the activities of the other student societies then functioning

in Oxford.

Ilis interests lay elsewhere. On November 20, 1920, certain

students received a short typewritten letter, signed by Eden

and two of his friends, announcing the founding of “the

Uffizi Society’—named after the famous picture gallery in

Florence—and inviting them to join. The letter explained

that the intention was to invite prominent painters and art

critics to speak to the Society’s members. The Uffizi Society,

with a membership of 35, was a body which only the “chosen

few” were invited to join. At its meetings papers were usual-

ly read on the work of painters or sculptors. Anthony contrib-

uted one on the post-Impressionist Paul Cezanne. His biog-

raphers are unanimous in remarking on the depth and _ orig-

inality of his treatment of Cézanne’s work, showing a refined

artistic sensibility on his part.

Eden was also an active member of the dramatic socie-

ty, carrying on his childhood interest in amateur theatricals,

which used to take place in the holidays at Windlestone and

at Lord of Feversham’s neighbouring seat.

More serious activities for Eden were those at the Univer-

sity’s Asiatic Society. Anthony’s friends recall his partici-

pation in discussions of Middle Eastern and Far Eastern

problems. From his mother Eden inherited a love of travel.

During his time at Oxford he and three friends made an

extended trip through Europe and Asia Minor.

While at Oxford Eden deliberately developed his love

for systematic, hard study. He regularly worked not less

than eight! hours a day—a great deal more than other stu-

dents devoted to their studies. He worked hard during vaca-

tions too. All this produced results: in 1922 Eden graduated

with first-class honours.

When he had entered the University Eden had been aiming

at a diplomatic career, but by the time he completed his

course his plans changed: he decided to “enter politics’. This

too was in the family tradition. His forebears had included

eminent parliamentarians, Ministers and even Prime Min-

isters. The party he would espouse was not in question. An

aristocrat by birth, bound to the Conservatives by strong

links of class and ideology, and coming from a family ruled

by Conservative traditions, he always considered that to pro-

mote the aims of the Conservative Party was the work to

which his life should be devoted.

Objective circumstances made it easier for Eden to achieve

his purpose. After the war the ranks of those who might be

considered rivals in a political career were very thin. Who

knows, perhaps this was the circumstance which made

Eden give up the idea of quiet diplomatic service and choose

the less secure but more tempting political field.

At that time the country was in ferment. The war had

speeded up the processes taking place in economic, political

and ideological life. In Russia there had taken place a so-

cialist revolution. The wave of revolution had surged as

far as Central Europe. The breath of revolution was felt in

Britain too. The country’s ruling circles were feverishly

trying to take in the new conditions, to understand where

the world was heading, and to find reliable ways of retain-

ing their own privileged position under the new order of

things.

The British bourgeoisie, greatly experienced and far-sight-

ed, had realised that after the war class struggle would

flare up with fresh strength. So measures had been taken in

advance to damp down future action by the working people.

The Cabinet was headed at the time by Lloyd George, a Lib-

eral. A “man from the people”, aclever and skilful politician,

he served the ruling classes more wisely and effectively than

their direct representatives could have done. His government

employed the old, traditional English method—they tried

to buy off the working class. Considerable economic conces-

sions—true, they were only short-lived—were made to the

working people. At the beginning of 1918 an electoral reform

was carried through which increased the number of voters

from 8 to 21 million. That meant that the broad masses of

working people now had the right to elect Members of

Parliament. In the same year the educational system was

reformed in such a way as to make it easier for the children

of workers to get an education.

Immediately after the Armistice was concluded on Novem-

ber 11, 1918, practically all the trades unions in Britain put

forward their demands. The demands were, by and large, for

a shorter working day, increased wages, and the restoration

of the trade union rights curtailed during the war. Refusal

to meet these demands meant strikes. The government's posi-

tion was complicated by outbreaks of mutiny in the armed

forces, going as far as the setting up of Soviets. The govern-

ment had wished to retain a mass army to counter revolution

outside, especially in Soviet Russia, and the workers’

movement within the country, but found themselves obliged

to demobilise it hastily.

With the mass workers’ movement on the upsurge, and

under the influence of the victorious October Revolution in

Russia, revolutionary elements within Britain were activat-

ed. The Communist Party of Great Britain was formed in

1920.

Towards the end of 1920 the government and the entrepre-

neurs were gradually going over to the offensive. In October

the government got a bill through Parliament giving the

government special powers to counter working-class action.

This was an open departure from the boasted “British democ-

racy”, from the bourgeois-democratic freedoms that had been

the country’s pride. In the spring of 1921, when conflict

in the coal industry came to a head again, the leaders of the

rail and other transport unions betrayed the miners, refusing

them the support they had promised. This enabled the gov-

ernment and the mine-owners to defeat the miners. After

the miners other sections of the working class also suffered

defeat. The bourgeoisie was back on top, but only for the

time being. The near future was pregnant with even more

massive class struggles.

War, and revolution in Russia, had stimulated the nation-

al liberation movement in Britain’s colonial empire. The

time when the sun would finally set on British colonial rule

was still a long way off, but grim warnings made themselves

increasingly felt.

The oldest colony of all, and the nearest to London—

lreland—rose in the spring of 1916. The British Government

gave the Irish a “Bloody Sunday”, and suppressed the rising

savagely. After the end of the World War the freedom-loving

lrish proclaimed their country a republic, and began to set

up new organs of power. The British responded with force.

Military operations went on for three years. British regular

troops and auxiliary units committed the vilest atrocities

in the attempt to crush Irish resistance.

Yet Britain, a great imperialist power, with a popula-

tion ten times larger than that of lreland (and as regards

material resources the discrepancy was even greater), was

unable to break the Irish people’s fight for freedom. In De-

cember 1924 an agreement was signed by which Britain rec-

ognised the existence of an Irish state.

London watched in alarm the growing signs of discontent

in India—the greatest pearl in the British Imperial crown.

And in Egypt, a British protectorate, a mighty popular up-

rising against British rule broke out in 1919. It was suppressed

by force, but two years later the Egyptians rose in revolt

again. In 1922 Britain was obliged to give up its protector-

ate over Egypt. The movement for national liberation was de-

veloping and deepening throughout the British Empire, eat-

ing busily away at British influence in the post-war world.

The balance of forces in the imperialist world which pre-

vailed in late 1918 and early 1919 had been formally recog-

nised at the Paris Peace Conference. At the start of the

conference Britain had already achieved many of her war

aims. Germany’s economic might, her power to compete

in world markets, had been significantly reduced, and the

threat of the German Navy eliminated. German colonial

possessions had been occupied by British or Allied forces.

Britain occupied Turkish territories which were important

both strategically and as sources of raw materials. Britain’s

main task at the Paris Conference was therefore to retain,

and get sanction in the peace treaty for such retention,

all that had been seized and won by force of arms, against

any pretensions on the part of her war-time allies. In many

respects Britain achieved this.

The principal treaty produced by the Paris Conference—

the Treaty of Versailles—also enshrined the Covenant of the

League of Nations; this was an integral part of the

Treaty. Conflict was acute around the question of what this

international organisation, the League of Nations, should

be. The result was a compromise, basically not far removed

from the British conception. A League was created which

did not have at its disposal the necessary real rights and

resources to enable it to keep up the international peace.

The leading part in this organisation was played by Britain

and France. And inasmuch as the political clash between

Britain and France over leadership in the affairs of post-war

2~01222 47

Europe had by the mid-1920s been resolved in favour of

Britain, Britain’s voice in the League of Nations too counted

for more than that of France.

The situation was rather different as regards Soviet Rus-

sia. Britain had adopted a sharply hostile attitude. Along

with France, Japan, the United States and a number of other

countries, Britain organised armed intervention against

Soviet Russia. In grim struggle the workers and peasants of

Russia crushed the enemies from without and those within

the country. In doing so they got support from the working

people of Britain and of other countries. In Britain the move-

ment in support of the October Revolution became known as

the Hands Off Russia movement.

The ruling circles of Britain were obliged to go so far as

to sign, on March 16, 1921, a trade agreement with Soviet

Russia which meant de facto recognition by Britain of the

Soviet Government. This was a major success for Soviet for-

eign policy, providing a break in the anti-Soviet front of

imperialism.

The failure of British policy in the fight against socialist

revolution in Russia was not the only reverse suffered by

Britain in the international field. In the early post-war

years serious debacles in the Middle East also attended

her. Britain attempted to maintain her sway over Afghani-

stan by military means, but without success. The treaty

signed with Afghanistan in August 1919 embodied renounce-

ment by Britain of her control over that country’s internal

and external policies. The same end awaited British attempts

to force upon Iran a treaty which would have made it a Brit-

ish protectorate. The use of troops, bribery and provocation

all failed of their ends. The establishment of British control

over Iran did not come to pass.

Events in Turkey took a turn which caused complications

for Britain. Turkey had been defeated in the war, and in

August 1920 the victor nations forced upon it the Treaty of

Sévres, which dismembered the country and made it wholly

dependent upon the imperialists of Britain, France and

Italy. But this was to prove an illusory success. The rise of

the Turkish movement for national liberation swept aside

the Treaty of Sevres. The British Government, using as

a cat’s paw Greece, which was dependent on Britain, started

a war against the Turkish people, and suffered a resounding

defeat. Eventually Britain kept, in one form or another,

a number of territories in the Middle East which had previ-

ously belonged to Turkey, butshe did not succeed in carrying

through all the plans as regards Turkey.

Radical changes in Britain’s economic position and in

the balance of class forces within the country and outside it,

an international scene of greatly increased complexity, led

to major changes in the political system through which the

British bourgeoisie governed the country. During the World

War Britain found herself in such a difficult position that

consolidation of all the forces available to the ruling classes

was Called for. This took the form of a coalition government,

including representatives of both the Conservative and the

Liberal parties. Labour representatives were also brought

into the coalition. The latter lasted until late 1922.

The Conservatives and the Liberals represented all levels

of the bourgeoisie and of the aristocracy, the two having

become more and more intertwined. For many decades these

two parties ruled the country, taking it in turn to form gov-

ernments according tothe results of the elections. This dis-

position of political forces came into being in the 19th cen-

tury and reflected Britain’s state of affairs within the

country and in the world at large. But by the early 20th

century conditions had changed, and the state of the parties

with them. The Liberals expressed the interests of the com-

mercial and industrial bourgeoisie, and had considerable

influence among the petty bourgeoisie and a part of the

working class. The Conservatives were the party of monopoly

capital and the most reactionary political force in the coun-

try. The shift towards reaction among the British bourgeoisie

prior to and during the war, and the sharpening of class con-

tradictions, led to a growthin Conservative influence and

a weakening of the position of the Liberals. At the same time,

as a result of increased political consciousness among the

working class, disenchantment with the activities of the

Liberals and a greater desire to have its own political party

grew among its ranks. Such a party came into being under

the name of the Labour Party.

The Labour Party is not a revolutionary party. It is re-

formist, it never set itself the task—nor does it today—to

carry through a socialist revolution and replace the bour-

8eois order by socialism.

The leading part in the Labour Party was from the start

taken by right-wing elements, which accepted the rules of

the game laid down for them. When leaders of the Labour

Party were admitted to office in 1924 they proved their

2s 49

reliability in practice, and in the British two-party system

Labour took over the place of the Liberals, who in conse-

quence of the polarisation of forcesin the class struggle finally

faded away into the status of a third party. Gradually the

Labour Party became part of the political system of the

British bourgeois state.

From time immemorial the ruling circles of Britain have

paid great attention to hoodwinking the oppressed classes.

Hypocrisy and the striking of righteous attitudes have be-

come an indispensable element in British political life.

In the period we are dealing with, the twenties of the

20th century, these features of British political life were

especially noticeable. The hypocrisy and the righteous atti-

tude are there in the utterances of many statesmen and poli-

ticians, and this is what makes it so difficult to establish,

from sources of the period, the true motives of the actions

of government, parties and individuals.

By late 1922 the ruling circles of Britain had reached the

conviction, undoubtedly mistaken, that the worst was past

or them, both at home and abroad, and that there was there-

fore no point in preserving coalition any longer. In October

1922 the Conservatives took the decision to abandon coopera-

tion with the Liberals. The result of this decision was the

formation of a one-party Conservative Government, and the

announcement of a General Election. This was the situation

of which Anthony Eden took advantage to launch his politi- |

cal career.

His first efforts were unsuccessful (the same is true for

many beginners in political life in Britain). Immediately

after graduating from Oxford Anthony made use of the fami-

ly connections to get himself accepted as a parliamentary

candidate by the local Conservative organisation in his na-

tive Durham, for the constituency of Spennymoor. It was hard-

ly a hopeful prospect. There were three candidates contesting

the seat—Conservative, Liberal and Labour. Since the vast

majority of the voters were miners from the local pits, they

naturally gave their votes to the Labour candidate. Edencame

second, with 7,576 votes, andthe Liberal took third place.

For a twenty-five-year-old Conservative making his debut

in a working-class constituency, it was by no means such

a bad result. Eden had got a respectable number of votes

and saved his deposit.

His defeat was neither crushing nor shameful. Spennymoor

preferred Labour candidates to Conservative in other years

peside 1922; for decades, right up to the end of Eden's politi-

cal career, no Conservative was ever successful there.

Eden and his patrons at once set about looking for a con-

stituency with more promise. Soon chance took a hand in

helping them to find one. The Conservative member for War-

wick and Leamington was raised to the Lords, and thereby

his seat in the Commons became vacant. A by-election

was fixed.

The local organisation of the Conservative Party had to

settle the question of who was to be their replacement can-

didate. There was no lack of competition for the place. On

October 18, 1923, the local Conservative executive invited

Anthony Eden to appear before a meeting in Leamington in

connection with his possible candidature. The young man

could as yet point to no services performed for the Conserva-

tives. True, he had carried through a pretty fair election

campaign under difficult conditions the previous year, but

he had not been successful. His only advantages were good

birth and an excellent personal appearance: a tall and ele-

gant figure, regular features, fine eyes under thick brows,

a noble forehead and a thick head of hair. Eden always knew

how to dress well, in good taste. It used to be said that no

one in England could tie a tie as beautifully as Anthony.

His manner was one of smooth calm. This is something al-

ways held to be important.

At the Conservative executive meeting someone ventured

the remark that “Eden was still very young”. Eden undertook

to mend this worrying fault in the course of time, and mod-

estly admitted (modesty always goes down well with any

audience) that unfortunately he had not as yet that advan-

tage brought by long years of work—political experience. He

promised to make up for this by boundless enthusiasm and

loyalty to the Conservative cause.

The 1923 election campaign in Eden’s constituency was

a lengthy one. Polling day in the by-election had not yet

arrived when a General Election was announced. This was

ae to grave political events with which Eden had nothing

0 do.

For many decades Britain’s economic policy'had been one

of laissez-faire, that is, freedom of trade and"non-interference

by government with the play of economic forces. During the

period of British economic superiority this principle worked

well. But Britain’s competitors did not adhere to it. They

engaged in fierce competition for external markets, while

protecting their internal markets by massive tariff barriers.

Arguments went on for long years in Britain regarding the

need to abandon free trade and go over to protection. Final-

ly, in 1923 the then young Conservative Prime Minister

Stanley Baldwin decided,that the time had come for a change

of economic policy. Baldwin judged it fitting to “go to |

the country” on the question of introducing protection, and

dissolved Parliament—in which the Conservatives had a ma-

jority—declaring a General Election.

In this election Eden was lucky. Two circumstances boost-

ed his popularity: his own marriage, and the fact that one

of his opponents at the polls was an eccentric female rela-

tive of his.

Anthony’s chosen bride was Beatrice Beckett, daughter of

a banker. The wedding took place on November 5, 1923, at

the height of the electioncampaign, at the fashionable Church

of St. Margaret's, Westminster. The young couple spent

their honeymoon in Sussex, and it set a record for brevity—

two days only. Immediately afterwards Anthony plunged

back into the election campaign. This marriage of a young

candidate for Parliament, combined with his very imposing

good looks, enlisted the sympathy of many electors, par-

ticularly the women.

Eden's opponent on behalf of the Labour Party was the

Countess of Warwick. A countess as representative of the

British workers’ party looked very unusual in those days.

What was this—an aristocratic lady’s whim, or an expression

of a real interest in social problems on her part? It is hard to

say. The piquancy of the situation was heightened by the

fact that Anthony was related, twice over, to the “left-wing”

countess. She was mother-in-law to hissister, who had married

Lord Brooke, heirto the earldom of Warwick; and Eden’s

wife Beatrice was also related to the countess. So the Parlia-

mentary election looked rather like a family affair of the

Edens.

This election brought him victory. He got 16,337 votes,

the Liberal 11,134, and the Labour countess 4,015. Eden’s

triumph looked especially impressive since in the country as

a whole the Conservatives had been defeated. So at twenty-

six years of age Anthony Eden entered Parliament, represent-

ing Warwick and Leamington. Llis position in this constitu-

ency became so well established that he represented it in

Parliament for an unbroken 33 years.

The 1923 elections showed that the voters did not approve

the Conservative leader Stanley Baldwin's proposal to bring

in protection: fears that it would lead to a rise in food prices

played their part. The government was obliged to resign.

The question of who was to succeed Baldwin was a vexed one.

Even after defeat at the polls the Conservatives still had

more MPs than any other party, but as a defeated party they

could not form a government. The party nearest to them in

numbers of seats gained was the Labour Party with 191.

The Liberals had won only 159 seats. Traditionally, in

such a situation, the party with the second greatest number

of seats forms the government. This time the Labour Party

was in this position. In ruling circles there was no certain-

ty as to how the Labour leaders would behave when in power.

Might they not start introducing a truly socialist programme,

under pressure from their rank and file if not from their own

convictions? In the end it was decided that the experiment

should be tried, and Labour given the chance to form a govern-

ment; if they did not behave themselves “sensibly”, they

could always be got rid of by a simple vote in Parliament,

for Conservatives and Liberals together had a majority

over Labour.

Such was the situation when Anthony Eden first entered

under the Gothic arches of the House of Commons in West-

minster. This was theold building of Parliament, as it exist-

ed up to its destruction by Nazi bombs in 1942.

The formation of the first Labour Government in British

history was entrusted to Ramsay MacDonald, the party’s

leader. Born into the family of a Scottish schoolteacher,

MacDonald had left Scotland in his youth and migrated to

London, where he joined the Labour movement, or as they

like to say in Britain, “the Socialist” movement. MacDonald

was an imposing figure, with polished manners and a clear

voice. But according to the testimony of people who knew

him well, all that was a front behind which lurked a petty

intriguer, a man of boundless conceit and vanity. In his

heart he despised and feared the British workers, and he was

as consistently hostile to the Soviet Union and to communism

as were the Conservatives.

Leadership of the Labour Party is gained, as a rule, by

Outright careerists who are well aware that one can only make

a career within a bourgeois state by serving that state.

They are a product of the British political system. Over the

centuries an attitude has been evolved in Britain that treats

Political activity as a species of business. For British bour-

geois politicians, political activity is not a way of serving

the people, or society, or an idea, it is a means of making

a career which if successful can bring power and money. In

this respect the right-wing Labour leaders are no different

from any other bourgeois politicians.

Basically MacDonald was a man of this type. He not only

took on the premiership, he assumed the duties of Foreign

Secretary as well. The other members of his government also

came from the right wing of the Labour Party. Among them

were some entirely bourgeois figures, whom he included in

his Cabinet to give it a greater air of respectability'in bour-

geois eyes.

None the less, the formation of the first Labour Govern-

ment in British history was an important event in the life

of the country. From that time onward, the Labour Party

became one of the parties alternating in office, while the Lib-

eral Party for practical purposes departed from the stage,

yielding up its place to Labour. This new disposition of

forces had to be taken into account by the Conservatives too,

one of whose representatives in the House of Commons was

Anthony Eden. The young Conservative was beginning his

political life at an interesting moment.

In February 1924 he made aspeechin the House. The maid-

en speech of a newly elected MP is a sort of baptism. It is

awaited with interest. How will the debutant politician make

out? Very, very rarely an extremely talented youngster will

amaze the House with his speech and leave a lasting impres-

sion. But as a rule such speeches are very ordinary, and they

are applauded purely from courtesy. Anthony Eden’s maiden

speech in Parliament was strictly of the latter sort. He real-

ised it himself, and later on recalled his"debut’ with dissatis-

faction.

Eden spoke in a debate arising out of a resolution moved

by the Conservatives on the money to be allocated to the Air

Force. The resolution affirmed: “Great Britain must maintain

a Home Defence Air Force of sufficient strength to give

adequate protection against air attack by the strongest

air force within striking distance of her shores.” This was

in 1924. No one as yet was capable of threatening Britain,

and the word “defence” as used here is an example of the

usual hypocrisy, which makes the reading of English politi-

cal materials so difficult. In actual fact, under the conditions

then prevailing the Conservative motion was a call to

engage in an armaments race,

Eden, naturally, supported his party’s position. True, he

found himself in an awkward corner when someone asked

from what quarter an air attack might be expected, and had

to admit that he did not know, but went on to insist that

“the Government will, as a matter of insurance, protect this

country from the danger of attacks from the air”. Then he

“raised” his approach to the level of general military strate-

gy, and declared that “attack is the best possible form of

defence”.

All Eden’s biographers agree that his maiden speech in the

House of Commons}was pale and unimpressive, but some of

them consider that in the last resort this was all to the good:

he roused no envy or ill-will among his colleagues. Randolph

Churchill’s judgement is the most severe. “In later life,”

he writes, “Eden’s speeches were often to be ghost-written

for him ... his maidenspeech ... he composed himself.” “The

careful choice of cliché,” continues his sharp-tongued biogra-

pher, “the avoidance of anything even bordering on the

controversial and of any original thought or phrase, seem to

have been noted by those who drafted his speeches fifteen and

twenty years later. And the ghosts who drafted his speeches

and communiqués when he was in a position to procure their

services are entitled to commendation on the authentic way

in which with his co-operation they conformed to the pattern

set in this maiden speech.”

All his life Anthony Eden tried to win friends, or at least

well-wishers, and kept it a strict rule not to make enemies.

For this reason, when he prepared a speech he made it

a priority not to offend anyone. His biographer Rees-Mogg

notes: “When he is discussing the script of one of his speeches

he will go through it with immense care, and if there is

a phrase which seems too sharp or too cutting he will remove

it. This can make the speeches rather dull, but it avoids

giving offence.”

Eden made his debut at a time when a wave of pacifism,

a kind of reaction against the First World War, was sweeping

Many countries including Britain. Condemnation of war as

an amoral act was widespread, feelings that disarmament

was desirable were growing stronger, and faithin the League

of Nations as an instrument of peace-making was on the

Increase. Eden’s maiden speech struck a discordant note

here. This was hardly a chance accident. Eden was in step

with his party, and the Conservative imperialists not only

wanted but officially demanded new armaments. In this

respect Eden’s maiden speech helps us to understand better

the nature of his activities in the years when he was a Min-

ister for League of Nations Affairs.

Eden’s subsequent speeches in the House show no marked

line. He seems to be searching, feeling for the sphere of

activity on which he should concentrate. In 1924 he spoke on

the peace treaty with Turkey. This was a successful speech,

for the speaker was talking of things he knew well: Eden was

even then an expert on Middle Eastern affairs. But he also

takes part in debates on housing, on allowances to the fami-

lies of men serving in the armed forces, and he even concerns

himself with the memorial erected to Queen Victoria's hus-

band Prince Albert. Eden did not like the Albert Memorial,

in fact he called it “a national disaster”.

The young Member visited his constituency frequently, and

spoke there. For voters need to be cultivated, lest they feel

that their Member has got above himself and is neglecting

those who sent him to Parliament. Only the most firmly estab-

lished politicians, with solid, indestructible reputations,

can dare to leave their electors unvisited for long periods.

Eden was a long way from that position as yet.

Before long Eden’s relations with hiselectors had to under-

go are-testing. The first Labour Government lasted less than

a year: in October 1924 there was another General Election.

The right-wing Labour leaders forming the government

find themselves, when in power, between the hammer and

the anvil. The rank-and-file members of the party, whose

votes have put their leaders into Parliament and given them

the right to form a government, wait impatiently for “their”

government to take measures that will improve their, the

voters’, situation. At the same time, bourgeois circles are

keeping a keen watch on the actions of the Labour Govern-

ment, to make sure that it does not damage capitalist inter-

ests too much. The government dare not ignore either of

these forces. The result—panic-stricken manoeuvrings, with

the working people getting very insignificant concessions, as

a rule no more than they would have got from a Conservative

Government under popular pressure.

MacDonald’s Cabinet was obliged to take into consideration

the unanimous demand by the British workers for normalisa-

tion of diplomatic relations with the USSR. Normal relations

were established in February 1924, and in August two agree-

ments, a general and a trade, were signed. At roughly the

same time the government was obliged, again under pres-

sure from the workers, to abandon the prosecution that had

recently been brought against J. R. Campbell, acting editor

of a communist publication. It was the attacks mounted in

Parliament by both Conservatives and Liberals against the

government on these issues which forced the government to

dissolve Parliament and call a new election.

That election had gone down in history thanks to the so-

called “Comintern letter”. At the height of the election cam-

paign, the Conservative press printed a forged letter suppos-

edly emanating from the Communist International and

making reference to the preparation of an armed uprising in

Britain. That this was a forgery became apparent straight

away. Its object was to scare the British electorate with

the “horrors of revolution” and so induce them to vote for

the Conservatives and not for Labour. Although ruling

circles in Britain were perfectly clear on the nature of this

“document”, the Foreign Office—headed by MacDonald—

sent a Note of protest to the Soviet Government. By this act

the government accorded the forgery the status of a genuine

document.

In this way the Conservatives and MacDonald ensured

defeat for Labour and a decisive victory for the Conservative

Party in the 1924 General Election.

The new election went well for Eden. His authority in his

constituency had grown. He campaigned actively on the two

questions at issue, condemning the Labour Government for

stopping the prosecution of Campbell, the communist publi-

cation editor. Eden’s speeches were those of any ordinary

Tory enemy of the Soviet Union, full of abuse for the Bol-

shevik Government that was “actuated by motives of hos-

tility to the British Empire and to all it stands for”. Is it

surprising that a young politician, an imperialist and an

aristocrat, should take up this position as regards a country

which had removed the exploiters and raised the banner of

struggle against imperialism, the most striking embodiment

of imperialism at that time being Britain herself?

The man who formed the Conservative Government was,

Once again, Stanley Baldwin—a big industrialist, closely

linked with heavy industry. He represented the “middle-

aged” generation of Conservative leaders. From the “old guard”

he had in his Cabinet Austen Chamberlain (as Foreign

Secretary), son of a well-known 19th century Birmingham

industrialist and popular politician, also Winston Churchill,

Man of remarkable talent and immense will-power.

Baldwin’s government wanted a quiet life at home and

abroad. But it did not succeed in getting it. In 1926 the

strike movement reached its culmination: for the first time

in British history there was a General Strike, which para-

lysed economic life and shook the capitalist fabric of the

country. In foreign affairs, rivalry with France finally ended

in Britain’s favour with the Locarno agreements, which were

to confirm British gains in the post-war peace settlement. At

the same time, London acted as a consistent enemy to the

Soviet Union and attempted, though unsuccessfully, to

organise fresh intervention against the Land of Soviets.

Britain also made active efforts to counter the Chinese revo-

lution. So in fact it appeared that Baldwin, and those whom

he represented, wanted peace and quiet only on their own

conditions.

Eden continued to build his political career. The political

situation within the Conservative Party at that time was

unstable, and Baldwin’s position none too secure. At such

a juncture miscalculation is only too easy. But Eden none

the Jess counted on Baldwin.

He had a distinct understanding of Baldwin’s aims in both

home and foreign policy, and in his own speeches he did his

best to substantiate and support the Baldwin line. It would

be wrong to argue that in this Eden was doing violence to

his own conscience and convictions. Baldwin’s general con-

ception, and the calm manner in which he presented it, lack-

ing unnecessary noise or affectation, fitted in well with

Eden’s own calm character and aversion to risky undertak-

ings. This sympathy made the young Member's position so

much the easier.

The press lords—Beaverbrook and Rothermere—were mak-

ing an onslaught upon Baldwin in their newspapers The

Daily Express and The Daily Mail. They demanded that

Britain should curb activity in the Middle East. Eden certain-

ly showed decision in coming out quite definitely and uncon-

ditionally against the press lords and in support of his

party leader. It is hard to say whether this was an intuitive

feeling that Baldwin was going to come out on top, or sheer

luck, which can sometimes assist even punters at the races.

Eden took up a stance of active support for Baldwin in

his fight against the Liberal Lloyd George. In 1922 Baldwin

had played a very operative part in breaking up the Tory-

Liberal coalition. Lloyd George had had to leave office, and

he became a consistent critic of the Conservatives in general

and Baldwin in particular. The latter responded with undy-

ing hatred of Lloyd George. It is said that people hate those

whom they have injured; Baldwin’s attitude to the veteran

Liberal leader certainly seems to support that view.

Stanley Baldwin was a clever enough politician and an

energetic party leader. But viewed in comparison with such

vivid personalities as, say, Lloyd George and Winston

Churchill, he appeared a very pale figure. Baldwin knew this,

and created his own manner accordingly. Pipe in mouth and

smile of shrewd simplicity in place, he looked like some

prosperous farmer known for his successes in pig-breeding

(which actually was one of his hobbies). Lord Birkenhead,

recalling the days when they worked together in the coalition

government under Lloyd George, said they used to regard

Baldwin as “the idiot boy of the Cabinet”. Whenin 1923 Bald-

win first headed a government, many of his opponents held

that this was a government of second-class minds. Ambitious

people commonly find it difficult to admit anyone else’s su-

periority. How could Baldwin, who had attained the highest

office of state and the position of leader of his own party,

accept this? He forgave Lloyd George nothing, nor others too.

Eden likewise missed no opportunity to be critical of his

leader’s opponent. As a general rule Anthony did not attack

anyone personally, so as not to make a permanent enemy,

but in the case of Lloyd George he abandoned his rule and

attacked him systematically over a number of years, which

did him a lot of good with Baldwin.

“Eden,” says Randolph Churchill, “like many other ambi-

tious young men of the party, early observed that under the

leadership of Baldwin advancement would come by discreet

and unquestioning services to the party and the Govern-

ment rather than by trying to impose his own personality

or will-power upon the House of Commons... Promotion in

the main went not by merit or outstanding abilities, but by

solid devoted services to the party and the Government.”

In 1925 Eden combined some journalism with his Parlia-

mentary work. His wife’s father was co-owner of a respectable

provincial newspaper, the Yorkshire Post, and from time

to time Anthony had articles on Parliamentary affairs, signed

“Back-Bencher”, printed in this, also book-reviews and art

criticism. In the summer of 1925 he took part, on behalf of

the Y orkshire Post, in an Imperial press conference in Austra-

lia. He always liked travel, and on this occasion the trip

was both long (about six months) and interesting; Eden

enjoyed it thoroughly. The group going to Australia includ-

ed several young people, who later achieved notable careers

as well as the subsequently notorious reactionary Lady

Astor and her husband. The British party first went to Cana-

da by ship, then across Canada by train from the Atlantic to

the Pacific. Then on by sea again, with a halt at the scenic

islands of Hawaii, to New Zealand and Australia. The return

journey was made via the Indian Ocean, withacall at Ceylon.

The reports which Eden sent back to his paper in the

course of the journey show his desire to understant the prob-

lems facing the British Empire. But he was unable to deal

with them with any depth. Some readers sceptically remarked

that the only “hard” information in these articles came

from tourist hand-outs. All, however, were agreed in approval

of the passages describing scenery, in which Eden’s

artistic taste came to the fore. Be that as it may, after his

return to England Eden had the articles published in a slim

booklet, entitled Places in the Sun, with a foreword by

Stanley Baldwin himself. The very fact that the Prime Min-

ister and party leader felt called on thus to introduce a rank-

and-file young Member of Parliament to the reading public,

was taken as pregnant with meaning. After this people began

to say that young Eden was a protégé of Baldwin’s. And

this was far from unimportant for a young man beginning

a career in politics.

Anyone reading Eden’s speeches and articles over the

seven years before he first received a government post must

inevitably reach the conclusion that the speaker, or writer,

was bending all his efforts towards keeping strictly in line

with his party and its leaders. Eden’s public pronouncements

provide the material from which we can form an estimate of

how his convictions had taken shape by the late twenties, by

which time the formation of his character had been com-

pleted.

The Conservative Party brings together people whose po-

litical views as a whole correspond to the interests of

British monopolies, but these views differ in part, when it

comes to the means whereby those interests should be served.

There is a clearly defined right wing and left wing within

the party. While right-wingers (Hicks, Churchill, etc.) were

in favour of using force to quell the labour movement, a num-

ber of young Conservatives thought it possible, and neces-

sary, to avert class confrontations by organising “co-partner-

ship” between industrialists and workers. The party leader,

Baldwin, was more or less in the centre, while Eden was

a little to the left of the centre.

The unusual exacerbation of the class struggle in 1926 made

the Conservatives look around for some means of averting

similar outbursts. By the united efforts of industrialists and

right-wing trades union leaders, the mechanics of “co-part-

nership” were elaborated. This system became known as

Mondism, after Sir Alfred Mond, who was in charge of the

negotiations with the General Council of TU. Contemporary

caricaturists produced apt representations of the Conservative

dream of class peace. Thecartoons show Baldwin watching

with approval as the representatives of capital and labour

shake hands, with a rainbow shining over them.

Eden’s views on the class struggle were developing along

thesame lines. He spoke in favour of doing away with strikes.

“The Conservative objective,” said Eden, “... must be to

spread the private ownership of property as widely as possi-

ble, to enable every worker to become a capitalist.” To

attain this, very vaguely outlined government measures to

assist industry were to be taken. He maintained that it was

necessary to develop “schemes of co-partnership in industry.

If the Conservative ideal is to be attained, the workers in

industry must have an increasing personal share in its prog-

ress, with which will then march a greater personal concern

for its well-being.”

One must really have no idea of the nature of the relation-

ship between labour and capital, or of economic problems in

general, to propose making every worker a capitalist. Sir

Alfred Mond was far from cherishing such illusory projects.

But Eden apparently took it seriously. When he published

his Memoirs thirty-five years later, he quoted his remarks on

the subject, made in 1929, without any qualification.

The Conservatives understood that they must apply them-

selves to “taming” the upper stratum of the working class,

by working on the leaders of the Labour Party and the trades

unions. It is interesting to see the advice Baldwin gave to

young Conservative MPs on how to treat Labour Members.

hough,” Baldwin said, “you may have had better education-

al advantages, do not presume upon that, they know more

about unemployment insurance than you! Above all, never

be sarcastic at their expense!”

he idea of replacing class struggle by class “co-part-

ership” brought together a group of young Conservatives,

Including Eden and half a dozen others. They arranged to

meet once a week for dinner and discussion of various politi-

cal problems, and to support one another in the House.

“Stanley Baldwin was accessible,” writes Eden, “and to mem-

bers of our small group he was the most sympathetic, sharing

our youthful ideas for a progressive Conservatism.”

While in home affairs Eden and those who thought like him

were trying to damp down class struggle and social contra-

dictions, in the international field they expressed themselves

to the contrary, being in favour of applying extreme mea- |

sures against the Soviet Union. The British Conservatives did

a great deal to heighten tension in international affairs during

the latter half of the twenties. In Britain and outside it,

they staged a series of major provocations against the USSR,

and broke off diplomatic relations with the USSR in 1927.

At the same time, there was a very marked stepping-up of

efforts by the leading imperialist powers to organise further

armed intervention against the USSR. The Conservative

Government of Britain was the principal enemy of the Soviet

Union at that time.

Anthony Eden totally and absolutely shared and support-

ed the policy of hostility to the USSR operated by Baldwin

and his Foreign Secretary, Austen Chamberlain. He fre-

quently spoke in the House of Commonsin ridicule of the idea

of concluding agreements to normalise relations with the

USSR, stirring up alarm at “the Soviet threat” and discours-

ing on the “subversive” nature of Soviet propaganda.

This last theme was an especially persistent one in his

speeches, and hardly surprisingly. For over twenty years,

from the October Revolution up to the Second World War,

British ruling circles insistently demanded that the USSR

should give up “anti-British propaganda”. It is a theme that

has been touched on fairly often in the last twenty-five

years also.

In raising the matter of “propaganda”, the British side

was in effect demanding that the entire nature of all material

on Britain published in the USSR should be changed. That

is, that Soviet journals, newspapers and books should treat

British life and British foreign policy not from the stand-

point of Marxism-Leninism, but in amanner that suited the |

British bourgeoisie: that they should, for instance, say noth-

ing about the causes of class conflict within Britain, or

about Britain’s exploitation of her numerous colonies, the

imperialist nature of her foreign policy, and so on. In other

words, British ruling circles were demanding that ideo-

logical work in the USSR should berun on lines of bourgevis

“objectivity”. Of course, the Soviet Union could not do other

than reject such demands.

The way in which the British side stated this question was

eloquent of many things: of the acuteness of the ideological

struggle, and of the fact that the existence of the USSR

was opening the eyes of the British working people and help-

ing to tear apart the many layers of deceit and misrepresen-

tation constantly wound around them by the bourgeois sys-

tem of ideological enslavement to paralyse their will to

fight.

ft was natural that in his speeches Eden should devote

much attention to problems of the British Empire, especial-

ly after his round-the-world trip of 1925. From his journey

Eden brought back a conviction that close links between

the mother country and the dominions were a matter of

mutual advantage to all. He was struck by the lack of knowl-

edge of life in the dominions prevalent in Britain, and vice

versa. This is pretty well the only point made in his Places

in the Sun. If one bears in mind that at the given period the

dominions were persistently striving to extend their political

rights, that a year later they achieved recognition of their

independence in both home and foreign policy, and of their

juridical equality with Britain, one can draw the conclusion

that the book’s author was clearly unwilling, or unable, to

set forth the true state of affairs within the British Empire.

Eden kept to the same line in his later utterances on Im-

perial problems. He tried to show that the high percentage

of “failed” emigrants from the mother country, who left in-

tending to settle permanently in one or another dominion,

but ended by coming back, was due to the fact that those

emigrating were badly prepared, and ignorant of the condi-

tions they would find in their new home. This was a favourite

theme in his speeches. But soon more serious matters

appearedjin them: Eden was campaigning for the introduction

of preferential tariffs in trade between the countries with-

In the Empire. He had not, of course, thought this up him-

self: the Conservatives had long been planning legislation

on Imperial Preference, and brought it in a few years later.

den’s speeches on Imperial affairs caused one of his bi-

Ographers to remark later that they helped “to give Eden

4 certain prestige in high places” and “were calculated to

appeal to elderly imperialists”.

Eden’s stance towards the United States of America is

3—01222 33

also worthy of note. From the very outset of his political

career he was convinced that cooperation with the USA was

extremely important for British foreign policy. “A greater

measure of understanding between this country and the

United States is the most important objective that the

Government of this country could set before us,” he said in

April 1929. “[It is] the most formidable safeguard for world

peace.”

As Eden acquired political maturity, he began to take

a wider and a deeper view, realising that the contradictions

between Britain and the United States, especially in the

fight for world markets, were very grave. But this did not

alter his basic conviction. The faithfulness with which he

pursued his line vis-a-vis the USA made him, later on, the

most popular British Foreign Secretary there has ever been

in America.

The safeguarding of world peace is mentioned in the above

quotation with the underlying assumption that this is, self-

evidently, the aim of British foreign policy. Eden will con-

tinue to speak in this way hundreds or even, perhaps, thou-

sands of times. It is therefore essential to elucidate exactly

what these words mean when they are used by Eden, or by

the many other British bourgeois politicians who assume

the role of peace-makers.

Britain is an imperialist power, and the foreign policies

of imperialism have an organic tendency towards aggression

and war. But it would be a mistake to assume that in imperi-

alist policy—in this case, in British policy—this tendency is

invariably displayed at any given moment. If Britain's inter-

ests are secure, under the international settlement prevail-

ing at a particular moment, then she will see it as in her

interest to preserve that settlement and to avert war if pos-

sible, inasmuch as it might disturb or destroy the existing

state of affairs. This was the case after the First World War,

for example, when Britain had an interest in preserving the

settlement made at Versailles.

In other words, British policy is concerned to preserve

only that kind of peace which serves her interests. If the

conditions of an existing peace are not serving British in-

terests, then British ruling circles will try to find a solution

through war, having first of course taken the traditional

precautions to ensure that the main burden of war will be

borne by others. Since British interests are to be found in

various quarters of the globe, a situation often arises in

which Britain is actively concerned for peace in one place,

while in another she is simultaneously preparing or un-

leashing war.

In the twenties, for instance, the British Government had

no interest in the peace being broken in Western Europe,

but at the same time had no objection to attempts to organise

armed intervention against the USSR, while also fighting the

Chinese revolution. As a prominent specialist in British his-

tory, V. I. Popov, quite rightly notes: “British ruling circles

set forth to aggravate relations with the Soviet state, with

the aim of organising a system of anti-Soviet diplomatic and

military alliances and so preparing an anti-Soviet war.” In

the thirties Britain did not, again, want war in Western

Europe, but persistently worked to prepare and provoke war

between Germany and the Soviet Union. And British ruling

circles disguised the zigzagging line of their foreign policy

with talk of peace, because they had to keep their own people

in continued ignorance of the true nature of their policy.

The actual word “peace” is one of those most frequently used

in the lexicon of British politicians. Probably some of them

are victims of their own propaganda and take the word to

mean just what it says. But only some of them.

Public opinion in many countries, in the twenties and thir-

ties, bound up their hopes for peace with the activities of

the League of Nations. Eden did not share those hopes. He

had no faith in the possibilities of that organisation, or only

in a very narrow interpretation of these possibilities. “What

I had hoped of the League, and hope still, is that its great-

est benefit will be by the opportunities it will create for

statesmen of different nationalities to meet and exchange

. opinions.” Baldwin thought the same, seeing the value

of the League in the possibilities it afforded for discussion

of international problems by representatives of Kuropean

countries. In Eden’s utterances on the League of Nations

the ruling note is one of scepticism, plus the belief that mul-

tilateral agreements (blocs on the Locarno model) suit

British interests best.

_ In this sphere also Eden’s views were totally and entirely

in accord with the positions adopted by the Conservative

Party and government. Britain, unlike France, always want-

ed to see the League weak and without powers, a mere fo-

Tum for discussion of internationai problems. This fondness

for Locarno and scepticism with regard to the League of

Nations were further expressions of Britain’s persistently

3* 35

negative attitude to the idea] of collective security, as

evinced over many decades of the 2Uth century.

By the end of the twenties, Eden had evolved a fairly

clear-cut concept of international relations, which he adhered

to until the end of his political career. This concept, in

which a pragmatic approach to problems of British foreign

policy is blended with rather idealistic premises regarding

the actions of countries and governments, was quite crude

even from the viewpoint of various scholars within the bour-

geois world. Eden takes absolutely no account of underly-

ing motives for the actions of peoples and governments. Eco-

nomic contradictions, as forming one of the motive forces

in world politics, are given no consideration at all.

He seeks the roots of all international discord and wars

in human nature, in the moods and feelings of nations. Ac-

cording to Eden, war can only be got rid of when you have

made the necessary changes and alterations in the “passions”

of nations. “To expect,” he declared, “the League to change

human nature in a year or two was an extravagant expecta-

tion.” And again: “You will not change by one instrument

or in one day the passions of nations. lt must take time.”

A similar mixture of pragmatism and idealism can be met

with among bourgeois statesmen of our day also. But it

was particularly widespread in the years when Eden’s ac-

tive political career was getting under way.

The principal part in Eden’s concept is played by his read-

ing of Britain’s role and place in world politics. Here he

is an outright imperialist, following in the footsteps of his

numerous predecessors and keeping in step with his party.

At the very dawn of his career Eden had been saying: “It

was of the first importance that our influence, as the stabi-

lizing nation of Europe, should be strong,” thus in effect

claiming hegemony in Europe for Britain. Eden devoted ma-

ny years of his life to fighting for that claim.

In 1925 an important event in Eden’s career took place —

he became Parliamentary Private Secretary to Locker-Lamp-

son, Under-Secretary to the Home Office. The job itself

is no great prize, it involves a Jot of technical, organisational

work in the House of Commons, nor does it carry any sala-

ry—it means being a personal aide, no more, and in this

case to an Under-Secretary, not a full Minister. But this

job brought a great deal with it for the young politician.

Locker-Lampson had a very good relationship with his

chief, the Foreign Secretary Austen Chamberlain, whose

Parliamentary Private Secretary he had himself been for

a time. So when Chamberlain’s aide Lumley resigned, Cham-

berlain turned to Locker-Lampson for advice on whom to

take as a replacement. Locker-Lampson recommended Eden.

Lumley associated himself with the recommendation (he

and Anthony had been friends since their university years).

Chamberlain, who had already formed his own opinion of

Eden on the grounds of the latter’s parliamentary perfor-

mance, took favourable note of their suggestion and made

Eden his PPS. This was an important step upwards. It was

one which finally determined the future path of the young

Member. Recalling his appointment thirty years later, Eden

was to write: “I am now astonished to read how soon I was

propelled into the political stratosphere.”

The appointment was made in July 1926. By this time

Eden had already been three years an active Member of

Parliament. His new duties amounted, in effect, to acting as

connecting link between Memhers and the Minister, convey-

ing to the latter the Members’ views of foreign policy mat-

ters. In view of this it was the tradition that a Parliamenta-

ry Secretary should not speak (or not often speak, at least)

on matters coming within his chief’s competence. For Eden

this was frustrating—he had already got the taste for discus-

sions of international issues.

But this inconvenience was compensated many times over

by the immense advantages which the new job gave him. All

his biographers are agreed that it was a great stroke of luck

for him when he was taken onas “apprentice” to Austen

Chamberlain. The young politician was thereby placed at the

very centre of governmental policy debates and decision-

making on international affairs. Eden had all the attributes

needed to make him “go down well” with Chamberlain (calm-

ness, reserve, education, efficiency, a pleasing appearance),

and he exerted himself to perform his new duties in the best

possible manner. This won him Chamberlain’s favour, and

this he enjoyed thereafter until his patron’s eventual death.

Working with Chamberlain took Eden to Geneva, to the

headquarters of the League of Nations, long before he him-

self became Minister for League of Nations Affairs. A few

weeks after Eden had been appointed to his new post Cham-

berlain proposed that he should accompany him to Geneva.

That time Anthony was not able to take the offer up, but a

vear later" he was able to accompany the Foreign Secretary

to a session of the League of Nations.

At that time the Council of the League met four times a

year, and the member countries were usually represented by

their Foreign Ministers. Germany was brought into the

League in 1926, which meant that the Foreign Ministers of all

the great and “middling” powers, with the exception of the

USSR and the USA, foregathered in Geneva. The sessions

lasted a week, and the Ministers were able to meet one an-

other for informal talksand discussions, and these were con-

sidered to be of greater importance than the debates in the

Council.

“TI did not travel to Geneva in a haze of confidence,” Eden

recalled later. “My mood was rather one of watchful interest

with a streak of scepticism.” But his first trip to Geneva af-

forded him considerable satisfaction none the less. A jour-

ney by the Foreign Secretary was in itself an event in those

days. The Minister and his suite were seen off at Victoria

Station by the top-hatted station-master and a bevy of

Foreign Office officials. At Dover the harbour-master met

them and saw them on to their boat. On the French side the

Minister was greeted by the Mayor of Calais. Then it was the

train to Paris, and the obligatory dinner at the British Em-

bassy. In the evening the party took the night train for Swit-

zerland from the Gare de Lyon. In Geneva they were met

at the station by the entire staff of the British mission to the

League. That is how things were in the old days. As time

passed, the procedure became a lot simpler.

The British party stayed at the Hétel Beau Rivage, on

the shore of Lake Leman. This was the regular place of so-

journ for Chamberlain and his party when visiting Geneva.

Not far from the Beau Rivage was the Hotel des Bergues,

on the bank of the Rhéne, which housed the headquarters

of the French Foreign Minister, Briand. Chamberlain would

meet his opposite numbers for lunch or dinner. Stresemann,

Germany’s Minister for Foreign Affairs, would come for

lunch. The talk at table was of international affairs. Anthony

Eden, also present at these ministerial meals, would listen

attentively. Here was “high policy” being made before his

very eyes; he was being given object-lessons in British dip-

lomacy.

The Conservative Government’s reactionary home and for-

eign policies were evoking more and more discontent within

the country. According to English historians, by 1929,

when a General Election was due, the country was anxious

for a change. It was therefore natural that the Conservatives

were defeated in the election, losing 159 seats in the House

of Commons. The Labour Party was victorious, gaining 28

seats. Baldwin’s Cabinet resigned, and MacDonald formed

the second Labour government.

Eden, however, survived the test of an election and kept

his seat. His Parliamentary successes had increased his au-

thority among the electors. Eden’s position in the Warwick

and Leamington constituency was becoming ever more se-

cure. As tradition required, he made more frequent visits

to the area at election time, bringing his wife with him and

participating in various evening parties and dances. The con-

stituency boundaries were extended, and the candidate had

to travel round numerous villages making speeches. Eden re-

lates how once he arrived at a village in the evening to find

an audience consisting of the Conservative election agent

and two local reporters. But he still had to make his speech.

The voters must be respected, nothing indicative of contempt

was admissible. That would lose votes.

In 1930 Britain, like other capitalist countries, was shaken

by an acute economic crisis, all the more severe because

there had been no economic boom preceding it. Industrial pro-

duction fell sharply. Unemployment shot up.

When the pound totteredin1931, MacDonald tried to save

the situation by cutting unemployment benefits and other

social expenditures. Given the acute poverty prevailing not

only among the unemployed but with many of those in work

as well, this was a provocative challenge to the working class.

The workers’ fury was so great that the Labour Ministers,

with three exceptions, dared not support MacDonald's pro-

posals. The Prime Minister then opted for outright betray-

al, and reached an agreement with Baldwin and with Lib-

eral leaders on the formation of a coalition government. The

Conservatives left MacDonald as” Prime Minister, and the

other three Labour deserters in their ministerial posts. That

was the facade. The real power within government rested

with the Conservatives. Baldwin, as Deputy Premier, was

more a Prime Minister than MacDonald, who was permitted

to perform at the front of the political stage for a number

of years. The “National”_Government formed then continued

in existence, with many’ modifications, for fifteen years. The

Labour Party took a long time to recover from the desertion

of its leaders.

All these alarms and excursions ‘strengthened Eden’s

hand. The Conservative Party had been in opposition just

over two years. Those two years were a difficult period in its

history. The troubles afflicting British capitalism aroused

fierce conflict within the party over the future lines of devel-

opment for Britain and its empire. To this were added

personal ambitions and the fight for power within the party.

Winston Churchill made a desperate attempt, as the English

historian A.J.P. Taylor notes, to oust Baldwin from the lead-

ership of the Conservative Party, attacking his policy on

India. Baldwin survived. He also survived when the press

lords, Beaverbrook and Rothermere, formed the United Em-

pire Party with the object of overthrowing Baldwin and

changing Conservative Imperial policy. On all these occa-

sions Eden remained faithful to Baldwin’s group, which soon

brought its reward.

In 1932 an international Conference on Disarmament was

to take place, and the British Government began to prepare

for it in good time. In March 1931 MacDonald decided to

form a three-party committee (Labour, Liberal and Conser-

vative representatives) to prepare for the conference. The

Conservative representatives were Austen Chamberlain, Sam-

uel Hoare (former Secretary of State for Air) and Anthony

Eden, who was included at the suggestion of Baldwin and

Chamberlain. This was a mark of their great trust in this

young politician.

This was Eden’s first experience of discussing internation-

al problems at the highest level—that of the Cabinet. And

as he later confessed, he liked the experience. Now he looked

forward to being made a junior Minister. Indeed, things were

going in such a way that the prize seemed to beckon from

the not too distant future, if he was lucky. A man who was

in all respects “one of ours” could not stay neglected for long.

Bourgeois Britain needed people who could fight, actively

and skilfully, for the interests of the British Empire.

Chapter If

THE FIRST STAGE

IN THE POLICY OF “APPEASEMENT”

The day after the formation of the “National” Government

Philip Snowden, one of MacDonald’s supporters, remarked

to him that he would be very popular in aristocratic circles.

MacDonald replied, gleefully rubbing his hands: “Yes, to-

morrow every Duchess in London will be wanting to kiss

me.” He was a man of boundless vanity, and all his life he

had been trying to win acceptance and recognition in such

circles. Now, with his flight to their camp, the dream came

true.

MacDonald was expelled from the Labour Party as a trai-

tor, and as such he has gone down in the history of the Brit-

ish and the international working-class movement.’ Ruling

circles, however, repaid the service MacDonald had done

them most generously. They let him remain as Prime Min-

ister until 1935, and from then until his death in 1937 he

was Lord President of the Council, with ministerial rank.

Decades have passed, but bourgeois historians and writers

of memoirs are still praising MacDonald. Among them Eden,

who in 1962 wrote that MacDonald’s formation of the “Na-

tional” Government seemed to him to be “a necessary deed

and a brave one”. How could it be otherwise: official British

propaganda and ideology see it as very important to praise

and ennoble any class betrayal which helps the bourgeoisie.

The coalition, or “National”* Government, had a Cabi-

net or directive nucleus—the senior Ministers, whose very

Salary is greater than that of their colleagues—of no more

than ten men. Four places were reserved for MacDonald and

companion renegades from Labour. Besides MacDonald, who

retained the post of Prime Minister by”grace~and favour

of the Conservatives, these were Philip’Snowden (Chancellor

_ “In using the word “National”. those taking part in the coali-

tion wished to indicate that their government represented the in-

terests of no single party. but those of the whole nation. In fact it

was a government in which the Conservatives predominated and

advanced their policics.

of the Exchequer as before), J. H. Thomas (who became Sec-

retary of State for Dominions and Colonies) and Lord Sankey

(Lord Chancellor). Such generosity to MacDonald’s group

onthe part of the Conservatives has a verv simple expla-

nation: the government was about to introduce a number of

measures to combat the economic crisis at the expense of the

working people, measures which would be extremely unpop-

war, and Baldwin considered that it was in the interests of

his party to make MacDonald & Co responsible for them

in the eyes of the nation.

The Conservatives also took four portfolios for themselves.

Baldwin became Lord President of the Council and Dep-

uty Premier, Neville Chamberlain (step-brother of Austen)

got the Ministry of Health, Samuel Hoare the India Of-

fice, and Cunliffe-Lister the Board of Trade. Two Liberals—

Herbert Samuel and Lord Reading—became heads of the

Home Office and the Foreign Office respectively.

The wreck of the Labour Government and its replacement

by the “National” one was very opportune for Anthony Eden.

If it had not happened, the next General Election would not

have taken place until 1933 (the House of Commons being

elected for a four-year term), and Eden would have had to

content himself with the position of a Back-Bench member

of his party. with that party in opposition for at least another

two years. Now he found great possibilities opening up be-

fore him.

In 1931, when the change of government took place, Eden

had hopes that he would not be forgotten. He thought he

should be able to count on a junior ministerial post. But of

course this was not and could not bea certainty, for a fierce

struggle was being played out among the three parties and

within each one of them.™ Ontopof that, he was still very

young, and had been in Parliament for only eight years.

Eden recorded in his diary on August 27, 1931 that he had

lunched that day with Austen Chamberlain, who told him

that there wasa chance that Anthony would get a post in the

Foreign Office," and that he, Chamberlain, had got advance

agreement to this from’Lord Reading, who had been appoint-

ed Foreign Secretary. Baldwin was also going to speak to

Reading about it. All the indications” were that Baldwin fa-

voured Eden’s candidacy above all others. “The F.O.,”

notes Eden, ,.with the S. of S. inthe Upper House is high-

erthan I hoped for, and I do not’expect that I shall get it.”

The next day the diary has this entry: “In due course the

summons came. S. B. [Stanley Baldwin] could not have been

kinder. He told me that he wanted me to go to the F. O. where

he had intended to send me for a spell himself if our party

had been returned, and added that he regarded me as ‘a

potential Foreign Secretary’ in about ten years’ time and

that was why he wanted me to have the experience as soon

as possible. Unhappily thereYhad been a hitch. Ramsay

wanted his son to go there. He did not propose to agree.

Reading wanted me at the F.O. as well as himself... Ram-

say's son had been going to the Dominions Office but ‘one

of them shall be yours’... I told him that I would prefer the

F.O., of the two. He said: ‘Of course you would, of course

you would.’ ”

In fact it was no simple matter for Baldwin to ensure that

Eden got this junior ministerial post. Since the government

was a coalition government, each of the three parties involved

was doing its best to’get a certain number of posts for

itself, and everyone had to be as nearly satisfied as possible.

And within the Conservative Party itself there were other

able young men with as good a right as Eden to expect the

post of Under-Secretary at the Foreign Office, like Duff

Cooper for instance.

The decisive factor in the final appointment was that Bald-

win saw Eden as a “good man”, who could be trusted and

relied on. As far as objective requirements went, Eden had

what was necessary: he had concerned himself for a number

of years in Parliament with matters of foreign policy, and

had had training under*Austen Chamberlain—an eminent

member of the Old Guard of the Conservative Party; he

knew the internal workings of the Foreign Office, and was

guite well informed on the state of affairs in Europe and in

the Middle East.

By September 4 the matter was settled, and Eden became

Under-Secretary of State at the Foreign Office.*

* Fden’s biographers differ in their treatment and assessment of

many events in his life. The circumstances of his appointment to

the Foreign Office have been given here as in his own Memoirs.

Nere is the version given by Lewis Broad: “Fden’s appointment

was carried out in this manner. The names of a number of can-

didates considered to be suitable for the post were put down on a

sheet of paper. This was placed before the Marquess fie. Lord

Reading] to choose one from among them as his junior... Much

More than the under-secretaryship hung in the balance as Lord

Reading hesitated over the names. His choice fell upon Anthony

Eden.” There can be no doubt that Eden’s own version is nearer

to the truth.

He became not only an Under-Secretary, his duties includ-

ed responsibility in the House of Commons for matters con-

cerning his Ministry. The English tradition is that a Minis-

ter who is a peer can speak only in the House of Lords, not

in the Commons. Since Lord Reading sat in the Upper House,

it was Eden who had to’speak in the House of Commons on

matters of foreign policy. This gave additional weight and

importance to the post he had received.

But in this same connection Eden sometimes had some un- |

pleasant moments. In'the Foreign Office, the person next in

seniority to the Secretary of State himself is the Permanent

Under-Secretary. Parties may come and go in office, Ministers |

arrive and depart again, but the Permanent Under-Secretary |

retains his post regardless of all the changes. He is in full

charge of the internal apparatus of the Foreign Office and all

its workings, and it is he who prepares, on the basis of the

material available through this apparatus, the draft deci- |

sions for the Secretary of State on the matters for which he is

responsible. The tradition is that the Secretary of State re- |

spects the opinion of his Permanent Under-Secretary, and as

a rule, alwavs follows his advice. In the years we are speak-

ing of, the Permanent Under-Secretary received all reports

from abroad, and passed them on to the Secretary of State |

and to some other members of the Cabinet. Eden only got |

this material as it came back from the Minister. One can |

imagine his embarrassment when those on the Treasury or |

Front Bench—the Cabinet Ministers—having read a cipher |

from Paris, say, started discussing with him the Ambassa-

dor’s message which they had already read but he had not

yet seen.

But all that was trivial compared to the fact itself that

Anthony Eden at 34 years of age was already Under-Secre- |

tary of State at the Foreign Office.

Eden got his post at a difficult time for Britain and for |

the world. In 1931 'Japan attacked the north-eastern prov-

inces of China (Manchuria). With this action the forces of agg- |

ression started the flames in the first hotbed of the approach-

ing Second World War. In Germany the Nazis were tearing

their way to power. ]

The British economy was struggling in the grip of the cri-

sis. The country’s ruling circles, panie-stricken, set in mo- |

tion emergency “measures to cope with its economic diffi-

culties. The “National” Government passeda numberof mea-

sures, cutting unemployment benefits, the pay of civil

servants, and the pay of those in the armed forces. The re-

sult of this last was a spontaneous mutiny on board a squad-

ron of battleships lying off the naval base at Invergordon.

The Royal Navy, one of the main pillars of imperialist

Britain, was no longer secure. Another pillar—the pound

sterling—also began to wobble. Extreme measures had to

be taken—the pound came off the gold standard.

The Conservatives felt that it would be in their interests

to call a General Election before time and take advantage of

the Labour Party’s state of crisis to acquire a stable majority

in the House of Commons for themselves. This would give

them a free hand for another four years. The election took

place in October. The desertion of the Labour leaders brought

about a crushing defeat for the Labour Party. They lost 236

seats, and were left with only 52. The Conservatives, on the

other hand, ended up with 473 instead of the 260 they had

previously held. This gave the Conservatives an absolute

majority in the House of Commons, enabling them to carry

through any plans they liked.

Eden became a Member of the new Parliament with no trou-

ble. He gained 29 thousand more votes than his Labour op-

ponent. When the result had been announced, Eden appeared

at the window of the Conservative Club and told the as-

sembled crowds: “I think this is the best day’s work for

England we have ever done.” No doubt he had inmind his

party’s success as well as his own.

The coalition of Conservatives, Liberals and MacDonald’s

group had asked for “a doctor’s mandate” from the electorate,

a mandate to “treat” the crisis-stricken economy of the coun-

try. And they gotit. The treatment turned out to be as be-

fore, a new round of cuts in unemployment benefits. The re-

sponse came in massive demonstrations and protest meetings,

and clashes with the police. The Conservatives gradually

and by stages brought in protectionist measures to defend

the British internal market by customs duties and licences.

It must be admitted that this was a sensible course. Britain

was too weak to allow herself the luxury of free trade, faced

with powerful competitors. Within the Conservative Party

a struggle had been going on for decades over this question.

t was now ended, with victory to the protectionists.

Eden took no active part in this struggle. At no time in

his life did he have any interest in financial policy, or in home

affairs in general, and he did not understand such matters

very well. For a career in the field of foreign affairs all that

was irrelevant. In speeches he remarked, apropos of free

trade and protection: “Perhaps it is true of ... the younger |

members of our party, that we are merely opportunists in

these fiscal natters. [, personally, am prepared to plead guilty

to the charge. It seems to me that the only useful test

which can be applied in these fiscal controversies ... is the

result which is actually achieved.” The testing by results |

proved to be in favour of protection.

Immediately following the election changes were made in

the “National” Government, with more Conservatives than

before. Neville Chamberlain, who was gaining influence wilh-

in the Conservative Party, took over the Treasury from Phil-

ip Snowden, who was given the sinecure of being Lord Privy

Seal, and shortly afterwards was made a Viscount as well.

Neville Chamberlain thus got the opportunity to carry through

the protectionist measures he wanted, and he also emerged

on to the finishing straight in the race for the Premier-

ship. By tradition, the post of Prime Minister goes to the

man who has previously been Chancellor of the Exchequer.

Lord Reading, with whom Eden had got on very well,

had to hand over the Foreign Office to John Simon, with

whom as it soon transpired he did not get on so well. Simon,

a jurist of the first rank, had become a Cabinet Minister in

Asquith’s Liberal government in 1913. He had gained consid-

erable popularity when in the late twenties he presided over

a commission on the government of India. Although Simon

belonged to the Liberal Party, his ideas were arch-reaction-

ary. That was what got him such a responsible position.

Simon’s arrival meant that Eden’s functions in the Com-

mons would be curtailed. Eden was the Minister’s deputy in

Parliament for matters concerning foreign affairs, and as Si-

mon was also a member of the House of Commons and spoke

there on all the most important foreign policy issues, Nden

had to play a secondary part. But Eden was not pushed into

the background. He was given the job of representing Brit- |

ain at the League of Nations. His speeches at the League |

brought Eden a degree of popularity in Britain and outside it |

which he would never have attained in the House of Com-

mons. Soon Eden was being spoken and written about much

more than Simon or Baldwin.

British historians are pretty unanimous in holding that

Simon did not make a good Foreign Secretary, because he had

a legalistic turn of mind. When speaking on matters of for-

eign policy he would give in detail the arguments brought |

forward by the various parties concerned, and his hearers

were not alwaysable to make out exactly what was London’s

position in all this, and what they were supposed to support.

Baldwin once remarked that the Foreign Office seemed to

have two policies—one pro-French, and the other pro-Ger-

man. Whereas he, Baldwin, would prefer it if the arguments

of Britain’s opponents were given in rather less detail, and

“our own conclusions and proposals” made more plain.

Everyone has his own specific traits. Simon had his, but

they are not really the point here. In Britain Ministers get

categorised as bad, good or excellent strictly on the basis of

how successful or otherwise their policies have proved to be.

As regards Simon, he was the first in the line of Foreign Sec-

retaries whoin the thirties followed the policy of “appease-

ment” of aggressive powers, the policy which led in 1938

to Munich, and in 1939 to the outbreak of the Second World

War. “Simon’s advent to the Foreign Office was to commence

a disastrous era in which under successive Foreign Secre-

taries, himself, Hoare, Eden and Halifax ... Britain was fatu-

ously conducted towards the second world war.” Thus wrote

Randolph Churchill. The important points to note in this

statement are that it comes from a Conservative, an extreme

reactionary and enemy of the Soviet Union, and secondly,

that it places direct responsibility for British policy in the

thirties not on Simon’s shoulders only, but Eden’s as well.

Both of them came to the Foreign Office when the “Lo-

carno era” in British policy was coming to an end and was

being replaced by the “Munich era”. In both these periods,

a basic factor in deciding the course London was to steer

was the desire to channel German aggression and expansion

towards the East, primarily against the Soviet Union.

International relations in the period between the two

world wars went through rapid changes, much more rapid

than in the 19th century or just prior to the First World War.

This was the result of the quickening tempo of development

by the major powers, and the increasing unevenness of that

development. Life negated many carefully thought-out, well-

presented foreign policy concepts. Ten years passed by, and

Lenin’s prognosis that the contradictions inherent in the

Versailles-Washington system would blow it apart, was

shown to be correct.

British foreign policy in the early thirties was determined

by the contradiction existing between the two worlds—the

Capitalist and the socialist, in the given case represented by

British imperialism and the Soviet Union. There were also

inter-imperialist contradictions between Britain and the

countries defeated in the First World War—the “deprived”

countries: Germany, Japan and Italy.

The first-mentioned contradiction was the one which

London saw as most important and, for the sake of settling

that, was even prepared to sacrifice some of its interests in

the inter-imperialist sphere. The result was the creation of

what came to be known as the policy of “appeasement”, ap-

peasement of the aggressive, predatory fascist and milita-

rist powers, and this policy was obstinately pursued by Brit-

ish ruling circles in the thirties. The idea of this ingenious—

as its authors thought—policy was to use territorial, mili-

tary, economic and political concessions to Germany,

Italy and Japan to direct the expansionism of those countries

elsewhere, primarily against the USSR. The end result of

the policy as its creators saw it would be to wreck the So-

viet Union and to satiate the fascist powers to such an extent

that they would cease to be a threat to British interests. The

cunning of the whole idea was in full accord with the tradi-

tions of imperialist foreign policy.

The actions of these British politicians succeeded in chang-

ing the very meaning of the word “appeasement”. Original-

ly the word had the humane connotation of bringing satis-

faction and peace to the human individual, to relations be-

tween people. By theend of the thirties it was a dirty word,

disgraced and worthy of contempt, since it symbolised, by

then, disgraceful complicity with the fascist predators, be-

trayal of whole countries and peoplesin the sellish interests

of imperialist politicians, and a treacherous deal made with

criminal forces that left countless victims and inflicted

boundless suffering upon mankind.

The class hatred of socialism in British ruling circles was

translated into the anti-Soviet bias of the policy of “appease-

ment”. Today this is recognised even by bourgeois histo-

rians. Margaret George, for instance, published a book in

1965, in the USA, in which she demonstrated convincingly

that it was indeed anti-communism which prevented the

government in London realising in time the full danger to

Britain of Nazi Germany. Naturally, contemporary defend-

ers of “appeasement” rushed to argue down a historian who

had dared to name the class basis of that shameful policy.

But an English author, Neville Thompson, who took up the

subject in 1971 and madea thorough study of Margaret

George’s arguments and those of her opponents, was obliged

to come to the conclusion that “George has the better argu-

ment”. Thompson noted that “Conservative dislike and dis-

trust of the U.S.S.R. in this period was ... axiomatic” and

that in British ruling circles “for the Russian system there

was nothing but thinly disguised fear and hatred”. There are

plenty of other similar admissions. On the basis of these

A. J. P. Taylor reached the clear conclusion that Conserva-

tives preferred national-socialism to communism.

The British press in the thirties made no secret of the fact

that Nazi Germany was being “appeased” against the Soviet

Union. There were frequent calls for the creation of a strong

Central Europe under German leadership as a bulwark

against Communist Russia. When the Soviet-French pact was

signed in 1935, in the interests of defence against German ag-

gression, British Conservatives saw it, according to Austen

Chamberlain, as “almost a betrayal of Western Civilization”.

Hatred of the Soviet Union was to make the British Govern-

ment inevitably an ally of fascism—socialism’s bitterest

foe.

Putting the policy of “appeasement” into practice was made

considerably easier by the fact that not only the Conser-

vatives, but Liberals and right-wing Labour men as well

cherished deepest hatred of communism. In that respect there

was indeed a; “national unity” of a kind in Britain, in the

period when “appeasement” was coming into being (by 1939

the situation had changed somewhat).

But the policy of “appeasement” was hostile not only to

Soviet Union. It was directed against any striving towards

freedom by humanity as a whole, against the progressive de-

velopment of mankind. “Appeasement” was a concept in the

highest degree reactionary.

It was a policy which damaged very directly the interests

of many other countries in Europe and in Asia. The tech-

nique of “appeasement” was fairly simple: lumps of territory,

or whole countries, were thrown into the ravening maw of

fascism. Japanese militarism, for example, was “appeased”

at the expense of China. Italian fascism was kept happy by

having Ethiopia and Somalia sold off to it cheap. A series

of countries in Central, Eastern and South-Eastern Europe

was betrayed by the “appeasers” into the hands of German

azism. The situation in Central Europe was discussed in

detail on numerous occasions in British ruling circles; the

area was known as “the earthquake zone” on account of its

4—01222 49

instability. Certain countries were held to be “incapable”

of solving their own problems independently; therefore they

had best be transformed, under German leadership, into an

economic and political union of sorts, which would be “a

stabilising factor” in this restless region.

Such a plan, in its authors’ opinion, could satisfy the ag-

gressive aspirations of Nazism and make it favourably in-

clined towards Britain and her colonies. In helping Germa-

ny to create a colonial empire in Europe, British politicians

hoped to induce her to abandon her claims to the colonies

which had been taken from her after the First World War.

And most important of all—this scheme pushed Germany in

an easterly direction, towards the USSR.

This new line in London’s foreign policy started to come

into operation, in effect, from 1931, when Britain, assisted

by France and some other countries, would not allow the

League of Nations to take any action to prevent Japan pur-

suing her aggression against North-East China.

British ruling circles always operated the policy of “ap-

peasement” at the expense of other countries and peoples, and

always with the object of creating new situations in which

the dominant role in Europe would be Britain’s. For this

reason they stubbornly insisted that any changes made should

be only by means of agreements reached between the ag-

gressor countries and Britain, i.e. that they should in effect

only be made with Britain’s agreement. But Germany and

Italy, not wishing to be dependent upon Britain’s “charity”,

and becoming progressively more convinced of the British

Government’s readiness to make concessions, were all the

more anxious to present the latter with faits accomplis.

In such cases “appeasement” took the form of non-interven-

tion in the predatory acts committed by the aggressor coun-

tries; the “appeasers” would not hinder fascism from carry-

ing out its fell work. Non-intervention was thus a variant of

“appeasement”. Jt was usually accompanied by ambiguous

and toothless criticism addressed to the aggressor; this was

a way of expressing displeasure at unilateral actions and of

“giving satisfaction” to the masses of the people at home who

were indignant over the acts of aggression.

The British Government “appeased” aggressors even at

the expense of its own allies, actual or potential. Eleanor

Rathbone, an Independent MP, defined “appeasement” at

that period as a “plan of selling your friends in order to buy

off your enemies—-which has the danger that a time comes

when you have no friends left, and then you find you need

them, and then it is too late to buy them back”.

Czechoslovakia, Austria, Poland and a number of other

countries became the victims of “appeasement”, and even

France, inasmuch as “appeasement” radically affected her

security. French ruling circles, anti-communist in attitude,

tailed along behind British policy but demonstrated hesita-

tions and indecision which evoked irritation in London. In

that city they were too late in realising that “appeasement”

was creating a mortal threat to Britain herself. “Appease-

ment” asa policy was of negative significance internationally,

since it destroyed the security of many countries, handing

them over one by one to the grip of fascism and opening it

the way to war for world domination. The nations had to

pay dearly for these crimes perpetrated by British imperi-

alism and it was the peoples of the USSR who paid dearest

of all, for they had to bear the brunt of the fight against

fascism.

The “appeasers” asserted that as Germany, Italy and Japan

had become significantly stronger (the fact that this had

been achieved thanks to London’s policy-makers was care-

fully passed over) the balance of power had changed in their

favour, i.e. the forces which might have barred the way to

aggression had been weakened. Hence it was hopeless to op-

pose the demands made by Germany, I[taly and Japan.

Alexander Cadogan, who in the late thirties became the

Permanent Under-Secretary at the Foreign Office, wrote sub-

sequently that Halifax, like Chamberlain and other “appeas-

ers”, believed it to be their duty “to make every effort to

avert a war which we were almost certain to lose”. Cadogan

was not a stupid man, he knew the meaning of the policy

pursued by the British Government at that time, he knew

what it had led to, he knew that the front of nations which

was formed against the aggressors, and which included Brit-

ain, did eventually win the war against fascism.

The British people had the wool pulled over their eyes,

deliberately being given false forecasts of armed resistance

to the aggressor.

‘True, the balance of power as between Britain and France,

on the one hand, and Germany, Italy and Japan, on the other,

had indeed changed in the aggressor nations’ favour. Every

acl of “appeasement” incidentally made the situation worse

for Britain. But it would be wrong to think that the balance

of power between the countries thirsting for revanche and

ae 1

aggression and those states which were prepared to resist

them was less favourable to the latter in the thirties than it

had been in the period prior to “appeasement”. It was rather

the reverse. The Soviet Union, successfully carrying through

construction of a socialist state, had by the thirties been

transformed into a strong power, capable of putting up deci-

sive resistance to aggressors.

The USSR was not only able but eager to play an active

part in averting war. In the early thirties it took the deci-

sion to forward the struggle for collective security. This

struggle became the guideline of Soviet foreign policy, put-

ting into practice Lenin’s principle of peaceful coexistence

among states with different social systems.

The British Conservatives not only used every possible

means to work against Soviet efforts to organise collective

resistance to aggression in Europe, they also showed stubborn

reluctance to undertake any bilateral measures together

with the USSR that might have strengthened peace. There

is one reason and only one—class hatred for a socialist

state. Unless account is taken of these attitudes and their

prevalence among British ruling circles, it is impossible to

make sense of their foreign policy.

Even the immediate threat of a world conflagration in

1939 did not make the British Government, suppress its ha-

tred of the Soviet Union and subordinate it to the urgent need

to join its own efforts with the USSR to avert fascist aggre-

ssion. Only when the truth became absolutely obvious in

mid-1941, that Britain without the help of the USSR was

incapable of avoiding defeat in the Second World War, only

then were the ruling circles of Britain obliged to abandon

open and official anti-Sovietism for a time and form a mili-

tary alliance with the USSR. As soon as it appeared that

the total defeat of Germany and her allies was already as-

sured, British policy again began to be determined by hatred

of the USSR and of socialism.

In the light of these indubitable facts it becomes clear

how false were the assertions of the British “appeasers” that

there were then no forces capable of halting the aggressors.

It should be added that the British ruling circles rejected

the opportunities—small, it is true, but there none the less—

which the League of Nations afforded for the organisation of

collective security. After the USSR came into the League

in 1934 these opportunities increased. But before two years

had passed the “appeasers” had wrecked the League of Na-

tions and had practically reduced its importance to zero.

The United States of America must also bear its share of

responsibility for “appeasement” and for Munich. But this

should not obscure the fact that the USA (as President Roose-

velt understood very well) had its own conflicts of inter-

est with Germany, and even more so with Japan. With

certain small exceptions the British Government was quite

unwilling to make use of this factor in order to organise resist-

ance to the aggressor (the Second World War showed how great

were the potential possibilities here). The then Prime Min-

ister, Neville Chamberlain, according to Cadogan, had “an

almost instinctive contempt for the Americans”. Of course

it was not really a matter of the sympathies or antipathies

of the Prime Minister. What irritated Chamberlain was the

USA having pretensions to the leading role in world affairs,

the role which Britain-—he was quite convinced of it—ought

to play. Thus there were Anglo-American conflicts in play

as well.

An important question arises: was there any organised

opposition in Britain to the policy of “appeasement”, and if

so, what results did it produce?

The only political organisation in the country which took

up an unconditionally negative stance to “appeasement” as

a policy, and held to it, was the Communist Party of Great

Britain.

But the influence of the Communist Party in the country

was small, and it was unable to hinder the Conservatives

to any extent in their “appeasement” of fascism. This was so

primarily because the leadership of the Labour Party fol-

lowed a bourgeois-reformist policy. From time to time right-

wing Labour spokesmen (and it was right-wingers who rep-

resented the Labour Party in Parliament) would make pro-

tests about the acts of the aggressor powers, and would crit-

icise the policy of the “National” Government. But this was

Parliamentary shadow-boxing rather than a fight on princi-

ple. Remaining actively anti-Soviet themselves, the Labour

leadership could not'and did not much try to organise effec-

tive resistance to the government line in foreign policy.

More than that, some Labour representatives often came out

in support of the “appeasers’” policy. Arthur Henderson Jr.,

for example, declared in the House of Commons in February

1938: “There is no Hon. Member on this side of the House

who has any objections to the policy of general appeasement

to which the Prime Minister referred.”

As regards the Liberals, they had long ago lost their posi-

tion in the political lifeofthe country. The “National Lib-

erals’, who were in the government, were in no way to be

distinguished from dyed-in-the-wool Tories. John Simon,

for instance, as Foreign Secretary was an unconditional sup-

porter of “appeasement”.

Paradoxical as it may seem, the bourgeois researchers who

have concerned themselves with “anti-appeasement” trends

in Britain concentrate mainly on the stands taken and the

utterances made by certain individuals within the Conser-

vative Party. The object of this can only be to gloss over the

guilt of the Conservatives for the start of the Second World

War. The innocent reader is thus led along to the following

formulation: yes, there were among the Conservatives some

foolish and unprincipled people, who adopted a policy which

ended in shameful failure; but there were also men of great

courage and high principle, who rejected the policy of com-

plicity with fascism and boldly denounced its leaders. This

“differentiated” approach is very important for Conserva-

tives, since they are still actively engaged in the political are-

na and need votes in elections.

British Conservatism is not unique in its desire to minimise

its responsibility for aiding fascism. After the victory of

the peoples over Nazi Germany, this became something of a

fashion in the bourgeois countries. Since fascism had stained

itself with monstrous crimes, all those organisations

and individuals who had collaborated with fascism have for

decades been trying to make their collaboration, and hence

their own guilt, appear as small as possible. Those who at

the time took up a position of neutrality now often try to

represent themselves as anti-fascist fighters. The exaggera-

tion or invention of “services rendered” against fascism is

not characteristic only of the Tories and their apologists.

It is the typical reaction of bourgeois politicians to the his-

torical defeat of fascism.

Study of the sources on this question brought Thompson,

an American historian, to the following conclusion: “On

closer examination Conservative opposition to appeasement

is rather like a mirage: the more it is studied the less sub-

stantial it appears; but in this case it never vanishes complete-

ly. What remains is a picture of sporadic and discontinu-

ous dissent, of individual critics and small cliques but no co-

hesive group... It is difficult to draw a clear-cut distinction

between the appeasers and their opponents even in the last

part of the decade. Indeed the attempt to draw such a dis-

tinction would be misleading, as practically everyone was

in favour of appeasement, if not of Germany then of Italy

and certainly of Japan, at one time or another.”

Until the Munich deal was concluded with the fascist

powers, there were in effect no voices raised in the Conser-

vative ranks against the policy of “appeasement”. This in-

cludes Anthony Eden too, who has been elevated by English

historiography to the status of “chief anti-appeaser” by an

appropriate interpretation of his disagreement with Cham-

berlain and resignation from office in early 1938. In actual

fact it was not quite like that.

Eden always considered it essential that the Treaty of

Versailles should be reviewed in Germany’s favour. He spoke

of this publicly, though in somewhat veiled form. At an

official dinner in 1932 he declared that there was the tenden-

cy in Europe to pay too much attention to the “mechanics of

peace and too little to its fundamentals”. By the “mechanics”

was meant the settlement of Versailles, which in Eden’s

view should be re-considered so as to create mutual under-

standing and confidence between countries. Unless this was

done it would be impossible to reach agreement on disarma-

ment and preserve peace. This idea can be glimpsed in

Eden’s utterances even after the Nazis had come to power in

Germany. In late 1933 he stated: “What was needed for the

recovery of confidence in Europe [an odd formulation:

had there ever been any confidence in Europe?—V.T.]

was the removal of the causes of uneasiness.” Meaning that

the causes of Germany’s and Italy’s dissatisfaction should

be removed.

In private conversation Eden was more definite. Three

weeks before the Germans re-militarised the Rhineland he

told Harold Nicolson that he was “prepared to make great

concessions to German appetites provided they will sign a

disarmament treaty and join the League of Nations” and

that he intended “to work for this during the next three years”.

A specitic list of these concessions can be found in a mem-

orandum for government Ministers drawn up by Eden on

February 11, 1936: “Are we prepared, for instance,” he wrote,

“to recognize that Germany should have special trading

Privileges in certain areas, e.g., the Danube Basin? Are we

Prepared to surrender our most-favoured-nation right in

order that this may be brought about? Are we prepared in

certain circumstances to consider a guaranteed loan to Ger-

many? Are we prepared to consider the return to Germany,

under mandate or otherwise, of even one of the colonies tak-

en from her during the war? Are we prepared, more partic-

ularly if the German Government devalue the mark, to re-

sist the probable pressure from interested parties in this coun-

try demanding the further exclusion of German goods from

the British market? Are we prepared to consider with France

and Belgium the abandonment of the demilitarised zone?

Are we prepared, in fact, to approach Germany with propos-

als to collaborate so far as possible in a new period of Euro-

pean tranquility and economic reconstruction, instead of as

hitherto waiting for her ‘claims’ and ‘repudiations’?” It

is worth noting that it is just this list of concessions to Nazi

Germany, with very minor modifications, which was of-

fered by the British Government to the Nazis during the se-

cret talks in the summer of 1939.

Others beside Eden who figure’in the list of “anti-appeas-

ers” are Robert Vansittart, Leopold Amery and Winston

Churchill.

Robert Vansittart is well known as a man of anti-German

persuasions. It is a fact that he had a marked distrust for

the deeds and declarations of the Nazi Government. But it

was Vansittart and no other who insisted from the very be-

ginning of the thirties that the provisions of the Treaty of

Versailles ought to be revised, although understandably he

did not come out in public with this idea. By 1936 he was

speaking of the need to return to Germany the colonies which

had been taken from her, “if we ever want lasting peace”.

Leopold Amery, who represented the Imperial wing of the

Tory Party, i.e. the Conservatives directly connected with

exploitation of the peoples and the wealth of the colonial

Empire, naturally objected categorically to returning Ger-

many’s former colonies. But he was prepared to “appease”

Germany at the expense of the Central and Eastern European

countries. Amery was also loud in his demands that Italy’s

claims should be satisfied.

Winston Churchill was without doubt, on the eve of the

Second World War, the most vivid exponent of views criti-

cal of the “National” Government’s foreign policy. Some au-

thors maintain that he was almost the only sober-minded pol-

itician there was in the “appeasement” period. And yet even

Churchill cannot be considered a consistent opponent of “ap-

peasement”. Two months before Hitler came to power he was

laying it down that “the removal of the just grievances of the

vanquished ought to precede the disarmament of the victors”.

It was only after the re-militarisation of the Rhineland that

Churchill came out firmly against “appeasement” of Germany.

Though Thompson notes that “even afterwards he continued

to hope that Hitler would settle down and become a good

European”.

The stand of the “anti-appeasers” was much weakened by

their hostility to the USSR. There was not a single one amo-

ngst them free from prejudice and hatred for the Soviet

Union, who would have been prepared to work together with

the USSR on a basis of equality and mutual respect. This

radically reduced the possibilities of counter-acting the

policy of “appeasing” the aggressors.

Those who did not accept this or that manifestation of

“appeasement” were still at one, in their class attitudes,

with the “appeasers”. The imperialist interests of Britain

bound them all together. For this reason they could not go

so far as outright confrontation.

The weakness of the “anti-appeasers” was expressed not

only in their very small numbers (the number of Conserva-

tive Members of Parliament who officially opposed the gov-

ernment’s foreign policy was never more than ten), but

likewise in the fact that the House of Commons always, on

every occasion, supported the government. Even at the most

dangerous and shameful moment of all, when the Munich

Agreement was debated, the government had the full sup-

port of Parliament.

The history of “appeasement” as a policy can be given a

fairly precise periodisation. Its beginning can be placed in

1931, when Britain, France and the other powers refused to

make use of the League of Nations and took no other mea-

sures, either, to halt Japanese aggression in Manchuria. Clem-

ent Attlee said in 1937, in Parliament: “The policy of this

Government throughout, right on from 1931, has always been

to try and appease the aggressor by the sacrifice of weaker

States, but the more you yield to the aggressor the greater

his appetite.” The end of the first period can be seen in 1935,

when Britain and France (the Hoare-Laval plan) wrecked

the timid attempts made by the League of Nations to op-

pose Italy’s war of seizure in Abyssinia. The second period,

Starting in late 1935 with the failure of the Hoare-Laval

Plan, lasted about three years. The Munich Agreement (au-

tumn 1938) can be considered the culmination of that stage

in the policy of “appeasement”. The third stage lasted from

Munich until early Septemher 1939, i.e. the beginning of the

Second World War. Lastly, the period of the “phoney war”

(up to May 1940) should be seen as a fourth period in the pol-

icy of “appeasement”, although it took place under new

and peculiar circumstances, Britain being already juridi-

cally at war with Germany.

The first acts of “appeasement” of the fascist aggressors

were taken before Eden held senior office which might have

enabled him to influence the government’s foreign poli-

cy.

In September 1931 Japanese troops provoked military in-

cidents (the aggressors were never too particular about the

means used to find excuses for attacking their victims)

with Chinese units in North-East China. Britain had very

considerable interests in the Far East. Alexander Cadogan,

in a paper for Cabinet use which formulated British interests

in various parts of the world and sketched out lines of the

foreign policy to be followed in view of the international

situation, stated in October 1938: “British interests in China

. are considerable and are concentrated mainly in the hands

of a not very numerous body of British individuals and con-

cerns.” But later on he stressed that their protection was not

“intrinsically vital”. Why the indifference to these inter-

ests? It was primarily due to the fact that Japan intended—

and this comes from an official Japanese document—“hav-

ing gained all the resources of China”, and of several other

countries in Asia, “to cross swords once more with Russia”.

And this, as British politicians saw it, was sufficient reason

for “appeasing” Japan at the expense of China, even if Brit-

ish interests there were adversely affected. So from 19314

on Japan continued its seizure of Chinese territory with the

connivance of Britain and certain other powers.

The Conservatives regarded Japan as “a guarantor of sta-

bility and order” in the Far East; she should be cooperated

with in order to ensure the survival of the British Empire.

Japan, said the Conservative Saturday Review, was “a force

against Bolshevism in China and Revolutionary National-

ism in India”. It stressed that “behind China ... stands Rus-

sia”, and that “a modicum of good sense and clear sight should

have taught the League to keep its fingers from between

the hammer of Japan and the anvil of China”. One isjhardly

surprised to find the journal concluding that “everygschool-

boy knows that the only part of the Chinese Republic where

life and property are safe is where they are protected by

Japanese bayonets”.

John Simon’s declaration in the House of Commons on

this question in March 1932, according to K. Zilliacus, a

Labour Member, “virtually assured the Japanese that they

could go as far as they liked because, whatever they did or

the Covenant said, Great Britain was determined not to

lift a finger. That was in fact the way the Japanese inter-

preted British policy, and the events showed that they were

right.”

The various ways in which British (and American) rul-

ing circles assisted Hitler’s coming to power, in January

1933, should also be seen as a form of “appeasement” of the

aggressive forces. The British press, especially Lord Rother-

mere’s Conservative newspapers, carried on a propaganda

campaign in favour of the transfer of power in Germany to

the Nazis. In the autumn of 1930 Rothermere had already

been talking of the many advantages that would accrue

from the National-Socialists’ assumption of political power,

in particular the fact that it would provide a firm bulwark

against Bolshevism. It would be best for the existence of

Western civilisation, he felt, if in Germany a government

came to power which was inspired by the same healthy prin-

ciples that had enabled Mussolini to regenerate Italy in the

space of eight years.

This was why a certain section of Britain’s ruling circles,

along with their sympathisers in the United States and in

France, gave support to the Hitlerites when they seized pow-

er in Germany. It was their anti-Sovietism which prevent-

ed their seeing in good time that the hostility of fascism to

Bolshevism did not exclude its also presenting a threat to

the interests and security of other states.

This step forward in “appeasement” was followed by the

next, and in this Anthony Eden was directly concerned.

This was the work of the Geneva Conference on Disarma-

ment, in the course of which Britain, the USA, France and

Italy sanctioned the so-called “re-armament” of Germa-

ny.

Although in the twenties and early thirties not a single

imperialist government had the slightest intention of dis-

arming, the desire of the peoples to avert another war was so

great that no one dared to come out officially against disar-

Mament. This provides the explanation of the immense clam-

our of propaganda which was raised in the press during

those years with the object of representing the bourgeoi

governments as active fighters for peace.

Eden was commissioned to represent Britain at the League

of Nations. His speeches at Geneva were widely publi-

cised in the press. The papers were full of photographs of

the young, elegant politician. In creating a popular image

of Eden as a “supporter of disarmament” and a “peace-mak-

er’, the British bourgeois press was daily and hourly sug-

gesting to its readers and to public opinion in the world at

large the idea, in reality quite false, that British policy was

directed towards securing disarmament and _ peace.

From this time dates the beginning of the gradual build-

up of a quite inaccurate but persistent image of Eden as a

pacifist, even as a supporter of collective security. The

years went by, and this picture, created by propaganda and

publicity, came to be less and less like the real Eden, the

faithful and reliable executor of the British Conservatives’

imperialist policy.

The British Government’s partners at Geneva were pursu-

ing analogous aims, and in consequence a regular, accepted

mode of procedure was soon worked out. The representatives

of the various countries would make, at the meetings of the

League and its committees, interminable speeches which

appeared to be pacifist in content, but in reality were calcu-

lated to drown the facts of a situation in a sea of words. Very

soon the League of Nations was being referred to in many

countries as “that talking-shop in Geneva”.

One of Eden’s contemporaries, Duff Cooper, who in the

Jate twenties was Financial Secretary to the War Office,

visited Gevena as a member of a British delegation. In his

Memoirs he has this to say about the atmosphere reigning at

the League of Nations: “The numbers of committees which

talked interminably and accomplished nothing, which in-

deed never hoped to accomplish anything, the gossip of the

cosmopolitan politicians, the huge dreary dinner-parties

and receptions, created an impression of confusion and

gloom.”

On the other hand, contacts behind the scenes at the League,

in the quiet, comfortable hotels and restaurants of Ge-

neva and its picturesque environs, were used for the taking

of diplomatic soundings and the conclusion of imperialist

deals. The first steps by British policy along the road of

“appeasement” were taken either at the League of Nations

or in direct relation to its activities.

In 1932-1933 world attention was centred on the Interna-

tional Conference on Disarmament, which after long delays

finally opened in Geneva on February 2, 1932. The peoples

had great hopes on it. Their desire for disarmament and the

preservation of peace reached its height at the time of this

conference. At the very same time, processes were taking

place in international relations which made the prospects

for disarmament unreal.

The world economic crisis had considerably aggravated

the contradictions between the imperialist states, and

brought nearer the danger of war breaking out between them.

In the Far East Japanese aggression against China was under

way. The coming to power of the Nazis in Germany sharply

increased the danger of war in Europe.

Yet some possibility of a constructive solution to the prob-

lem of disarmament still existed, even in those difficult

conditions. A very great deal depended upon the position

adopted by Britain, which undoubtedly played a leading

role in the League of Nations.

There can be no doubt whatever that the people of Brit-

ain, the vast majority of them, were in favour of disarmament.

Not a single historian who has touched on the disarmament

question has been able to passover in silence the wave of

pacifism which swept Britain in the first half of the thirties.

British public opinion put forward the idea of Britain uni-

laterally reducing its armaments. Philip Noel-Baker, a

Labour publicist who after the Second World War was award-

ed the Nobel Peace Prize, published at that earlier time a

book with the title The Private Manufacture of Armaments,

in which he argued that actual disarmament by Britain

“might well prove decisive in securing the adoption of a

new policy by the world at large”.

Responding to these feelings, the Labour and Liberal par-

ties officially demanded that the government take definite

steps towards disarmament at the Geneva Conference, and

at the same time they voted in Parliament against increasing

war expenditure. The anti-war movement in Britain in all

its forms, including the return to Parliament of candidates

standing in by-elections on a disarmament ticket, reached its

highest point in 1933.

Underlying these expressions of British public opinion

was not only pacifist feeling, the desire to achieve disarma-

ment on an international scale, but also an understanding

of the fact that arms in the hands of British imperialism were

always used for aggressive, reactionary purposes. The exam-

ple of the First World War was still fresh in the memory of

the ordinary Briton.

As soon as the Disarmament Conference opened in Gene-

va, the British delegation there received a flood of thousands

of telegrams demanding that it ensure an agreement on disar-

mament. But there were other forces also at work in Britain,

and it was they that delermined government policy on disar-

mament. The historian W. N. Medlicott has called them the

“conservative elements in society—businessmen, arms man-

ufacturers ... imperialists, all professional soldiers above

the rank of captain, members of the House of Lords with

nephews in Kenya li.e. connected with colonial exploitation—

Ver"

It was these people who decided the actual position of

the British Government on disarmament. Official British

propaganda proclaimed, bearing in mind popular feeling at

home and public opinion abroad, that the “National” Gov-

ernment supported general disarmament and was doing

everything possible to ensure the success of the Geneva Con-

ference. In actual fact the ruling circles of Britain had no in-

terest whatever in the conference achieving any positive re-

sults, and it is they who bear the main responsibility for

its failure.

The British Government made use of the Geneva Conference

for its own diplomatic game, playing off one power against

another (e.g. Germany against France) in order to increase

its own primacy in European affairs. Major-General Tem-

perley, a member of the British delegation, later recalled:

“One felt a sense of shame that one was taking part in a co-

lossal make-believe, that the people had not been told the

truth.”

The British delegation arrived in Geneva without any def-

inite proposals to make. It was headed by MacDonald, the

Prime Minister; Eden was deputy head of the delegation and

in fact functioned as its leader. During the entire time of

the conference’s sitting, more than a year, that delegation

presented nothing even remotely resembling a plan of ac-

tion on disarmament. Month after month the conference re-

mained in session, yet London was unable to work out any

constructive ideas. Recalling that period, Eden later wrote:

“I thought His Majesty’s Government dilatory.”

The Soviet Union, though not as yet a member of the

League of Nations, had also been invited to attend the Disar-

mament Conference. The Soviet delegation arrived in Gene-

ya firmly determined to attain an agreement on disarma-

ment, and with a concrete plan of how it could be done. It

submitted a plan for general and complete disarmament.

In case such radical measures were unacceptable to other

participants in the conference, the Soviet delegation declared

its readiness to discuss any other disarmament proposals

that might be advanced. For that eventuality it submitted

a draft convention on proportional reduction of armaments.

This was a clear and definite position, showing that the So-

viet Union approached disarmament in a businesslike fashi-

on.

The British delegation started its work by preventing ac-

ceptance of the Soviet proposals. This was comparatively

easy for it to do, since Britain played the leading part in the

League of Nations and at the conference (its President was a

Briton, Arthur Henderson), and likewise because many del-

egations from the imperialist powers supported the British,

having themselves no interest in real disarmament.

In October 1932 Simon, Edenand Vansittart, who was

ihen Permanent Under-Secretary at the Foreign Office, were

working on a paper for the Cabinet defining the British atti-

tude to Germany’s claim for “equality of rights” in the mat-

ter of armaments too. This document produced no definite

response from the Cabinet, and at the beginning of Novem-

ber Eden had to return to Geneva “without a single syllable

of instruction or advice”, as he noted in his diary.

Soon, however, the instructions came. And on the basis

of these an agreement was arranged which recognised Ger-

many’s right to equality in armaments. Germany had been

demanding the lifting of the restrictions set by the Treaty

of Versailles on her armaments. Britain was in favour of

meeting this demand. France was against. French statesmen

realised that the growth of German armaments automatical-

ly lessened the security of France. The Berlin government

threatened to leave the conference unless its demands were

met. In the end German and British pressure, supported by

the United States and Italy, obliged France to give way, and

on December 11, 1932 a Declaration by these five powers was

issued which recognised Germany’s right to equality in ar-

maments. Since this decision was not accompanied by any

agreement on general disarmament, it was inevitable that

it would stimulate universal arms race. Thus, thanks to the

efforts of Britain and a number of other countries, the Geneva

Conference ceased to be a conference on disarmament and

became a conference on armament.

The British Government pursued a quite definite line at

Geneva. This involved, firstly, the wrecking of the Soviet

proposals. When it had rejected the Soviet plans for disar-

mament, Britain and her imperialist partners went on to

prevent acceptance of a draft declaration presented by the

USSR which would have defined what was meant by “ag-

gressor”’. Eden demanded “flexibility” when the facts of ag-

gression were established, and declared that the question of

who had first violated a frontier was of “secondary impor-

tance”.

Secondly, the British position involved negotiating limi-

tation of the armaments of other parties, while retaining her

own intact. This was done quite simply and cynically. Ad-

miral Pound insisted on the retention of battleships (the

most important element in the Royal Navy) and the out-

lawing of submarines, which were a serious threat to British

surface warships. The British generals were prepared to see

the prohibition of heavy artillery and heavy tanks (Britain

had neither), and were quite ready to agree to some limita-

tion of the air force. “I had written to Baldwin,” says Eden

in his Memoirs, “...that since we were so weak in air power,

any international limitations were bound to be to our advan-

tage.” At the same time, the British delegation objected to

complete prohibition of bomber forces, which London needed

to suppress the national liberation movement in the colo-

nies.

The position of the British Government and its imperial-

ist partners at Geneva, on another occasion five years pre-

viously, had been very well depicted in a speech by Win-

ston Churchill, in what he called a “disarmament fable”:

“Once upon a time all the animals in the Zoo decided that

they would disarm, and they arranged to have a conference

to arrange the matter. So the Rhinoceros said when he opened

the proceedings that the use of teeth was barbarous and

horrible and ought to be strictly prohibited by general con-

sent. Horns, which were mainly defensive weapons, would,

of course, have to be allowed. The Buffalo, the Stag, the Por-

cupine, and even the little Hedgehog all said they would vote

with the Rhino, but the Lion and the Tiger took a differ-

ent view. They defended teeth and even claws, which they

described as honourable weapons of immemorial! antiquity.

The Panther, the Leopard, the Puma and the whole tribe of

small cats all supported the Lion and the Tiger. Then the

Bear spoke. He proposed that both teeth and horns should

be banned and never used again for fighting by any animal.

It would be quite enough if animals were allowed to give

each other a good hug when they quarrelled. No one could

object to that. It was so fraternal, and that would bea great

siep towards peace. However, all the other animals were very

olfended with the Bear, and the Turkey fell into a perfect

panic.

“The discussion got so hot and angry, and all these ani-

mals began thinking so much about horns and teeth and hug-

ging when they argued about the peaceful intentions that

had brought them together that they began to look at one

another in a very nasty way. Luckily the keepers were able

to calm them down and persuade them to go back quietly

to their cages.” The Geneva Disarmament Conference repro-

duced Churchill's fable with amazing accuracy, except that

there were no forces in the world capable of acting as

keepers.

Eden’s letters to London showed his growing alarm at the

bad impression being created in Geneva by the conduct of

the British delegation in criticising and rejecting proposals

advanced by others, without itself proposing anything posi-

tive. This had been going on for over a year. Even the most

naive observers could see that Britain did not want disarma-

ment and was deliberately marking time in the hope that

the conference would quietly fade away. Eden saw that all

this was damaging British prestige, and wanted to do some-

thing to save the situation. He proposed that Britain should

produce a detailed draft convention on disarmament and

lay it before the conference, so as to avoid the accusation

that Britain was responsible for the failure of the confer-

ence. “There seems to me to be only one course left to us,”

wrote Eden to Simon, “which ... would at least, whatever

the consequences of failure, mark plainly to the world that

we have done our utmost to achieve success.” In London it

was recognised that his alarm was well founded. Thus was

born the idea that became the MacDonald Plan (as it was

referred to), which for some reason or other received undeser-

vedly extensive publicity.

The idea was made reality with incredible speed. What

the Foreign Office and other Ministries had been unable to

do throughout the many years of preparation preceding the

conference, or during the first thirteen months of its sessions,

5~01222 65

Eden and two other members of his stafi—Alexander Cado-

gan and William Malkin—did in the course of one week-

end in Geneva. An unbelievable time-schedule for elabo-

rating a document such as an international convention on

disarmament.

The document, once produced, was quickly printed, and

on March 2, 1933 Eden and Cadogan took it to London.

MacDonald, Baldwin, Simon, Vansittart, and the Cabinet’s

Foreign Affairs Committee with one accord approved it.

It was decided that MacDonald and Simon should go to

Geneva, in order to make the presentation of the draft as

impressive as possible.

MacDonald and Simon arrived in Geneva on March 11.

And at this point the whole undertaking nearly came to

grief. The Italian representative at the conference, Aloisi,

passed on to MacDonald an invitation from Mussolini to

meet him in person. On March 14 Eden wrote in his diary:

“Prime Minister highly delighted at idea of Rome visit and

abandoning all idea of Convention [on Disarmament—

V.T.). After Aloisi had gone the Prime Minister and I

had a talk alone. I told him | thought it would cause a most

unforlunate impression if he left Geneva after a week with

nothing even atlempted... Eventually he agreed and admit-

ted the conference must have some meat.”

On March 16, 1983, MacDonald spoke at the Disarmament

Conference, outlining his plan for solving the problem and

presenting the British draft convention. His speech, accord-

ing to Eden, “was criticized for rambling and ranting, but

... did the job”. The so-called MacDonald Plan, which was

really the Eden-Cadogan-Malkin Plan, was a medley of all

the proposals previously made at the conference which were

acceptable to Britain. That was why it had been so quick and

simple to draw up. At the same time, however, a definile

line could be traced running through it. The draft convention

incorporated arguments for German re-armament, and gave

Britain definite advantages over other countries in the mat-

ler of armaments.

Eden was faced with a thankless task: he had to enter

into serious discussions with his partners on a document

which had been cooked up and with much ballyhoo laid

hefore the conference, not with the object of solving the

problem of disarmament but as a move in the game of

misinformation and propaganda to cover up Britain's

negative attitude and relieve her of responsibility for the

rapidly approaching failure of the conference. The trouble

was that the others understood very well the true meaning

of the British “initiative’. Eden just had to put the best

face he could on things.

Hlis partners at Geneva were first-rank bourgeois states-

men and diplomats of that period, men like Paul-Boncour

from France, Neurath from Germany, Dollfuss from Austria,

Aloisi from Italy, Benes from Czechoslovakia, Titulescu

from Romania, and the United States observer Davis. Eden

learned a lot from them so far as bourgeois diplomacy was

concerned. If later on he was considered a master at diplo-

matic talks, it is Geneva 1932-1933 which must be s2en as

the main school of his talents in this direction.

Immediately after presenting the British draft conven-

tion for the consideration of the conference MacDonald

hastily departed for Rome to meet Mussolini. His departure

was one more demonstration of London’s negative attitude

to the conference, showing that however hard the British

press tried to advertise the MacDonald Plan even the British

themselves did not take it seriously. The talks in Rome at

once switched the attention of European diplomats from

Geneva to Rome, and the MacDonald Plan was left almost

unregarded. But the meeting between the British Prime

Minister and the fascist dictator of Italy pointed to the true

direction of British policy—reaching agreement with the

fascist. powers. In concrete terms, MacDonald hoped to

achieve this by means of a Four-Power Pact between Britain

(which was to play the leading part, of course), France,

Italy and Germany. One of Eden’s biographers, Dennis

Lbardens, notes: “It is ironic indeed that Hitler had no

sooner crushed democracy in Germany than we were running

after him, begging him to join forces with Mussolini in the

Four-Power Pact.”

Owing to French resistance the pact, signed in July 1933,

was never ratified. It only took five years more and the clear

road from the Four-Power Pact brought Britain and the

other signatories to the deal made at Munich.

When the Prime Minister’s notorious “pilgrimage to Rome”

and the MacDonald Plan, presented to the Disarmament

Conference, were debated in the House of Commons, these

actions of the Cabinet were subjected to fierce criticism by

Winston Churchill. Ile came right out against the idea of

disarmament, saying flatly that disarmament conferences

did more harm than good, and that one single such con-

5* 67

ference had just cost the British taxpayer £ 40,000. Better

for Mr. MacDonald to stay at home, he said, and concern

himself with domestic affairs, than tinker with matters

he did not understand. Foreign affairs should be left to

envoys who had had the proper training and understood

what was at stake. This declaration was made in Churchill’s

customary aggressive tone, reinforced on this occasion by

his personal hostility to MacDonald.

And at this point Eden leapt to the Prime Minister's

defence. It had already become second nature to him to

stand up for his superiors, whether he liked their actions

or not. The Old Guard of the Conservative Party, and Bald-

win in particular, set great store by this quality in Eden.

To be reliable and ever ready is a trait indispensable to

a politician making a career. Pale and tense, according to

one biographer, Anthony Eden rose to his feet to defend

MacDonald. Looking straight at Churchill, he declared

that the accusations made against the Prime Minister were

“a fantastic absurdity”. New times called for new methods.

The trip to Rome was the “new method”. It could help to

bring France and Germany closer together, etc., etc.

Eden, in fact, was once again showing his loyalty. It is

interesting to note that this sharply couched speech of his

did nothing to spoil his future good relations with Churchill,

for the battles of Parliamentary debate are often a kind of

game.

As the international situation worsened, Eden’s stock

went up. For January 1, 1934, he got a fine New Year gift:

his long-time dream was accomplished and he became a Min-

ister, a member of the government. On the eve before

Christmas MacDonald had summoned Eden and offered him

the office of Lord Privy Seal. MacDonald offered the office

without a seat in the Cabinet. Eden’s responsibilities were

to remain as they had been—to represent Britain at the

League of Nations and deal with disarmament.

Eden under his new title was more or less attached to

the Foreign Office as its second Secretary of State. Conse-

quently Britain found itself with two Ministers dealing

with foreign affairs—a “senior” one, Simon, and a “junior”

one, Eden. Relations between the two were strained.

At this time Anthony Eden was only 36 years old. But the

years had already given him a presence. His faultless ele-

gance was everywhere noted by the journalists. Innumerable

photographs of the young Minister filled the newspapers

in Britain and abroad. The whole world learned how well

Eden dressed, and where he bought his hats and his ties.

‘To the man-in-the-street he was the incarnation of aristocra-

cy, and minor officials trying to make a career imitated

him religiously.

Noblesse oblige, and Eden changes his London residence.

He moves to a more imposing house, in Mayfair, near

llyde Park—the traditional quarter of the “top people”.

The house was beautifully furnished and boasted footmen

in red-and-blue livery. He had a bigger, finer room at the

Foreign Office, too.

Watching the flood of publicity for Eden in the press,

some political journalists were even then attempting to

make a serious appraisal of this rapidly rising political star.

Randolph Churchill, Winston Churchill’s son, then a young

political commentator, published a long article on Eden in

1934. “The latest political fad,” wrote Randolph Churchill,

“is the cult of Mr. Eden. He first leapt into international

fame last summer when a French newspaper decided he was

the best-dressed Englishman. Since then the political

prophets and wiseacres have been tipping him as the next

leader of the Conservative Party... He has a fine presence,

a deferential manner, a courteous word for everybody, and

unlimited patience and docility towards his elders. In addi-

tion, through his wife, he is connected with the powerful

Beckett family, pundits not only of the Westminster Bank

but also of the Yorkshire Post, that pillar of orthodox Conser-

vatism. Many powerful individuals and groups are uniting

at the moment in aneffort to puff him. We are told how remark-

able it is that such a young man should have attained such

high office. Considering his limited abilities, it is remark-

able... Mr. Anthony Eden has none of the qualities of

youth... That is why he has been successful—but only by

kind permission of the older men. His success will continue

only so long as he continues to serve them.

“The old men are able to fob off young men of promise by

saying: ‘Look at the splendid promotion we have given

that young man, Mr. Anthony Eden’, knowing all the while

that he is no menace to them...

“The Anthony Edens will win every time, as the old gang

will always encourage mediocrity rather than brilliance.

Real ability will always be suppressed.”

The characteristics in Eden which Randolph Churchill

described thus unkindly were without doubt important to

the Old Guard Conservatives controlling the government.

No less important to them was the assurance that Eden

shared their views, agreed with their political line, and

would do all he could to further it. It was clear that in the

not too distant future important decisions would have to

be taken. And Eden justified their trust.

In December 1933 the British Government was already

preparing for a fresh round of talks with Germany. By this

time the “appeasers” had already achieved a large measure

of “success”. The business of a Four-Power Pact had gone

ahead. In Geneva Germany’s right to “re-armament” had

been juridically formulated. In the MacDonald Plan Brit-

ain had officially proposed that sanction should be given

to Germany having an army of 200,000 men, which meant

repealing the appropriate clause of the Treaty of Versailles,

under which Germany was not allowed to have more than

100,000 under arms, including both officers and men. But

as soon as these concessions were made, the Nazis immedi-

ately announced that they needed an army 300,000 strong.

Anxiety was aroused in Daris, and not without reason.

By this time it had become clear to people in Paris what

they could expect when London began to speak of talks with

Germany. As Eden notes, the French Government “feared

that any discussions with the German Government would

result in more concessions”. French ruling circles realised

that re-armament of a Germany ruled by men who had

openly raised the banner of revanche harboured serious

danger for France. Elence the objections from Paris to some

of the British proposals—hesitant objections, not going the

whole way, but enough to cause annoyance in London.

Over a period of many years British politicians had done

their best to further British interests by egging on Germany

and France one against the other. This trend was still

being continued after the First World War. Eden writes

of “the British tendency to help the weak against the strong

... which may only be an instinct for the balance of power” —

the latter being one of the cardinal principles of British

foreign policy. Britain sought to follow this principle with

the object of putting herself in a position to act as arbitrator

and ruling power in Europe.

In France in the early thirties there were some realis-

tically thinking politicians who understood that the British

game of maintaining the balance of power could end disas-

trously for France. Barthou, the French Foreign Minister,

realised this particularly clearly. He came out in favour of

a Franco-Soviet pact against Nazi aggression, and for admis-

sion of the USSR to the League of Nations.

To put pressure on the French and to underline for the

Nazis’ benefit Britain's readiness to reach agreement with

them on levels of armaments, London brought out a Memo-

randum which recognised what Eden refers to as “the inevi-

tability of some German rearmament”. In it the British

Government declared once again that Germany should

be allowed to have an army 200,000 strong; it was also

proposed that she should be allowed to have tanks. To make

these concessions acceptable to public opinion, the Memo-

randum stated that they were vital if agreement was to be

reached on a convention that would control armament

levels for a ten-year period. Re-armament to achieve disar-

mament—such was the logic of the British position. Fifty

years on, the same logic will still be determining, in the

second half of the 20th century, the position adopted by

Britain in discussions on disarmament.

The Memorandum was debated in the House of Commons.

This again put pressure on France, offered approving ges-

tures towards Germany, and served to disorientate the Brit-

ish people. The proposals contained in the Memorandum

were rational, declared Simon as Foreign Secretary, Germany

must be assured of her right to “equality in armaments’.

Ife announced that Eden would soon be leaving to visit

Paris, Rome and Berlin, in order to discuss the British

proposals. Bardens remarks that “John Simon’s speech

reads as if some great gift were being offered to the British;

how good of Messrs. Hitler and Mussolini to consider disar-

mament—this despite the fact that both countries were

known to be arming to the teeth.”

Eden spoke in the debate in the House, defending the

Memorandum in its entirety. “We believe,” he said, “that

the general balance of the document is just, and therefore

it should be maintained and not be departed from.” In his

Memoirs Eden makes no reference to this speech. And with

good reason. As Bardens says: “The comments of Attlee and

Cripps [the Labour spokesmen] ... were a warning to the

llouse that ‘appeasement’ ... had already begun—as it

had.”

It may seem fair to ask whether perhaps there was no

knowledge in London of Nazi Germany’s intentions, and

whether ignorance of this helped to produce the assistance

thus given to the practical realisation of those intentions”

The documents make it plain that such was not the case.

Just when the Memorandum was published, in January

1934, the British Government had received an important

report from its Ambassador to Germany, Eric Phipps.

The Ambassador reported that the regime which had replaced

the Weimar Republic “might at some future date precip-

itate an international conflict, for Nazi Germany believes

neither in the League [of Nations] nor in negotiation”.

Hitler’s policy, wrote Phipps, had four aims: annexation

of Austria, re-establishment of the eastern frontiers, expan-

sion towards the south and east, and the recovery of some

colonies. If Hitler found that he was arousing no real oppo-

sition, the pace of his advance would increase; on the other

hand, if he were vigorously opposed, he was unlikely at

this stage to risk a break. Eden himsclf admits that the

Ambassador “thought Germany still sufficiently conscious

of her weakness and isolation to be halted by a united front

abroad”.

So the British Government was excellently well informed

of Hitler’s aggressive plans, of the fact that these directly

threatened Britain, and of the further fact that Hitler

could be stopped if no more help was given him and a united

front of states against aggression was formed. It is worthy

of note that Soviet diplomacy made an analogous assessment

of the situation in Europe, and proposed the same measures

against aggression.

The British Government concealed its Ambassador's

observations from Parliament and from the public, and

continued to act in diametric opposition to them. Eden

packed his bag to pay calls on Hitler and Mussolini. Why

did London act thus contrary to common sense? Because

British leaders were blinded by hatred of the USSR, and

Hitler’s plans included German aggression in the East.

On February 16, 1934, Anthony Eden set out on his

first tour of European capitals as a British Government

Minister. He was accompanied by Chief Foreign Office

Adviser, William Strang, a capable, energetic and still

young civil servant, who was a master at preparing drafts

for documents and speeches of all kinds and who later made

a brilliant diplomatic career; Parliamentary Private Secre-

tary, Lord Cranborne, he inherited the title of the Marquesses

Salisbury, one of the most influential families in England,

then and now; Private Secretary, Robert Hankey, son of

the well-known statesman of that name. The party was seen

off in style: John Simon came to the station, as did the

French, German and Italian Ambassadors, and a personal

representative from the Prime Minister. All underlining

the importance which was attributed to the visit undertaken.

In the Nazi capital Eden was met with demonstrative

warmth and ceremony. In the course of his conversation

with Hitler they discussed the details of armament levels

for various countries. The Fuhrer, insisting on an army of

300,000 for Germany, was persistent in bringing up the

“Soviet menace” to alarm the British Minister: “Russia must

never be forgotten; if she is not a threat today she will be

a terrible one tomorrow.” The Nazis would for long continue

to press this idea, in different variants, on the representa-

tives of London, Paris and Washington, and these all would

hasten to swallow the anti-Soviet bait, hook, line and sinker.

No specific agreements were reached, but friendly contact

had been established. Hitler made a good impression on

Eden. He came to a dinner at the British Embassy accom-

panied by Neurath, Hess and Goebbels. Eden revelled in

the marked attention paid to him personally by the Nazi

leaders.

That attention was simply explained. Eden was the

firsL member of government from a Great Power who had

come to Berlin to meet the Fuhrer. His coming raised the

prestige of the Nazi leader in the eyes of the German people

and of the outside world. The moral and political gain to

the Nazi regime was beyond doubt. And it was in these

first years of its existence that the regime particularly

needed such support, so some marked expressions of hospi-

tality were a small price to pay. Before long the Nazis

would grow arrogant, and would refuse to treat the emissa-

ries of London and Paris with so much as common courtesy.

But that was still in the future. Reading the letter which

Kden wrote to Stanley Baldwin on February 21, one cannot

help but be struck by his mistaken assessment of the Fuhrer

from the point of view of politics and subsequent Anglo-

German relations, also by the sympathetic impression

which Eden promptly formed of Hitler. “He [Hitler] is

a surprise,” we read. “In conversation quiet, almost shy

with a pleasant smile. Without doubt the man has charm...

1 find it very hard to believe that the man himself wants

war.” In a letter to Simon we find Anthony stating: “Of one

thing I am confident, the new Germany of Hitler and Goeb-

bels is to be preferred to the old of Bulow.” And lastly,

in a letter to MacDonald: “I think that we can trust the

Chancellor [Hitler] not to go back on his word.”

These feelings and judgements show Eden as being of the

same spiritual and political family as those in Britain who

later went down in history as the organisers of the “appease-

ment” of fascism.

In politics everything balances out in the final count.

Assisting to raise the prestige of the fascist dictators had

its counter-entry against London. The price of “appease-

ment”! Eden had his attention drawn to this by Daladier,

the French Foreign Minister, who remarked that the British

habit of bearding the lion in its den meant a loss of prestige

for the visitor.

From Berlin Eden went on to Rome. This was his first

meeting with Mussolini. The Italian Duce was supporting

Hitler’s demands on German armament. In Rome, unlike

Berlin, the welcome given to Eden was cool: Mussolini

did not attend a dinner given in his honour, and Eden left

a day earlier than he had intended.

By and large, Eden’s talks in Berlin and Rome produced

no practical results. But they showed the British Govern-

ment’s readiness to move along the road of “appeasing”

fascism.

On September 17, 1934, the Soviet Union entered the

League of Nations. “The lead and drive [towards ensuring

acceptance of the USSR as a League member—V.7.],”

Eden writes, “have, however, come from France, personified

by her Foreign Secretary.” Britain made no objection

against the USSR becoming a member. On the occasion

of the acceptance of the Soviet Union to the League of

Nations Eden made a speech declaring that this would

make the League more nearly universal.

This was not merely an act of formal courtesy on the part

of the British Government. With every year that passed

the Soviet Union was becoming a more and more mighty

power. And though, as Eden notes, “Soviet military power

was greatly underrated up to the hour of the German inva-

sion”, British politicians could not entirely discount “the

Soviet card” in their diplomatic game. Watching the Franco-

Soviet rapprochement with annoyance and dissatisfaction,

those in London felt it was essential to leave the German

Government not quite sure that agreement between the

USSR and Britain was an impossibility. They argued that

it could on occasion be a good thing to scare the Germans

with the idea of a possible agreement between Britain and

the USSR, just to make the Germans more amenable. Hence

the British support for Soviet membership of the League

of Nations, and some other acts which will be mentioned

later.

The year 1935 was full of major international events.

It was a very important year for Anthony Eden too. His

name became a daily and accustomed sight not only in

the British press, but world-wide. It was amazing how his

popularity grew. He never put forward controversial ideas,

he created no precedents by any of his actions, his speeches

had no bite. As Bardens so picturesquely puts it, where

Churchill “called a spade a spade”, “Eden would perhaps

describe it as ‘an implement with which all of us, no doubt,

are familiar’. Yet oddly enough, notes Bardens, the world

saw him as a fresh and energetic young man, not yet disil-

lusioned, a welcome contrast to the insincere academism

of John Simon, the self-satisfied complacency of Baldwin,

the intrigues of the swarthy-faced Laval, the boastful

ranting of Mussolini and the threats of Hitler.

One must be fair, though, to the young Minister—he was

very hard-working. He worked himself to the point of exhaus-

tion and never took time off. His constant travels left him

little time to spend with his family. His wife referred to

herself as “a diplomat’s widow”. He had two sons growing

up: Simon, born in 1925, and Nicholas, born in 1930. Some-

limes the Edens and their children went to stay with their

relatives at Warwick Castle or at Windlestone. But the

former glory was departed. Windlestone was no longer

maintained in apple-pie order as it used to be. Eden’s father

had died. His mother had aged, and occupied her time with

charitable works.

When Eden was detained in London on business he would

go to his study in the evenings to be alone and do some

reading. But often the “red boxes” would arrive with docu-

ments from the Foreign Office (these resembled the attaché

cases now in fashion) and his book would have to be laid

aside. On the rare evenings when he was free Eden would

visit his club. This was of course the Carlton Club, whose

members are Conservative MPs and would-be MPs. There

the conversation would be with colleagues, and inevitably

about politics. If there was a chance to go to the cinema,

Eden would choose a comedy, but more often than not

Beatrice had to go without her husband. On Sundays the

family would attend church. Anthony would listen atten-

tively to the words of prayer that he knew by heart.

Eden was fond of sport, especially tennis al week-ends.

In Geneva he would get his secretaries out of bed at 7 in

the morning to play a game of tennis before the meetings

began. However, there was no regular pattern of action.

Working in foreign affairs meant constant travel, and Eden

spent a considerable portion of his time in transcontinental

railway carriages.

At the beginning of 1935 Eden was once again on his

travels round the capitals of Europe. These visits were dic-

tated by a British governmental decision to try and get

a general agreement concluded with Nazi Germany in the

very near future. As the policy of “appeasement” proceeded,

a regular order of events was established as follows: each

concession to the aggressive power was followed by new,

ever more far-reaching demands from the latter; “appease-

ment” produced results the opposite of those intended.

In January 1935 the Saar region, which was under League

of Nations mandate, was returned to Germany following

the result of a plebiscite. As British representative at the

League, Eden was directly concerned with this. Broadcast-

ing from Geneva on January 18, he declared that “the

League of Nations may justifiably be congratulated upon

the peaceful discharge of its anxious responsibility [for the

Saar]”. Strange matter for congratulation. May it not be

connected with what the British Ambassador Phipps had

written a year earlier: “Once the Saar had returned to the

Reich, Hitler’s objective would be a rectification of the

eastern frontiers and expansion southwards and eastwards.”

Following the return of the Saar to Germany, two weeks

had not passed before Eric Phipps reported to London:

“I feel it my duty to warn you that the result of the Saar

plebiscite has been to render Herr Hitler more independent

and the omens less propitious for the success of any negotia-

tions with this country.” The British Government reacted

to this report by speeding up its measures to reach agree-

ment with Germany.

On February 3, 1935, a joint Anglo-French communique

was issued in which both governments refused to recognise

Germany’s right to depart unilaterally from the Treaty

of Versailles, i.e. its right to re-arm without their permis-

sion, and at the same time proposed that Germany should

reach agreement with them on “general settlement” of

issues. This was a proposal to replace the Treaty of Ver-

sailles by a new, broad agreement.

The German Government informed the British that it

would prefer to have talks with them on a bilateral basis—

the traditional Nazi tactic of splitting its enemies in order

to weaken their position. But bilateral talks suited the

British very well, for their dream was of an Anglo-German

agreement, veiled by the participation of some other count-

ries. It was agreed that Simon and Eden should go to Berlin

on March 11.

At the same time, the British Government decided to put

some pressure on the Germans to make them more amenable.

This is a tactical ploy frequently used in diplomatic talks.

The pressure was to take the form of a demonstrative estab-

lishment of contact (no more) with the Soviet Union. It was

announced that from Berlin Eden would go to Moscow,

which caused no great reaction in Berlin, where they were

well aware of the true attitude of the British Conservatives

to the USSR.

On March 4 a government White Paper was published

in London, which proposed that an additional £10 million

(a trifling sum) be spent on building up Britain’s Armed

Forces. The necessity of such a measure was motivated by

German re-armament that could create a threat to peace.

Berlin replied by announcing that the British emissaries’

visit was to be postponed, since Hitler had a cold. A classic

case of the diplomatic illness!

But the worst was still to come. On March 9 the govern-

ment in Berlin announced that Germany now had a Luft-

walfe, and on March 16, that compulsory military service

was being introduced, and that a regular army of 36 divi-

sions, totalling 550 thousand men, was in formation. Hitler

was brazenly and unilaterally tearing up the Treaty of

Versailles. The Nazis were taking for themselves that which

the London politicians were preparing to grant them as the

outcome of a “general agreement”. The Nazis took this action

in full confidence that they would get away with it com-

pletely—Hitler had learned the lesson from the policy of

“appeasement”. Even if he did have any doubts on the mat-

ter, British ruling circles took the trouble to dispel them

in advance. The Times published a letter from a well-known

“appeaser”, Lord Lothian, which censured the White Paper

and justified the actions of the German Government. Stan-

ley Baldwin declared in the House of Commons that the

blame for the arms race should not be laid on Germany alone.

An idea correct in itself, but expressed in such a way as to

give support to the Nazis.

Soon the question arose: what was to happen about Si-

mon’s and Eden’s postponed visit to Llitler? Eden wrote

later that Berlin should have been told that since the

Germans had unilaterally torn up their obligations on the

eve of the visit, the latter was therefore pointless, and to be

postponed indefinitely. But the “appeasers” were stubborn

folk—they had had their eye spat in, but pretended not

to notice. And the British Cabinet decided: to make a pro-

test to Berlin about defiance of treaty obligations, and ... to

go ahead with the Simon-Eden visit.

Lewis Broad has this to say on the subject: “The French

were taken aback. British sympathizers on the Continent

were distressed. Did the Foreign Secretary not realize what

damage he was doing to waning British prestige? The very

logic of the situation seemed to require that Britain should

decline to seek any new agreement with the Leader of a state

who did not honour the signature of his predecessors...

Did Hitler still want the visit?—it was superfluous to ask.

What more could he have hoped for at that moment:

A British visit to Berlin must in the circumstances imply

tacit consent to German treaty-breaking. The fact of the

visit was sufficient for Hitler’s purpose. Ileaffably consent-

ed to receive the visitors.”

But their reception was far from courteous. Hitler refused

to agree to the British proposal that Germany should

return to the League of Nations, reiterated his intention of

building up an army half a million strong, a Luftwaffe

and a navy, and presented his visitors with territorial

demands, expressed in threatening if muted tones, affecting

Austria, Czechoslovakia and Memel. He further demanded

the return of Germany’s former colonies. Any talk of a Cen-

tral European or Eastern European pact was brushed aside:

the Nazis did not want their hands tied. The Fihrer accom-

panied all this with insistent warnings of the “Soviet

threat”.

Hitler’s demands reduced Simon and Eden to confusion.

They were prepared to “appease” aggressors, but not quite

to that extent, and certainly not at the expense of British

interests. Summing up his impressions of the Berlin talks,

Eden wrote in his diary: “Result bad ... whole tone and tim-

bre very different to a year ago, rearmed and rearming with

the old Prussian spirit very much in evidence.”

At an official dinner in honour of the British emissaries

the talk turned to the First World War. It emerged that

in March 1918 Eden and Hitler had been on the same sec-

tor of the front, opposite one another. They drew a map

on the back of a dinner card “which I still possess, signed

by both of us”, wrote Eden in 1962. After the dinner the

French Ambassador, Francois-Poncet, asked Eden whether

it was true that he had been opposite Hitler. “I replied it

seemed so. ‘Et vous l’avez manqué? Vous devriez étre

fusille!’”

From Berlin Simon returned to London, while Eden went

on to Moscow—to establish contact.

From the point of view of diplomatic protocol it was far

from unimportant which of the British Ministers went to

Moscow. Even MacDonald, according to Eden, “thought

it wrong that two Ministers should go to the German capital

and one to Moscow... On the face of it, there was something

in this, but the Russians made no difficulty.” True, the

Soviet Government was concerned enough about collective

security to ignore petty provocations on the part of its

enemies.

During the Cabinet meeting at which the Moscow trip

was discussed, Stanley Baldwin passed a note to Eden with

humorous suggestions of what he would need to take with

him to Moscow. The list included: two dozen bottles of

whisky, two dozen siphons of soda water, a case of dry

champagne, tinned sardines, tinned corned beef and tinned

vegetables...

On more than one occasion it has been demonstrated that

propaganda sometimes forms the views not only of those

for whom it is intended, but of those who are issuing it.

Politically this is very dangerous, since it leads to a false

estimate of the opponent. Of course it was not of serious

importance that the Conservatives thought they had to

take their own carrots and soda water to Moscow. But when

they gave themselves a false idea of the power of the USSR,

it led to a number of major miscalculations.

On March 27, 1935, Eden left Berlin by special train,

on his (to use his own words) “leprous journey”. He was

tired, he tried to read the textbook of Russian which his

wife had provided for the journey, but he soon gave that

up. At the frontier a special Soviet train awaited him. Much

later Eden recalled the comfort in which he had travelled

through Soviet territory, and the menu provided in the

restaurant car, something which completely contradicted

the forecasts of Stanley Baldwin.

None the less, when Eden does recall ;his,first visit to

Moscow, he splutters over anything and everything. He does

not like the way he was met at the station, he does not

approve of the way the British flags had been made, he

even complains about the sky over Moscow. “The dismal

two-mile drive from the station to the Embassy left a lasting

impression upon me,” he says. “Large, drab crowds... The

weather, the streets, the people, all seemed grey, sad and

unending.” The British Minister’s prejudice and hostility

towards the USSR would not let him see the Soviet capital

and its people in their true light. Only the Kremlin, which

is clearly seen from the British Embassy building on the

Sofiiskaya Embankment, appealed to Eden: “Elegant in its

lovely soft rose colour, there are few more beautiful sights

in the world.”

Present at the talks, along with Eden, were Strang, Chief

Foreign Office Adviser, who took detailed notes of the

proceedings, and Chilston, the British Ambassador to the

USSR. On the Soviet side the spokesmen were J. V. Stalin

and M. M. Litvinov.

The talks soon got down to business. Eden reported to

his government that the Soviet representatives lad an excel-

lent grasp of international affairs. Later he had to admit

that the prognoses they made on the prospective develop-

ment of international relations were considerably more

accurate than the assessments formed by the British Govern-

ment.

Eden raised the question of sanctioning the re-armament

of Germany to a definite level. He was told that the Soviet

Union did not consider it possible to permit legalisation

of German armaments. It was explained to him that it was

not a matter of correcting injustices in the Treaty of Ver-

sailles, but of German preparations for aggression. These were

two quite separate things. “We cannot close our eyes to

the fact that Germany is re-arming in order to attack,”

the Soviet leaders declared. “We must therefore take mea-

sures now to prevent Germany re-arming herself!”

Eden tried to convince his opponents that they were

exaggerating Germany’s aggressive intentions. The answer

given him was that the Soviet Government had no slightest

doubt as to Germany’s aggressive intent, since German

foreign policy was inspired by two ideas—that of revanche,

and that of domination in Europe. Less than five years

were to pass before life demonstrated the entire correctness

of this assessment.

It was very well understood in Moscow that British poli-

ticians wanted to instigate Germany to attack the USSR.

So Eden was warned that anyone relying on this might get

his fingers badly burned. “At present,” he was told, “it is

too early to say in which direction Germany intends to aim

her blow first. In particular, it is quite possible, more

probable even, that the first blow will be struck not against

the USSR... In general, Hitler is trying, by putting expan-

sion to the Kast in the forefront of his propaganda, to hook

the Western states and get them to sanction his armaments.

When those armaments reach the level Hitler desires, the

guns may start firing in quite a different direction.” History

showed how exact that forecast too was.

Eden was not left in ignorance of the interpretation put

in the USSR on the British policy of “appeasement”. On the

one hand, there was Germany with her plainly aggressive

intentions. On the other, there was a number of states at-

tempting to halt Germany. Britain, by not wishing to

support these attempts, was ipso facto giving support to

Germany.

In his talks with Soviet leaders Eden behaved with ex-

treme caution. When he was due to meet Stalin alone, he was

concerned to make sure that he had a witness of his own

present at the conversation. And this is why: “I knew that

there were colleagues at home who were against the visit

and against me, too, for that matter, and I wanted his

[Chilston’s] authoritative witness to my words.”

In the course of this talk J. V. Stalin asked Eden whether

he considered the present European situation more alarming

than the situation in 1913. Eden replied: “I would use the

word ‘anxious’ rather than ‘alarming’. The existence of

the League of Nations, of which every European power but

Germany is a member, is an advantage of importance which

we lacked before the war.” Stalin replied: “I agree on the

value of the League, but I think the international situation

is nevertheless fundamentally worse. In 1913 there was

only one potential aggressor, Germany. Today there are

two, Germany and Japan.” Eden was to sum up the matter

thus: “Future events were soon to justify these words.”

8—~01222 81

At the end of the visit a joint communique was agreed

upon. British diplomats make it a rule to draw up, whenever

possible, their own document and get it accepted as the

basis for subsequent discussion. This is held to have certain

advantages. This occasion was no exception. Eden brought

along a draft communique. The Soviet side proposed a num-

ber of amendments, and the discussion was prolonged. It

continued even in the intervals at the Bolshoi Theatre,

where Eden was seeing the ballet The Three Fat Men on

his last day in Moscow, and practically up to the last minute

before the departure of the special train taking the Brit-

ish representative back from Moscow. This lengthy discus-

sion over the text of the communique was only natural.

Such documents are always the product of compromise,

and the parties concerned have to decide how much compro- |

mise is, for them, admissible.

Historians have since remarked on the pithiness of the

communique as finally issued, and how well it compared in

this respect with the majority of such documents. The com- |

munique noted that at that time there was no conflict of the |

interests between Britain and the Soviet Union on any of |

the main issues of international policy, and that this fact |

provided a firm foundation for the development of fruitful

cooperation between the two countries in the cause of peace.

Both countries undertook to govern their mutual relations

by the spirit of cooperation, in particular in the common

efforts for establishing an organisation to maintain collective

security and peace.

Diplomatic communiques reflect the real positions of the

parties issuing them in varying ways. They are capable of

expressing with precision the actual interests and intentions

of the parties, but they may also leave a lot unsaid, i.e.

not indicate fully the intentions of the parties on certain

questions. And lastly, such communiques sometimes state

more, for tactical reasons, than the signatories intend to

perform. The criterion, which will indicate to what extent

the theses of a communique represent reality, is provided

by the acts of foreign policy undertaken by the governments

concerned.

Viewed in this light, the communique on Eden’s visit

to the USSR in March 1935 reflects quite precisely, it must

be admitted, the position of Moscow, and does not corre-

spond to the true position of London.

The Soviet Union did indeed consider that it had no radi-

cal differences with Britain, but British ruling circles held

that the very existence of a socialist state ran counter to

the vital interests of their country. The Soviet Government

wished to cooperate with the British Government in the

creation of a system of collective security, while the British

Government by its policy of “appeasement” of the aggressors

was thwarting the efforts of the Soviet and other govern-

ments which wished to take collective measures to preserve

peace. The culmination of “appeasement” was Munich.

[f Moscow wished to be guided, in its bilateral relations

with Britain, by the spirit of cooperation, London’s policy

was Characterised by consistent hostility towards the USSR,

which brought Britain eventually, at the beginning of

1940, to the decision to start a war, jointly with France,

against the Soviet Union (this was prevented by events

over which the British Government had no control).

Let us admit that London, in sending Eden to the USSR,

had strictly limited aims—to discover the mood of Moscow,

and to show the Germans that Britain might choose to

improve its relations with the USSR. Even so, the visit

had considerable significance. It was an indication that the

international weight of the Soviet state had increased to the

point where even British Conservatives could not help but

take it into account. The talks enabled the Soviet side to

expound once more to the British Government and, to some

extent, to world public opinion also, the Soviet Union’s

peace-loving foreign policy concept.

The talks with the Soviet leaders made a strong impression

on Eden. On his return from Moscow he said that whatever

may be thought of the experiment being conducted in Soviet

Russia he had never been in any country which was so fully

occupied with work at home for many years to come.

Eden’s visit denoted a certain shift in Soviet-British

relations. But the attitude towards the USSR then prevail-

ing in the British Government prevented realisation of the

possibilities which the visit opened up. In Britain at that

time it was the almost universal opinion that Soviet mili-

tary might was disorganised and of low quality. This was

a clear case of blindness induced by one’s own propaganda

having serious political consequences. But the warnings

given to Eden in Moscow on the dangers of the British

Government s line in foreign policy fell, as they say, on

deaf ears. The policy of “appeasement” went on.

Subsequently, when history had established the unwisdom

6 83

of Britain “appeasing” Nazi Germany and maintaining

hostility to the USSR in the thirties, Eden tried to make

use of his Moscow visit as a means of touching up his own

political portrait. This is the aim pursued in the section of

his Memoirs dealing with his first visit to the Soviet capital.

David Carlton remarks in this connection that readers of

his Memoirs “might be led to suppose that in the mid-1930s

Eden was much more well-disposed toward the Soviet

Union than most of his colleagues in the British Govern-

ment. The reality may have been different. True, he was

not a vocal public critic of the Soviet Union in this period...

But in private his views differed little from those of Bald-

win, Neville Chamberlain and other supposedly more anti-

communist colleagues... It was not until 1939 that he showed

any marked enthusiasm for close cooperation with Moscow—

a change of mind.”

From June 1935 the membership of the British Cabinet

was to be somewhat different. The “National” Government

was re-shuffled. The Labour man MacDonald and the Liber-

al Simon were replaced by Conservatives: Baldwin became

Prime Minister officially as well as in practice, and Samuel

Hoare became Foreign Secretary.

This re-shuffle affected Eden very feelingly. When re-

organisation of the government first began to be talked of,

he had no doubts that the Foreign Office portfolio would

be given to him. Having waited for some time for the prop-

osition to be put to him, he then decided to raise the

matter himself. Eden went to Baldwin and asked that he

should not be left as “second string” to another Minister

at the Foreign Office, adding that if the worst came to the

worst he would be prepared to take the Admiralty. Baldwin

promised to think about it. A little later Eden was rung up

by Maurice Hankey, Secretary to the Cabinet, who congrat-

ulated him on getting the Foreign Office, which, he said,

was a settled thing. When later the same day, in the House,

Baldwin touched Eden on the shoulder and said they must

have few words together, Eden was sure he knew what about.

One can imagine his disappointment when he heard that

Hoare was to be Foreign Secretary, while he, Eden, was

being asked to remain at the Foreign Office as Minister for

League of Nations Affairs, with a seat in the Cabinet. Eden

started to protest but, as he himself recalls, Baldwin “in

spite of our friendship ... thought me a little unreasonable...

’After all ... it isn’t everyone who has the chance to be

in the Cabinet before he is thirty-eight.’” There was nothing

Eden could do but agree to it.

Actually it was not Baldwin’s fault that Eden’s dream

had not as yet come true. It was Neville Chamberlain

that was coming to carry more and more weight in the

Conservative Party leadership. He insisted that Hoare,

who had proved his worth at the India Office, should be

given the Foreign Office. Another very influential personage,

Geoffrey Dawson, Editor of The Times, also put in his

word for Hoare. The upper echelons of the Conservatives

considered that Hoare would be better at carrying through

the policy of “appeasement” than would Eden.

Ten days after the formation of the new Cabinet Britain,

without informing France beforehand, signed an agreement

with Germany under which Germany was to be allowed to

build a fleet equivalent to 35 per cent of the total tonnage

of the navies of the British Commonwealth of Nations,

and maintain a submarine fleet of tonnage equal to the

entire tonnage of the Commonwealth’s submarines. These

provisions rescinded the corresponding clauses in the Treaty

of Versailles. If previously Germany had unilaterally bro-

ken that treaty, she was now doing so in concert with

Britain.

Although Eden had taken no part in the talks dealing

with German naval strength, he was given the job of going

to Paris to reassure the alarmed government of France.

Eden tried to convince Laval, the French Foreign Minister,

that all the actions of the British were in the interests of

France as well as of Britain, but he did not have much

success. On June 21 he telegraphed a message to London

that the Anglo-German Naval Agreement was being viewed

negatively in Paris.

It is in this period that Eden makes his second “pilgrim-

age to Rome”, the visit to Mussolini which marks the begin-

ning of the next stage in British “appeasement” of the

Italian aggressor. Over a number of years Italian fascism

had been preparing to seize Ethiopia (Abyssinia), an inde-

pendent state in North-East Africa. After an armed clash,

engineered by Italy on the border between Ethiopia and

talian Somaliland, it was clear to world public opinion

that Italy would soon start full-scale war against Ethiopia.

Both countries were members of the League of Nations.

Settlement of the conflict was thus the direct responsibility

of the League. It was clear that if even now the League

took no effective measures against the aggressor, it was

signing its own death warrant and would cease to have

any international authority whatsoever. Nevertheless, the

ruling circles of Britain were so anxious to develop and

strengthen their collaboration with Mussolini that they

immediately came out on Italy’s side, in spite of the fact

that Italy’s seizure of Ethiopia would obviously damage

British positions in that area.

The British press did al] it could to slander Ethiopia

and provide excuses in advance for fascist brigandage.

The New Statesman—a Labour weekly—stated that Abys-

sinia was a “barbarous” country. The Conservative National

Review wrote that Britain had “great interests in Europe

and it is important to us ... that Italy should not be weak-

ened by colonial difficulties”. Lady Houston, the owner

of another Conservative journal, the Saturday Review,

telegraphed Mussolini to say: “English patriots present

their homage to Mussolini, the greatest patriot in the world—

for his aim for Italy is to build up and achieve... English

patriots hope Mussolini will stand fast and damn the League

of Nations—which only exists to enable Russian Bolshe-

vism to destroy civilization.” “Many right-wing Conserva-

tives,” Thompson notes, “shared Lady Houston’s general

sentiments, though they hesitated to express them in such

categorical terms.”

And the position of the government itself? At a conference

in Stresa in April 1935 MacDonald and Simon had offered

Mussolini tacit agreement to his aggression against Ethio-

pia. A second encouragement to the Duce was the speech

made in Parliament by Hoare as the new Foreign Secretary.

He urged MPs to dismiss from their minds the rumours,

altogether without foundation, that Britain intended,

together with the French Government, to resort to certain

measures against Italy, “a country which has been our

friend since the Risorgimento”.

Being anxious to satisfy Mussolini, the British Govern-

ment thought up the following plan: Ethiopia cedes part of

its territory to Italy, and in return for this Britain gives

Ethiopia access to the Red Sea, carving a corridor for this

purpose through the territory of British Somaliland. This was

the plan Eden was commissioned to discuss with Mussolini.

On June 23, 1935, Eden arrived in Rome. Hard as he

tried, he was unable to persuade the Duce to agree to the

British proposal. The fascists needed the whole of Ethiopia

not part of it. Their intentions were clear and definite.

“If I have to resort to war to achieve my ends,” Mussolini

told Eden, “my aim will be to wipe the name of Ethiopia

from the map.”

Eden, distressed by the failure of his mission, discussed

the results of the meeting with the British Ambassador in

Rome, Eric Drummond, and they came to the conclusion

that a report must be sent to London, and those in London

“would now have to determine their course between uphold-

ing the League and losing an ally [Italy, that is], or under-

mining the foundation of peace in Europe”. Eden’s Cabinet

colleagues unhesita tingly chose the second course.

But when Eden reported publicly to the House of Com-

mons on his rendezvous with Mussolini, he indicated in

general terms the proposals made by the British Govern-

ment to Italy, but said nothing—according to his own

account of the matter—about Mussolini’s demands. Once

again, as on how many previous occasions, we see public

opinion being misled! Parliament is told of proposals

which have already lost all meaning, while the essence of

the matter is left unspoken.

Yet British public opinion was profoundly alarmed by

the growing threat to peace—Japanese aggression in China,

the coming to power of the Nazis in Germany, the collapse

of the farce with disarmament, and the loudly publicised

Italian preparations to attack Ethiopia. A large number of

pacifist organisations held a Peace Ballot. Its results were

announced on June 27, 1935: 14 million Britons had voted

in favour of British participation in the League of Nations,

and for reduction of armaments. The vast majority said

they were in favour of economic sanctions, and if necessary

military sanctions, being applied to aggressors. It was an

impressive weight of opinion demanding of the British

Government that it support the League of Nations, put up

an effective fight against aggression, and take part in col-

lective measures to preserve international security. This in

itself was an outright condemnation by the British people

of the policy of, “appeasement”.

These attitudes on the part of the broad masses of the

population caused especial alarm to the Conservatives

because a General Election was due very shortly. At this

Stage the government, in order to maintain themselves in

Power, organised a political deception of grandiose dimensions.

Before he left for Geneva, where discussion of the Italo-

Ethiopian conflict was due to take place, Eden was given

no clear instructions. He found himself in a difficult posi-

tion: on the most important problem then facing the League

of Nations, he had to make do with vague, ambiguous

statements.

And in Geneva everyone was waiting for a clear formula-

tion of London’s position. “Avenol, the Secretary General,”

Eden writes, “told me that almost every delegate had instruc-

tions to follow the British lead. Litvinov, who was in the

chair, suggested to me privately that the Council as a body

should declare that it was prepared to carry out its obliga-

tions under the Covenant.” All Eden could do was avoid

giving a straight answer to such approaches. “I am simply

dreading these conversations,” he frankly admitted, writing

to one of his Cabinet colleagues, Ormsby Gore.

The vague declarations made by the British were a great

surprise to the Italian representative at the League, Aloisi.

He told Eden that in Rome no one had expected that London

would take up such a stance. They had good reason to be

surprised, on the basis of quite recent factual evidence.

When the unarmed Ethiopia, under threat from an Italy

armed to the teeth (the British had earlier been supplying

it with arms), sent a request to London for the supply of

small arms at least, that request was refused.

There then took place an event which surprised many.

Samuel Hoare arrived in Geneva to speak at the League

of Nations. When Eden saw the text of his speechin advance,

he was amazed: Hoare was proposing to take up a radi-

cally anti-Italian position, Eden wanted to suggest some

alterations to make the Foreign Secretary’s speech less

unequivocal, but Hoare set them firmly aside, saying that

Baldwin and Neville Chamberlain had studied the text

of the speech very carefully, and approved it.

On September 11 Hoare solemnly declared to the Assem-

bly of the League of Nations that “the League stands, and

my country stands with it, for the collective maintenance

of the Covenant in its entirety, and particularly for steady

and collective resistance to all acts of unprovoked aggres-

sion”. The conflict between Italy and Ethiopia, he said,

was no exception.

The Peace Ballot vote against the government’s policy

was turned into one in favour of that policy. But that was

not the biggest lie in Hoare’s speech. The main trick

emerged later.

Thompson writes: “It is fairly clear that the National

Government’s decision to give unqualified support to the

League was prompted by the public mood as expressed

in the Peace Ballot and by the fact that a General Election

was due before November 1936.” This assessment is shared

by many bourgeois historians both in Britain and abroad.

It is confirmed by a confidential conversation between

Neville Chamberlain and Leopold Amery, which the latter

recorder in his diary thus: “We were bound to try out the

League of Nations (in which he [i.e. Chamberlain} does

not himself believe very much) for political reasons at

home... There was no question of our going beyond the

mildest of economic sanctions such as an embargo on the

purchase of Italian goods or the sale of munitions to Italy...

If things become too serious the French would run out of

things first and we could show that we had done our best.”

Just in case Mussolini might, unlikely though that was,

take Hoare’s speech literally, i.e. as indicating a change

in Britain’s foreign policy line, Hoare sent the Duce “a friend-

ly personal message”, as Eden informs us. In the light of

these facts it is hardly surprising that A. J.P. Taylor

describes the actions of the British Government at the

League of Nations in September-October 1935 as “a triumph

of hypocrisy”.

Hoare’s speech changed the mood of the British voters

in favour of the Conservatives, and a General Election was

called for November 14, 1935. In its election manifesto the

Tory Party swore it was faithful to the League of Nations,

assuring all that “in the present unhappy dispute between

Italy and Abyssinia there will be no wavering in the policy

we have hitherto pursued”. Thus suggesting to the electorate

that their policy so far had been to restrain aggres-

Sors.

The big lie worked. The Conservatives won 387 seats

in the House of Commons. These, plus those of supporters,

gave them a majority of 247 Parliamentary votes. The

Labour Party was able to get only 154 Members of Parlia-

ment returned. The election of 1935 gave the Conservatives

power for the next ten years in effect.

Eden was “the man of the hour”, making great play in

his speeches with the hopes which the Conservatives pinned

on the League of Nations. In the eyes of the public he sym-

bolised active British resistance to aggression through the

League of Nations, This suited the Conservatives very

nicely: Eden was their man, and his» merits were grist to

the Tory mill.

At a ceremony when Eden was given the freedom of the

borough of Leamington, Stanley Baldwin was among those

present. In his speech on this occasion Eden said: “It is

fashionable for politicians to look forward to retirement—

to pigs, poultry and a pot of ale by the hearthside [this

with a kindly smile for his leader Baldwin]. I promise to

allow myself no such indulgence. We are all moving into

an era when nations will strive to understand one another.

Through the League alone can we hope to create in the

World that new order as a result of which no nation would

ever contemplate for an instant the use of war as an instru-

ment of national policy. We are ready at all times to play

our part in the maintenance of peace...” In Britain political

life has its own rules. Eden was saying what he knew his

audience wanted to hear.

Hoare’s speech did not, naturally, stop Mussolini, nor

was it intended to. On October 3, 1935, Italy attacked

Ethiopia. On the very same day a telegram was received

in London, from the English envoy in Addis Ababa, saying

that the first bombs the Italians dropped fell on a building

containing medical stores and equipment, and flying the

flag of the Red Cross. The League of Nations, with the

active participation of the Soviet delegation, passed a reso-

lution recording that Italy had broken her obligations

under the Covenant of the League, and recommending

member states to apply economic sanctions against Italy.

Eden assisted in the passage of this resolution.

Since the Parliamentary election was only a month away

then, the British Government was pursuing three lines:

firstly, it did all it could to postpone the date when the

sanctions were to come into effect, in particular being

obstructive over the establishment of an embargo on oil

exports to Italy; secondly, it worked to retain the possibil-

ity of direct negotiation with Mussolini; thirdly, it pre-

pared a compromise agreement which would satisfy Italian

fascism at the expense of Ethiopia. For this last purpose

Maurice Peterson, head of the Abyssinian Department of the

Foreign Office, was sent to Paris in late October, to work out

with his French opposite number the conditions of a compro-

mise. This was the groundwork for the future Hoare-Laval

agreement. The main part of the work was done in Geneva,

where Eden was actively concerned.

When the Parliamentary elections were over, the search

for peaceful ways of “appeasing” Italian fascism was stepped

up. Eden held a consultation at the Foreign Office to prepare

instructions for Peterson. The latter, carrying on talks in

Paris with Laval, from time to time asked London for

instructions, and Eden provided them. The plan produced

by Peterson and his French colleague Saint-Quentin received

preliminary approval from the British Government.

At the beginning of December Samuel Hoare, on his way

to a holiday in Switzerland, stopped off in Paris and together

with Laval accepted this plan, which provided for the

dismemberment of Ethiopia and its transference, for all

practical purposes, to Italian rule.

But events followed which had not been intended by the

British Government. Laval, eager to get in ahead of his

British accomplices so far as collaborating with Mussolini

was concerned, let a leak of information take place, and the

provisions of the Hoare-Laval plan appeared in the newspa-

pers.

The French Foreign Minister had also wanted to ensure

himself and deprive the British Government of any chance

of going back on the agreement. But the result of the leak

was quite different. International opinion was outraged.

Just previously the British had been rejoicing over the

firm stance taken up by their government towards Italian

aggression, less than a month before they had voted for

that government in the election because they saw it as

supporting the League of Nations and providing a firm

bulwark to defend any victim of aggression—and now they

learned that that same government was selling poor unfor-

tunate Ethiopia to Italian fascism. So the speeches of the

British representatives at the League and the election

speeches of the Conservative leaders were premeditated

perfidy? The Conservatives had duped the voters, and the

British Government had tricked world public opinion?

These were the questions that faced every Briton. Conserva-

tive Members of Parliament were overwhelmed by thou-

sands of indignant letters and queries from their constituen-

cies. The indignation among representatives of the various

countries at the League of Nations was no less profound.

And lastly, the British Dominions expressed their dissatis-

faction in no uncertain terms. The Baldwin Government

found itself facing a crisis.

The Conservative leaders were afraid that many Back-

Bench Conservative MPs, under pressure from their constit-

uents, would vote against the government. That threatened

them with having to resign. Baldwin was aware that the

Back-Benchers only needed a leader having authority and

they would come out against the government. There were

two such potential leaders—Winston Churchill and Austen

Chamberlain. Luckily for Baldwin, Churchill was abroad:

he would certainly not have missed the opportunity to try

and get Baldwin out. In order to neutralise Austen Chamber-

lain, Baldwin had a word in his ear: “Austen, when Sam

li.e. Hoare] has gone, I shall want to talk to you about the

Foreign Office.” This bid to buy Austen Chamberlain off

proved successful.

Hoare (who hed contrived to break his nose badly while

skating in Switzerland, had been summoned urgently to

return to London and was now recovering in bed) was asked

to resign. He was made the scapegoat.

On December 91 there was a stormy debate in the House

of Commons. Attlee moved a vote of no confidence in the

government, and declared that not only the honour of

Britain, but that of its Prime Minister was in question.

Then Austen Chamberlain intervened, noting that whatever

differences of opinion there may be among the Conservatives

as to this action or other of the government, the challenge

to the Prime Minister's esteem must be turned down unani-

mously by them all. So Austen Chamberlain had swallowed

the bait dangled before him by Baldwin and came to the

rescue of the government which he hoped to join very

shortly. The debate ended in acceptance of a motion which

rejected the Hoare-Laval plan and reaffirmed the support

of the House for the policy of the Conservative election

manifesto.

The next day Baldwin, as promised, called Austen Cham-

berlain in for a talk about the Foreign Office. But what was

the latter’s surprise when the Prime Minister started explain-

ing to him that as the Foreign Office had broken down men

like Hoare and Vansittart, the man in charge of it must

have “iron nerves”. Nothing could be more terrible for

a man, Baldwin assured him, than to prove unfit for his

work without himself becoming aware of it. It seemed doubt-

ful whether Austen Chamberlain would be able to bear the

heavy load of responsibilities the Foreign Office would lay

on him, and hence no one would believe that his appoint-

ment could be more than temporary.

After this promising introduction, Baldwin asked what

Chamberlain himself thought about it. He replied: “If that

is your opinion, it is conclusive.”

Austen Chamberlain felt he had been shamelessly cheated.

And it was less than tactful of Baldwin to go on to ask him

what he thought of Eden as a candidate for the post. Cham-

berlain merely enquired whether Baldwin thought Eden’s

health was equal to the strain.

Meanwhile Eden was on board a train from Geneva to

London. At Calais the British Consul gave him a request

from Baldwin—to go and see him at Downing Street imme-

diately upon arrival in London, and to see no one else

first.

When Eden appeared, Baldwin asked him whom he could

recommend to be Foreign Secretary. Eden named Austen

Chamberlain—whatever he may have thought privately at

the time, the decencies had to be observed. Baldwin replied

that Austen was no good, he was too old. Then Eden sug-

gested Halifax. Baldwin rejected him too—on the grounds

that he sat in the House of Lords, and the Foreign Secre-

tary ought to be in the Commons. In the end, Baldwin told

Eden: “It looks as if it will have to be you.” Eden recalled

later that the turn of phrase did not please him—it seemed

he was being offered the job only because there was no one

else to do it better.

Baldwin spoke only part of the truth so far as Halifax was

concerned. The point was that Halifax was known as a con-

sistent “appeaser”. And in this hour of crisis Baldwin needed

to demonstrate to the country his supposed faith in the

League of Nations and in collective security, and his readi-

ness (again, supposed) to stand out against the aggressor.

fiden’s reputation met the requirements fully. It was that

which got him the ministerial portfolio for Foreign Affairs.

The Labour New Statesman called his appointment “the

best Christmas present the Prime Minister could have giv-

en us”. Meaning that Eden was a statesman on whom the

hopes of the people could be pinned and who, unlike the

others, would carry out the policy which the people wanted.

That was exactly the reaction to Eden’s appointment which

the government needed; they were trying to get public opin-

ion calmed down after the Hoare-Laval deal, and to get

that incident forgotten.

The newspapers fell over one another to assure their read-

ers that now everything would be different, there would

be a fresh start. “His promotion,” The Times asserted, “an-

swers accurately to the requirements both of public opinion

and of last Thursday’s debates in both Houses. In another

respect the clearly expressed wishes of the House of Commons

are being carried into execution. With Mr. Eden’s appoint-

ment the Government can go forward again...” The same

sentiments were echoed by the semi-official organ of the

Conservatives, The Daily Telegraph: “The very circumstances

out of which the vacancy unhappily arose marked Mr.

Eden out as the most appropriate and reassuring choice.

He is a strong League of Nations man... Hence his appoint-

ment ... should reassure all those whose confidence was shak-

en by the Paris Agreement.”

And yet the reality was very different from the burden of

these ecstatic utterances. In reality Eden bears no less re-

sponsibility for the government’s policy, including the deal

over Ethiopia, than any other member of the Cabinet. The

precise facts are now available to show that on the issue of

the war between Italy and Ethiopia there were no differ-

ences between Eden and his Cabinet colleagues. These

facts show that he bore, indeed, even more guilt for what

had occurred than did many other members of the govern-

ment. Let us recall that he played a part in working out the

“compromise” which was embodied in the Hoare-Laval

agreement; that he organised the presentation at the League

of Nations which misled the League itself, world public

opinion and the British people, regarding the true British

position over Italian aggression: the false hopes thus raised

of curbing the aggressor were nullified by the Hoare-Laval

deal, and the result was that the League was utterly weak-

ened, and the actions of fascist Italy made very much easier.

Aud lastly, it is Eden personally who bears responsibility

for a telegram sent to the Emperor of Ethiopia Haile Se-

lassie (through the British envoy in Addis Ababa) in which

the British Government demanded that the Emperor accept

the Hoare-Laval plan. This telegram was sent at the time

when Eden was in charge of the Foreign Office during

Hoare’s absence in Switzerland.

And Eden’s arrival to take command at the Foreign Of-

fice was far from signalling any change of course in British

foreign policy, any abandonment of “appeasement” of ag-

gressor powers. A. J. P. Taylor writes: “Eden took Hoare’s

place as Foreign Secretary. The Hoare-Laval plan disap-

peared. Otherwise nothing was changed... Compromise was

still in the air; another version of the Hoare-Laval plan

waiting to be produced.”

The League of Nations was never to recover from the

blow dealt it by the British and French Governments through

the production of the Hoare-Laval plan. It continued to

hold sessions for some time yet, the speeches poured forth,

but the faith of nations and governments in the League as

an instrument for preserving peace and security soon faded

away. Such was the end of the first stage in the policy of

“appeasement”, which brought with it, for Anthony Eden,

the Foreign Secretaryship.

Chapter IIf

FOREIGN SECRETARY

IN A GOVERNMENT OF “APPEASERS”

Anthony Eden became Foreign Secretary at the age of 38.

A rarity in British political life that such an important

post should be entrusted to one so young. Eden’s feelings

on the subject were contradictory. Of course he was immense-

ly happy to have thus achieved his main objective. Yet

at the same time Eden could not help but understand that

a great responsibility was falling on his shoulders at a very

difficult moment. The situation was very involved both at

home and abroad.

The government was discredited in the eyes of the elector-

ate. British people felt that the Conservatives had used

sharp practice to hoodwink them at the recent elections. The

personal authority of the Tory leader and Prime Minister,

Stanley Baldwin, was badly damaged, for it was he who

had been the main organiser of the great deception.

International faith in the British Government had also

been badly shaken. Not very long ago, 50 countries at the

League of Nations had answered its call to stand against

Italian aggression and squeeze the aggressor with sanctions.

But a few weeks later that same government had entered

into a shameful deal with that aggressor, thus demonstrat-

ing that its assurances of adherence to the principles of

the League of Nations had been pure hypocrisy. Could one

rely upon such a government’s word? One could not, it was

dangerous to do so! As the British envoy in Belgrade report-

ed, the Hoare-Laval plan had caused “British prestige in

Yugoslavia to slump to zero”.

Relations with France, far from warm even earlier, had

clearly deteriorated: the British Government, in abandon-

ing the deal made with Laval, had done its French asso-

ciates a very bad turn.

The chances of Britain being able to intervene in the

Italo-Ethiopian war and arrange a “compromise” advanta-

geous to herself now looked extremely poor. Since British

prestige had fallen sharply, Mussolini was now less inclined

to pay heed to opinion in London, since he calculated that

he could attain his ends without British collaboration. So

Britain could no longer count on gaining any advantage by

acting as the “honest broker”.

Mussolini’s success, the weakened position of the League

of Nations, the failure of attempts to organise a system of

collective security, wrecked by the intrigues of the British

and French Governments—all these went to strengthen the

positions of Nazi Germany and to stimulate aggressive acts

on her part. Under these conditions it was a stiff assign-

ment to guide Britain’s foreign policy.

But the factors complicating Eden’s position were not

limited to international difficulties. In the British Cabinet

real power commonly belongs to a small group of politicians

forming the so-called “inner Cabinet”. The Foreign Secre-

tary, in view of the importance of his post, is always one of

this group. But not in Eden’s case. The “old men” made use

of his popular name, but did not allow him real power.

The “inner Cabinet” included, besides Baldwin, the Chan-

cellor of the Exchequer Neville Chamberlain, the Home

Secretary John Simon, and the Lord Privy Seal Halifax.

Baldwin was favourably disposed towards Eden, but was

not interested in foreign policy and so could not support

him actively. The other three were not too enthusiastic

about Eden’s popularity and his rapid rise to office. Simon,

furthermore, remembered very distinctly the friction there

had been between himself and Eden when Simon had been

in charge of the Foreign Office. Halifax had ambitions to

hold the Foreign Secretaryship himself, and thought that

Eden had grabbed the post over his head. From time to

time Halifax was commissioned by the Cabinet to deal with

jobs touching on foreign affairs, and while the Foreign

Secretary was away he looked after the Foreign Office. The

“old men” were giving Halifax the chance to gain experience

of foreign affairs just in case it might be necessary to find

a replacement for Eden. All the members of the “inner Cabi-

net”, infact, thought they understood matters of foreign pol-

icy at least as well as Eden. Eden relates in his Memoirs that it

was common at Cabinet meetings for a multiplicity of Min-

isters to “show their initiative” and take a hand in drafting

diplomatic despatches on this or that issue under consider-

ation. About a year after his appointment-Eden made a vig-

orous protest against this practice. His patron Baldwin

7-01222 97

thereupon passed him a note saying: “Don’t be too indig=

nant. I once saw Curzon burst into tears when the Cabinet

was amending his despatches.” The analogy could hardly

have been a great consolation to Eden...

The guiding concept of foreign policy, which the govern-

ment had been following for years, and Eden along with it,

did not change, naturally, when he became Foreign Secre-

tary. As presented for popular consumption, it was based on

the idea that Britain was too weak militarily to resist the

aggressive designs of Germany, Italy and Japan, and must

therefore make major concessions by means of which the

above-named countries might be induced to agree to a new

settlement, which would then replace the Versailles-Wash-

ington system. Under such a new settlement British inter-

ests must of course be looked after to the utmost, so any

concessions to the aggressors must be at the expense of third

countries.

From the false premise that the countries opposed to the

aggressors had insufficient strength to restrain aggression

was drawn the “logical” conclusion that agreement with and

concessions to the aggressors were unavoidable. “The sort of

ignorant rot,” writes Randolph Churchill, “which was the

common parlance at this time of people like Baldwin, Mac-

Donald, Chamberlain, Hoare, Simon, Halifax and Eden,

and The Times newspaper, was to the effect that any firm

stand anywhere would automatically produce a war for

which we were ... unprepared.” Such “common parlance”

was of course inevitably relayed to the dictators and natu-

rally encouraged them to further demands. “Baldwin’s phrase

that ‘sanctions that would be effective inevitably spelled

war’ was much circulated in every defeatist corridor, salon

and saloon. This sort of stufi was day by day elegantly

dished up in the columns of The Times.”

The British man-in-the-street failed to notice how in the

Parliamentary debate on the Hoare-Laval plan Baldwin

not only declared that “these proposals are absolutely and

completely dead, and this Government is certainly not go-

ing to make any attempt to resurrect them”, but added:

“This is the last time we will allow the Government to com-

mit itself with regard to collective security.” Austen Cham-

berlain promptly stressed that talks seeking a compromise

solution should be continued —a compromise better than

the one Hoare had produced. So it was still a matter of

carrying on the old policy of “appeasement”.

Yet the anti-aggression forces were capable at the timé

of restraining the aggressors. This is vouched for by the

readiness of the USSR to take part in collective security

measures, also by the desire of many member states of the

League of Nations to prevent a new world war (the League

decision on Italy’s attack on Ethiopia showed this most

convincingly).

An important question arises here: what did the new For-

eign Secretary think on this issue? And the answer is quite

definite: he agreed with the foreign policy line of his gov-

ernment. “Both Press and public,” writes Dennis Bardens,

“welcomed his appointment hoping it would mean an end

to drift. Actually, this was an illusion... Eden continued

as the willing servant of the Government, loyally fulfilling

his responsibility ... committing himself to nothing with-

out the most careful consultation with the Ministers con-

cerned.”

The young politician realised perfectly clearly that he

would remain Foreign Secretary only as long as he contin-

ued loyally to serve his party. During his years of politi-

cal life, which might be comparatively few but had been

packed with events, he had learned how to serve loyally,

and did so with obvious satisfaction, all the greater for

his being by nature a man destined to play supporting

roles, to put other men’s plans into practice.

Very soon after his appointment to his new eminence

Eden is writing a number of papers for internal, govern-

mental use, which indicate his political line very clearly.

“On balance, however,” he concludes, “I am in favour of

mmaking some attempt to come to terms with Germany...

We should be prepared to make concessions to Germany, and

they will have to be concessions of value to her if they are

to achieve their object, but these concessions must only be

offered as part of a final settlement which includes some

further arms limitation and Germany’s return to the League.”

What is this, if not a classical example of a programme

for applying the policy of “appeasement” to Nazi Germa-

ny? And Eden probably felt this himself, remarking as he

does in his Memoirs: “I had by this time occasionally used

the word ‘appeasement’ in a speech or minute for the For-

eign Office.” A very significant admission.

The first act of “appeasement” of the aggressors carried

through by Eden as Foreign Secretary was to ensure the

non-interference of interested parties when Nazi Germany

7 99

re-militarised the Rhineland. All the bourgeois historians,

and even Eden himself, admit that the “appeasement” line

taken towards Italian fascism by London and Paris had con-

vinced Hitler that now, in early 1936, his moment had

come, that he could send,in his troops and re-militarise the

Rhineland without fear of opposition by Britain or France.

This was an outrageous contravention not only of the

Treaty of Versailles, but of the Locarno Treaties as well.

On March 7, 1936, Germany moved troops into the Rhine-

land, taking them right up to the French border.

Realising that if Paris and London moved to defend their

treaty rights (and they ought to have done this for juridical

reasons and following the dictates of plain common sense),

then Germany would have to capitulate immediately, the

Nazis threw out a bait for the governments of Britain and

France. They offered to sign a 25-year non-aggression pact

between Germany and France and Belgium, also bilateral

pacts of non-aggression with Germany’s Eastern neighbours

(but not with the USSR), and to return to the League of

Nations. It was stressed that the action in the Rhineland

also had an anti-Soviet element, being taken as it were in

response to the Soviet-French pact on mutual assistance.

The German action was unexpected so far as world public

opinion was concerned, but not unexpected to the British

Government. Its Ambassador had repeatedly reported from

Berlin that such an action was in preparation. At the end

of January 1936 Eden had a noteworthy conversation with

the German Foreign Minister von Neurath, who had come

to London with the German delegation attending the funer-

al of King George V. Even as related by Eden after the

war, this conversation looks distinctly odd. Eden showed

interest in German intentions regarding the provisions of

the Locarno Treaty (which would ipso facto include those

relating to the Rhineland being kept as a demilitarised

zone), and was content with some vague utterances by Neu-

rath on the absence of disputed issues between Germany and

France. It is extremely significant that the British Minister

did not warn the German that Britain had an interest in

maintaining the provisions of Versailles and Locarno regard-

ing the Rhineland, and did not say that Britain would not

allow them to be infringed. Such an omission, when the

threat of German infringement of these articles was in the

very air, was equivalent to tacit acceptance of the German

action then being prepared.

100

The next day Eden was visited by the French Foreign

Minister, Flandin, who immediately raised the subject of

the Rhineland. His purpose was to find out what Britain's

position would be if Germany brought troops into the

Rhineland. Eden avoided giving a straight answer to that

question. Although Britain, like Italy, was a guarantor of

the Locarno Treaty and consequently had to secure the sta-

tus quo on the Rhine, Eden declared that the situation in

the Rhineland “was clearly a matter for the judgement of

the French Government in the first instance”.

As the French Foreign Ministry was putting the same ques-

tion to the British Ambassador in Paris, George Clerk, Eden

gave him strict instructions to tell the French nothing about

the possible British position. It grew clear that the British

Government was washing its hands of the matter in ad-

vance.

And the formulation of the British Government position

given by Eden in a note of February 14, 1936 for his Cabinet

colleagues was quite unequivocal: “It would be preferable

for Great Britain and France to enter betimes into negotia-

tions with the German Government for the surrender on

conditions of our rights in the zone while such surrender

still has a bargaining value.”

Baldwin and Eden discussed the situation and decided

that London would not support any French military action

against Germany. The fact that this refusal would in itself

be contrary to Britain’s obligations under the Locarno

Treaty apparently did not worry the august persons con-

versing. And when the question of Anglo-French staff talks

came up, Baldwin warned Eden of their unpopularity

atone the Conservative Back-Benchers: “The boys won’t

ave it.”

The British Government, Parliament, the press, all put

much effort into justifying Germany’s aggressive acts in the

eyes of the British public at large, depicting those acts as

entirely reasonable and proper. “After all, they are only go-

ing into their own back garden!” exclaimed Lord Lothian.

Harold Nicolson, a well-known observer of foreign affairs

and a Member of Parliament, noted in his diary: “On all

Sides one hears sympathy for Germany.”

The press played up to Hitler, publicising his proposals in

Such a way that the reader should accept these as a genuine

Contribution by the Nazi Fuhrer to the preservation of

Peace. The Spectator wrote: “The essential is to get discus-

104

sion started on Hitler’s positive proposals.” While The Times

asserted that re-militarisation of the Rhineland presented

governments with a chance to re-build the international re-

lations of Europe.

This “chance to re-build” was openly linked with anti-

Soviet policies. “Nothing in Herr Hitler’s peace proposals,”

remarked The Spectator, “...is inconsistent with the theory

that Germany wants peace in the west with a view to free-

ing her for action in the east.” Robert Boothby, a Conser-

vative MP, put things even more clearly, dotting all the

i’s. “Some people,” he said, “...advocated unlimited con-

cessions to Germany in the hope that ‘a day will come when

we shall get the Germans and the Russians fighting each

other’.”

The moral and political support for German actions was

accompanied in the British press by anti-French propaganda.

This was probably done because Hitler’s act threatened

French security primarily, and the French Government was

expecting London to meet its obligations under the Treaties

of Versailles and Locarno. French strategic positions had

been undermined—a vivid lesson to British ruling circles,

and their answer was to unleash savage resentment against

France. There was another reason too for the outburst of

Francophobia in Britain. For a number of years, Eden

writes, “some of my colleagues were to protest that our close

relations with France prevented us from reaching an under-

standing with Germany”. In short, the British Government

was not averse to making major concessions to Nazism at the

expense of French interests.

Yet France at this juncture had every right to say: “We

are putting troops into the Rhineland,” and to demand that

Britain do the same. This was Britain’s direct obligation

under the Treaties of Locarno. In London they were very

much afraid of this situation arising. It was not a French

defeat they were frightened of—the French army could at

that time have dislodged the Nazi forces from the banks of

the Rhine without trouble. What frightened British ruling

circles was the possibility of the German gamble in the

Rhineland coming unstuck and bringing down the Nazi

regime in Germany, after which left-wing forces might have

come to power.

Harold Nicolson, well informed on the mood of Parliament

and government, confided to his diary that if Britain and

France decided to evict the Nazi troops from the Rhineland

102

by force of arms they could of course do so successfully and

enter Berlin. “But what is the good of that?” he asked. “It

would only mean communism in Germany and France.” So

Nicolson considered that the only course open to Britain

was “to swallow this humiliation as best we may, and be

prepared to become the laughing-stock of Europe”.

On March 7 the German Ambassador in London, von

Hoesch, presented to Eden a Memorandum on the bringing

of German troops into the Rhineland. It was a Saturday.

The Prime Minister had gone off the previous day to spend

the week-end at his out-of-town residence, Chequers, some

60 kilometres from London. At week-ends official activity

practically ceases.

Eden was thus obliged to take up a definite position with-

out having any previous consultation with either Cabinet

or Prime Minister. He summoned the French and Italian

Ambassadors and the Belgian Chargé d’Affaires (for different

times, but in that order), and announced that the French

Government should “not do anything to make the situation

more difficult”. If Eden, who was far from being given to

taking independent decisions, made such a weighty pro-

nouncement, it could mean only one thing: the British Gov-

ernment had already decided on its position, which amount-

ed to non-intervention vis-a-vis Hitler’s aggressive act. At

the same time, Eden recommended to the French Ambassa-

dor’s attention Hitler’s counter-proposals, stressing that

these “would have a very considerable effect on public opin-

ion”. He was directly playing along with the Nazis, who

had put out their counter-proposals with the intention of

disorientating and demoralising their opponents. Only after

this did Eden ring up Baldwin, drive to Chequers, and re-

port on the situation to the Prime Minister. The latter

approved all the actions taken.

It is noteworthy that on March 9 there was a debate in

the House of Commons on defence. This debate offered a

prime opportunity to say something also about the bring-

ing of German troops into the’Rhineland—after all, what

happened there related very directly to the security and de-

fence of Britain. But the Prime Minister contrived to speak

without even mentioning the events that had taken place

two days previously.

Could the governments of Britain and France,check Ger-

many and force her to remove her troops from the Rhine-

land? Yes, they could. They had the necessary strength

403

and resources, not to mention the fact that the Soviet Union

had from the first taken up a firm position calling for

rebuff to the aggressor. On March 9 the Soviet Embassy in

London informed the British that in the opinion of the

government of the Soviet Union “the only proper response

to Hitler would be to reinforce collective security by all

possible means, including such measures of compulsion as

the League of Nations might see fit to take against Ger-

many”.

The Soviet Union, at this juncture, proposed a realistic

means of restraining the aggressor and ensuring security

and stability in Europe. It called for close cooperation

between the USSR, Britain and France. On April 2, 1936,

as the official documents show, the Soviet Government.

brought to the attention of the British Government that.

for the salvation of Europe “it is imperatively necessary

that the USSR, France and Great Britain draw as close as

possible in the struggle for peace”. Moscow stressed that.

“only urgent reinforcement of a system of collective secu-

rity, ready to act decisively in reply to each new aggressive

action of Germany, can bring Hitler to realise that peace

holds more advantages than war”.

So in London they cannot have been in any doubt as to

the position of the Soviet Union. But British ruling circles

remained deaf to the voice of common sense. They decided

to act in a very different way.

In a note composed for his Cabinet colleagues Eden wrote

that it would be in British interests to come to a far-reach-

ing settlement with Germany, for as Jong a period as pos-

sible, while Hitler was still in the mood to do this. The

British Cabinet approved Eden’s proposal. So in”spite of

everything the line was still to work for a general settle-

ment with Nazi Germany. And to attain this the “appease-

ment” of Germany must continue, and the first thing to be

done for that purpose was to legalise Hitler’s action in re-

militarising the Rhineland.

But what about the French? Would they swallow, unre-

sisting, this marked worsening of their strategic position,

would they not try to restore the previous status quo? In

order to avert such a possibility, Eden and Halifax hastily

left for Paris.

In commenting cn this trip, some of Eden’s biographers

have interpreted the fact that Halifax was brought in for

this assignment as an indication that Baldwin and the “old

404

men” had insufficient faith in their young Minister. While

entrusting to him such an important mission—involving a

decision on peace or war, no less—they none the less saw

fit to set a watch on him in the person of a member of the

“inner Cabinet”. Despite all his popularity both in Britain

and abroad, Eden had much less influence in the “inner Cab-

inet” than Halifax.

Eden and Halifax were successful in getting their line

accepted in Paris at a conference of the Locarno powers.

Eden succeeded in defending the same line again at a session

of the League of Nations Council, which met in London

from the 14th to the 17th of March to consider the complaint

lodged by France and Belgium against Germany that the

latter had violated the Treaties of Versailles and Locarno.

The Council recognised the fact that Germany had violated

the treaties, but did no more. No support was forthcoming

for the speech made by the Soviet representative, who un-

masked the aggressive foreign policy designs of Germany

and declared the Soviet Union’s readiness “to take part in

any measures which the Locarno powers might propose to

the Council of the League” and which “would be acceptable

to the other members of the Council”. No measures were in

fact proposed. This was mainly due to the efforts of the

British representatives.

Having thus ensured, in effect, legalisation and support

of the German action, the government in London decided it

was now proper for the matter to be debated in Parliament,

since they had no cause to fear undesirable repercussions.

Only after 19 days had elapsed since the relevant events

did the House of Commons get down to debating the situ-

ation caused by the re-militarisation of the Rhineland.

By this time the German troops had not merely established

but had thoroughly strengthened positions on both banks

of the Rhine. The Commons debate was opened by Eden.

He declared that the aim of the British Government in the

current situation was: “First, to avert the danger of war,

second, to create the conditions in which negotiations can

take place, and third, to bring about the success of these

negotiations so that they may strengthen collective secu-

rity.” Later “a happier atmosphere” was to becreated allow-

ing thel “larger negotiations on economic matters of arma-

ments which are indispensable to the appeasement*of Europe

to take place”. How far removed from true intentions were

these words!

105

In fact, the British Government thought to remove the

threat of armed conflict with Germany from itself by organis-

ing Germany’s attack of countries to the east of her. Which

is not, by any means, the same as “averting the danger of

war”. Actually Britain did not avert the danger even for

herself, she merely increased the brunt of the war she was

faced with only three and a half years later. In the opinion

of an English historian, Charles Webster, it was the re-

militarisation of the Rhineland that made the future war

inevitable. The assertion that the deal about to be made

with Hitler was to “strengthen collective security” is a typi-

cal example of British political hypocrisy, for the policy

of “appeasement” was the very antithesis and negation of

the policy of collective security. The same applies to the

words about the “appeasement” of Europe, used to mask

the line towards the “appeasement” of the fascist states.

The House of Commons, including its Labour group, on

the whole approved of the theses advanced by Eden. Contrib-

utors to the debate supported these by further remarks to

the effect that no sanctions should be taken against Germa-

ny, and that the French should be warned not to count on

British support if they tried to remove the German troops

from the banks of the Rhine by force of arms. This last

point was categorically laid down by Neville Chamberlain,

who wound up the debate for the government.

There was rejoicing in Berlin. One more risky venture by

the Nazis had come off, the political and strategic positions

of fascism had been made more secure. Later A.J.P. Taylor

was to note that “...7 March 1936 was ‘the last chance’, the

last occasion when Germany could have been stopped with-

out all the sacrifice and suffering of a great war”. That she

was not stopped was the fault of the British Government.

Randolph Churchill summed up the actions of that govern-

ment regarding the re-militarisation of the Rhineland as

follows: “We had passed another milestone on the road™to

war, down which we were all ... being shepherded by Bald-

win, MacDonald, Chamberlain, Hoare, Simon, Halifax and

Eden.”

Italian fascism also took advantage of the favourable

situation. Mussolini pressed on with his brigand’s business,

hastening to conquer the entire territory of Ethiopia. The

Italian Blackshirts did not hesitate to employ the most

bestial methods of warfare. Poison gas was used. Italian

planes deliberately bombed hospitals. f

106

Meanwhile the efforts of the British Government were

being turned towards preventing closure of the Suez Canal

to Italian shipping, and towards hindering, by delaying

tactics, the application of oil sanctions against Italy. The

old line of currying favour with the fascist dictator was

still in operation.

As early as January 6, 1936, when Eden had just received

the ministerial portfolio, he was assuring the Italian Ambas-

sador that there was no foundation whatever for press re-

ports that he was anti-Italian, and still less was it true that

there had been “any sharp personal differences” between

himself and Mussolini; he ended by expressing his readiness

to collaborate with the Duce.

On May 5 Italian troops occupied Addis Ababa, and soon

they occupied the whole of Ethiopia. Haile Selassie went

into exile in Britain, where he was received worse than

coolly.

This course of events brought forward once again the

question of sanctions against the aggressor. And here the

British Government showed remarkable energy in obtaining

the repeal of the economic sanctions against Italy, which

had been introduced by the League of Nations. It was un-

deterred by the fact that the sanctions had been introduced

at the instance of Britain, that they were supposed to stop

aggression but had not done so, and that in proposing to

repeal them London was making a right-about face in its

policy.

On May 6 Austen Chamberlain called for the repeal of the

sanctions in the House of Commons. A month later Neville

Chamberlain declared in the course of a much publicised

speech to the 1900 Club that the continuation of sanctions

seemed to him “the very midsummer of madness”.

Then Eden came into the game. It was he, who had the rep-

utation of a supporter of the League of Nations and who

had earlier had a part in its decision to apply sanctions,

who now on June 18 announced and “explained” in the

House of Commons the British Government’s decision to

lift sanctions against Italy. For years he had been making

any number of speeches in praise of collective security, but

now he came out openly against measures directed towards

achieving that end.

He even brought out the hoary argument that sanctions

would lead to war, which will not be confined to the Medi-

terranean area only. This was sharp practice, as he must

107

have known, since in December 1935 the governments of

Turkey, Greece and Yugoslavia had given assurances that

they would support Britain should Mussolini engage in “a

‘mad-dog’ act”, i.e. respond to sanctions by declaring war on

Britain. Faced with such a combination of powers, with the

other members of the League of Nations behind it, not even

a “mad dog” would have taken such an action.

The indignation of the Labour representatives in the House

of Commons was expressed by Greenwood, who said that

this was “betrayal” of the League. There were cries of

“Shame!” and “Resign!” from other Members. The Labour

Party published a manifesto under the title “The Great Be-

trayal”. Here was the true face of Anthony Eden at last

exposed.

In the Europe of the mid-thirties there was a growing move-

ment of the Popular Front, the peoples’ answer to the on-

slaught of fascism in a number of countries and to the in-

creasing danger of another war, also to the policy of “appe-

asement” of aggressors being followed by the governments

of Britain and France. The petty bourgeoisie, the intellec-

tuals and some bourgeois-liberal groupings united round

the working class. In 1936 parliamentary elections brought

Popular Front governments into power in France and in

Spain. This was in itself a severe check for fascism. In July

1936 monarchist-fascist reactionaries, plus the military

caste, raised a rebellion in Spain against the lawful govern-

ment. From the very beginning the rebels worked in the

closest collaboration with German and Italian fascism.

Support for the fascist rebels soon grew into direct military

intervention by Germany and Italy against the Spanish

Republic.

The ruling circles of Britain and France found themselves

in a difficult situation. Victory for the rebels and those

intervening to help them would represent a grave danger to

their own countries. Their interests in the Mediterranean

and in North Africa were under threat. Victory for fascism

in Spain, helped on from outside, would make Spain a natu-

ral ally of Germany and Italy against Britain and France.

The security of the British base at Gibraltar and of the

eniire sea route through the Mediterranean to South-East

Asia would be placed at the mercy of the fascist powers.

And France would find herself gripped in the pincers of

hostile forces—from the direction of the Rhine, from her

Alpine frontier and from the Pyrenees.

108

At the same time, defeat of the fascist revolt in Spain and

preservation of the Popular Front government there would

mean a sharp reduction in the strength of reactionary forces

in Europe as a whole and within Britain and France in par-

ticular, and would bring about a significant strengthening of

left-wing forces. This the ruling circles of these two coun-

tries could not allow. Class interests clearly determined the

conduct of the British and French Governments in relation to

the Spanish fight for revolution and freedom. Both London

and Paris preferred to support fascism against true democra-

cy, to the detriment of the interests of their own peoples.

“Appeasement” of the fascist powers was being transformed

into direct support of aggression committed by them within

the continent of Europe. Ih

In justification of such an attitude, it was alleged that

any other course of action with regard to events in Spain

would entail a general war throughout Europe. The premise

was not new. The “appeasers” were already accustomed to

using the bogey of war to scare their peoples into accepting

their policy. We have already met with this line of argu-

ment, used to ensure non-intervention in Italian aggression

in Ethiopia.

Yet this concept is refuted by events connected with the

Spanish war itself. In 1937 Italian submarines began to

sink neutral merchant shipping, including British vessels,

in the Mediterranean. This underwater piracy threatened

British naval interests in the Mediterranean, as well as the

rights of other countries. In connection with this, an inter-

national conference took place in September 1937 at Nyon

on Lake Leman; it took just 48 hours to reach agreement on

measures to be taken against the fascist pirates. The results

were immediate. Italian submarine attacks on merchant

shipping came to an end. The measures involved had not

only failed to produce any threat of war, they had helped to

keep the peace.

The British Conservatives are artful politicians. They

devised a means of supporting fascism in Spain which was

accepted by many politically inexperienced people as an

expression of neutrality with the regard to events in Spain.

An agreement on non-intervention in Spanish affairs was

drafted, which was signed by 27 countries. This agreement

prohibited the export or transit of weapons and war mate-

rials to Spain. At first glance it appeared to offer the Span-

ish people the opportunity to settle their own problems

109

independently, without outside intervention. But this was just

a facade, masking an underhand way of helping on the

suffocation of the Spanish revolution.

In the first place, this was a crude infringement of inter-

national law. In the House of Commons in October 1936 one

MP, Adams, pointed out that “the Spanish Government has

not even enjoyed the elementary right in international law

of purchasing arms from abroad”. In the second place, by

debarring the Spanish Government from foreign sources of

arms, at a time when the fascist rebels were being supplied

with German and Italian weapons, the policy of “non-inter-

vention” was in reality providing a handy solution of the

problem of how to assist the fascists in strangling the Span-

ish Republic. In this way “non-intervention” in Spain was

all of a piece with the embargo on the supply of arms to

Ethiopia which the British Government had operated dur-

ing the Italo-Ethiopian war a year before. Now London

took the initiative and was the first to introduce an embargo

on the sale of arms to Spain, without even waiting to find

out whether other governments would follow suit.

The British Government acted in such a way as to lay

the foundation for future collaboration with the fascist gov-

ernment that might come to power in Spain. “Eden,” Rees-

Mogg notes, “was concerned, as his speeches at the time

show, that nothing should be done which ... would neces-

sarily alienate the Franco Government if it finally consoli-

dated its power.”

But in London they were not anxious to advertise their

prior claims in the matter of producing the policy of “non-

intervention”, and_ceded this doubtful honour to the French

Government led by the Social-Democrat Léon Blum. Brit-

ish historians still assert, in the teeth of the evidence,

that this policy was initiated by Paris. Eden too did not

fail to make mention of this in his Memoirs. Yet in actual

fact “non-intervention”, was born in Downing Street.

We know that to begin with Paris intended, following the

initiative of Pierre Cot, the progressive Minister for Air,

to allow the Republican Government of Spain to acquire

arms in France. Then Blum was invited to visit London, and

found himself obliged to abandon that intention and agree to

put forward the proposal that there should be “non-interven-

tion” in Spanish affairs. In January 1937 the progressive

British journal, Labour Monthly, wrote: “It is no secret that

the supposed Blum policy of ‘non-intervention’ in Spain was

110

in reality engineered by the National Government and

forced on Blum.”

It would be wrong, none the less, to underestimate the

“contribution” made by the French Government to the sup-

pression of the Spanish revolution. And not only France,

but the USA as well pursued the line of connivance at fas-

cist international brigandage. “Eden’s personal conviction

that non-intervention was the best practical policy,” writes

Rees-Mogg, “was reinforced by the support given to it by the

United States Government.”

At first the Soviet Union took part in the work of the

Non-Intervention Committee, which met in London under

the chairmanship of Lord Plymouth. The Soviet Govern-

ment acted in the conviction that the Spanish Republi-

cans were capable of suppressing the fascist revolt even with-

out outside aid. Therefore the task was to see to it that the

committee did prevent intervention in Spanish affairs by

Germany and Italy. When the Soviet Union had become

convinced that the committee was serving only as a cover

for German and Italian intervention, it declared that it could

not consider itself bound by the non-intervention agree-

ment to any greater extent than its other participants. By

this time the true nature of “non-intervention” had become

quite clearly defined.

The Soviet Government, true to the Leninist principle of

proletarian internationalism, came out in support for the

progressive, revolutionary forces of the Spanish people, and

this could not fail to draw down on that government increas-

ing hostility on the part of the British Government. Har-

old Nicolson, having noted in August 1936 that the war in

Spain was producing a polarisation of left and right forces

in Europe, asked: “Which way do we go?” And stated:

“The pro-German and anti-Russian tendencies of the Tories

will be fortified and increased.” And all this was in a situ-

ation when the threat of a new world war was growing with

every passing day.

The increasingly active fascist preparations for war roused

deep disquiet among all nations, including the British.

The war in Spain produced a clearly defined dividing line

between different social forces within the country. Forward-

looking, progressive Britons came out in support of the

Spanish people’s just fight against fascism. They were op-

Posed by the forces of reaction: various pro-fascist organisa-

tions, the monopolies, their political organisation—the Con-

444

servative Party, and the government formed by that party,

The splitting of the country into two antagonistic camps was

an accomplished fact. Few international events have

evoked such a polarisation.

The reactionary forces made a gaudy display of their sym-

pathy for Spanish fascism and for the rebel leader General

Franco. One Conservative, Henry Page Croft, declared: “I rec-

ognize General Franco to be a gallant Christian gentleman,

and | believe his word.” His colleague Arnold Wilson trum-

peted forth his attitude: “I hope to God Franco wins in

Spain and the sooner the better.” Even Winston Churchill,

who had a better sense of the threat Germany and Italy

represented to British interests, came out in support of the

Spanish insurgents at the beginning of the Spanish events,

and a year later was demanding that Britain recognise the

Franco Government.

The right-wing leadership of the trades unions and the

Labour Party officially supported the government’s policy

of “non-intervention”. But progressive, militant elements

within these organisations fought actively against it. Their

action became more and more energetic as events revealed

the true import of “non-intervention”.

The most consistent supporters of the Spanish fighters for

freedom were the British Communists. Among others who

declared their solidarity with Republican Spain were the

best representatives of the British intelligentsia and a cer-

tain proportion of those holding bourgeois-liberal views.

Voluntary organisations were formed to assist the Span-

iards in their fight for freedom. The internationalist feeling

among British workers was expressed in the fact that 2,000

Britons went to Spain and fought fascism arms in hand, in

the International Brigade.

Such a reaction among British people to the war in Spain

only made the Conservative Government more anxious than

ever to help fascism attain power in the Iberian Peninsula.

The responsibility borne by the ruling circles of Britain

for the establishment of a fascist dictatorship in Spain,

after three years of war, is clear and beyond doubt.

A.J.P. Taylor, a historian who is far from being a Com-

munist, wrote: “British and French policy ... not the policy

of Hitler and Mussolini, decided the outcome of the Span-

ish Civil War.”

And British foreign policy at that time was under the

charge of Anthony Eden. His biographers and many histo-

211

rians have noted that there were no disagreements between

him and other members of tht government over events in

Spain. As A.J.P. Taylor remarks: “He had urged the League

to abandon Abyssinia; he had acquiesced in Hitler’s reoccu-

pation of the Rhineland without serious protest; he had

sponsored the pretences of the Non-Intervention Commit-

tee.”

All these acts stimulated the aggressive intent of the

fascist powers. Hitler and Mussolini, finding themselves not

only exempted from punishment but positively encouraged,

officially announced their unity of aims and their intention

to display unity of action in achieving them. On October 25,

1936, a military and political bloc between Germany and

Italy was formed, which became known as Berlin-Rome

Axis. Under agreement between the two fascist governments

Germany recognised the Italian seizure of Ethiopia, a gen-

eral line was laid down for the conduct of both countries

within the committee for non-intervention in Spanish

affairs, recognition of the Franco Government by both Ger-

many and Italy was confirmed, and measures for assisting

him were set forth. Besides this, spheres of economic influ-

ence in the Balkans and the countries of the Danube basin

were delimited. This was the first stage in the structuring of

the bloc of fascist aggressors, in preparation for unleashing

the Second World War. Soon the Rome-Berlin Axis was

complemented by the Anti-Comintern Pact signed by Ger-

many and Japan in November 1936, with Italy joining a

year later.

This closing of the aggressor ranks should have been a

warning to the “appeasers”. But their only conclusion was

that in order to reach a “general settlement” they ought to

press on with concessions to fascism. “The immediate effect

of the Spanish Civil War,” states A.J.P. Taylor, “was to

cud British statesmen hurrying after the favour of Musso-

ini.”

Eden undertook a number of measures designed to strength-

en contacts with Rome, doing everything possible to con-

vince Mussolini that he was regarded with understanding and

friendship in London, and that he ought not to attribute

too much significance to the unfortunate episode over sanc-

tions, especially since they had now been lifted at British

insistence.

The British Government was rather disturbed by the fact

that Italy had sent several divisions to Spain, which under

8—-01222 443

the guise of “volunteers” were fighting against the Republic.

In London they realised that this would not be done without

a quid pro quo being forthcoming, and they were very much

afraid that Italy might compel Spain to pay for this “aid” by

handing over the Balearic Islands or some other part of

Spanish territory. This would have markedly altered the

state of affairs in the Mediterranean in favour of Italy and

to the disadvantage of Britain. Suspicions in London were

increased by an anti-British campaign in the Italian press.

Within the British Government there was a persistent

feeling that after the lifting of sanctions it should be possible

to improve relations with Italy by making certain conces-

sions to her, whereupon Mussolini would respond in kind.

So in July 1936 we find Eden announcing in the House of

Commons that “we now considered the period of Mediterra-

nean tension at an end”. No favourable reaction from Rome

followed.

At the beginning of November Eden made another attempt.

He declared in Parliament that Britain had important in-

terests in the Mediterranean and recognised the analogous

interests of Italy. “In years gone by, the interests of the two

countries in the Mediterranean have been complementary

rather than divergent.” So why not preserve such a state

of affairs in the future! Eden wound up by saying: “It

should... be possible for each country to continue to maintain

its vital interests in the Mediterranean not only without

conflict with each other, but even with mutual advantage.”

A direct and open invitation to fascist Italy to collaborate

with Britain in that part of the world.

After that there were active talks between Eden and Gran-

di, the Italian Ambassador in London, and in the upshot

these made it clear that Mussolini would not be averse to

concluding a Gentleman’s Agreement with Britain.;

Now the French were alarmed. Here was London, again,

carrying on talks behind their backs with one of France’s

opponents. Corbin, the French Ambassador in London,

asked Eden for an explanation. Eden “calmed him down”

with meaningless assurances, and promised to keep him in-

formed of the progress of the talks with Italy.

In the course of these talks Grandi sought that London

recognise the “legality” of the seizure of Ethiopia, and Eden

showed great concern over the possibility of Mussolini gain-

ing possession of the Balearic Islands. The British could not

agree to Italian demands straight away, just like that, bear-

114

ing in mind the previous year's crisis over the Hoare-La-

val plan. However, in order to demonstrate to the fascists

that all would come right in time, the British Government

recalled the Legation guard from Addis Ababa, and Eden

told Grandi that he was ready “to treat the Abyssinian prob-

lem separately”. After which, as Eden noted, “the Ambas-

sador left in good spirits”.

The Italian Government in its turn agreed to give an

assurance that it had no intention of taking over Spanish

territories, and in January 1937 the Gentleman’s Agreement

was concluded. The title was the cause of much wit after-

wards: to conclude a Gentleman’s Agreement one does re-

quire two gentlemen present.

The agreement stated that both Britain and Italy had vi-

tal interests in the Mediterranean, spoke of their being “in

no way inconsistent with each other’, gave assurances of

mutual respect for these interests and disclaimed any desire

to modify the status quo. Eden later asserted that “we had

yielded nothing to get this agreement”. This was far from

being the case. By concluding this agreement with Musso-

lini Britain as it were exonerated all the aggressive acts of

Italian fascism, officially recognising that the actions of

the League of Nations, and Britain’s own official position

with regard to Italy, in the context of the latter’s attack on

Ethiopia, had been wrong. It was one more blow to the

League of Nations and to British prestige, while Italian

fascism had again received moral and political support.

Before a week was out Mussolini had broken the agree-

ment. Without consulting his London associates he des-

patched 4,000 more “volunteers” to Spain. This was preg-

nant with possible changes in the status quo, which the

“gentlemen” had just solemnly agreed to respect. Nor was

there any halt in the fascist-inspired anti-British propagan-

da, although the agreement bound the sides “to use their

best endeavours to discourage any activities liable to impair

the good relations” between them.

Yet even then Eden tried to defend Mussolini. Later he

admitted: “I was, if anything, too complaisant towards the

Fascist dictator.” How true, how very true!

International relations continued to deteriorate. In the

spring of 1937 Eden’s position in the government also took

a turn for the worse. His patron Stanley Baldwin had now

retired. Baldwin had succeeded in restoring to some extent

his personal standing, which had been badly damaged by

ge 145

the fiasco of the Hoare-Laval plan. He had taken up an

uncompromising stance in the constitutional argument which

had arisen with King Edward VIII. The King wished: to

marry a twice-divorced American, Mrs. Simpson. The Con-

servatives, headed by Baldwin, raised sharp objections to

such a marriage, declaring that it would lower the dignity

of the monarchy. The King, faced with a choice between

love and the throne, chose love. On May 12, 1937, a new

King was crowned, as George VI, and a British historian

notes that at the Coronation ceremony Baldwin was greeted

with almost as much enthusiasm as the Royal couple. The

elderly Prime Minister decided to retire on the crest of this

wave of popularity.

Neville Chamberlain became the new head of government;

he had long enjoyed great influence in the Conservative

Party and had been viewed as Baldwin’s successor. Although

Chamberlain was already 68 years old (he was only two

years younger than Baldwin) he was extremely active. A very

limited man, Chamberlain like all mediocrities raised by

chance to high position was firmly convinced of his own

genius. Unlike Baldwin, who gave his Ministers great free-

dom, he decided that he himself would formulate the polit-

ical line to be followed in all spheres of governmental

activity, and the Ministers must be only executants, car-

rying out precisely what he indicated.

Chamberlain decided that his main attention must be di-

rected towards foreign policy. Eden recalls how Baldwin

once said to him that “out of my twenty colleagues, there

was probably not more than one who thought he should be

Minister of Labour and nineteen who thought they should

be Foreign Secretary”. Neville Chamberlain was one of the

nineteen.

Eden also relates that once in his presence Austen Cham-

berlain responded to Neville’s remarks on the European sit-

uation by saying: “Neville, you must remember you don’t

know anything about foreign affairs.” As time would show,

the younger brother failed to heed the words of his senior.

An old-fashioned man—and not just in appearance, but in

his convictions—he lived by the ideas and concepts of the

Victorian age and failed to recognise that much of the former

might of Britain had already departed. Thus he rarely suc-

ceeded in keeping his ideas on foreign policy in line with the

considerably reduced real possibilities open to his country.

This is a defect common to all British Prime Ministers in

116

the period of British imperialism’s decline, and it costs

the British people dear.

Never since the First World War had there been as many

lords in the Cabinet as in Chamberlain’s Government. He

had no intention of making any account of the Liberal and

Labour representatives, the Opposition, in the House of

Commons. Chamberlain once noted in his diary that Bald-

win had told him that “I always gave him the impression ...

when I spoke in the House of Commons, that I looked on

the Labour Party as dirt”.

Long before Baldwin retired Chamberlain had given care-

ful thought to the way in which he would operate as Prime

Minister. This involved foreign policy as well. Chamberlain

did not like the existing system of dealing with matters of

foreign policy, with a great part being played by the Foreign

Office and its special procedures, evolved and refined over

centuries, for processing diplomatic documents. Chamber-

lain allotted the'Foreign Office’a secondary role only in car-

rying through the country’s foreign policy. He considered

that he himself should work out that policy, should take

the decisions on matters of principle and should himself

see them put into operation. For this, the Prime Minister

must have his own direct contacts with foreign envoys,

engage in personal correspondence with foreign heads of

state, and reach the required agreements with these through

personal talks. Such a procedure seems absurd at first

glance, but Chamberlain justified it by the need to speed

up the settlement of foreign policy matters and avoid the

delays which would inevitably arise if the Foreign Office

was left to deal with them. The fact that the Foreign Office

had an experienced staff with an excellent knowledge of all

aspects of the pertinent problems, and with the skills needed

for diplomatic negotiations (and British diplomacy is in-

deed the most experienced and highly qualified in the bour-

geois world), that it could therefore help the government to

ayaie serious errors—all this did not enter Chamberlain’s

ead.

Previously, during his tenure of office as Chancellor of

the Exchequer, Chamberlain had already made efforts to

take the "Foreign! Office in hand, over the appointment of

Ambassadors in particular. The staff of the Foreign Office is

officially part of the Civil Service, which includes all those

working for the state. The Civil Service has its own care-

fully worked-out structure, its own system for making

147

appointments within the service and advancing, rewarding,

etc., those in it. The head of the Civil Service in Eden’s

time was Warren Fisher. :

Only a few weeks had elapsed from Eden’s ro CGii of

office as Foreign Secretary when Fisher informed him (and

it is impossible to suppose that he did this without prior

consultation with Chamberlain) that henceforward he, Eden,

must inform the Prime Minister, through Fisher, of any

new appointments within the Foreign Office. It was actually

a demand that Eden should admit the right of the head of

the Civil Service to choose Ambassadors and envoys. Eden

was furious, there was a sharp exchange between him and

Fisher, and the question was referred to the Premier, Stan-

ley Baldwin. But Baldwin declined to take any decision,

and advised Eden to consult ... Chamberlain. Only after a

serious talk with Chamberlain did Eden succeed in defend-

ing his right to independence in the appointment of

Ambassadors and envoys.

Other warning signs of trouble to come also appeared at

this period. Eden did not forget, for instance, Chamber-

lain’s speech of June 10, 1936, in which he referred to sanc-

tions against Italy as “the very midsummer of madness”.

Such a statement should only have been made by the For-

eign Secretary, not by the Chancellor of the Exchequer, but

Chamberlain had come out with it without even consulting

Eden beforehand. On June 17 Chamberlain wrote in his

diary: “I did it deliberately because I felt that the party

and the country needed a lead, and an indication that the

government was not wavering and drifting without a policy...

1 did not consult Anthony Eden, because he would have

been bound to beg me not to say what I proposed... He him-

self has been as nice as possible about it, though it is of

course true that to some extent he has had to suffer in the

public interest.”

The new Prime Minister continued to pursue just this line

towards Eden, and it led in the end to a split between them.

Since the Conservative propaganda machine, British bour-

geois historiography, and Anthony Eden himself, had all

for decades been publicising a version of events to the effect

that Eden resigned as Foreign Secretary over political differ-

ences between himself and the Chamberlain Government,

it will be as well to make it clear at this point that such

was not the case. Some bourgeois writers agree with us on

this. Thompson, for instance, recommends that the differ-

418

ences between Eden and Chamberlain should not be exagger-

ated, since two months before Eden left the government he

was telling the Foreign Policy Committee that there was

no immediate likelihood of war, and that the prospects for

“appeasement” were better than ever. These words were

uttered by Eden at the beginning of 1938 (just prior to

Munich), and not at some chance gathering, but to a strict-

ly limited audience, an official committee of the House

of Commons. So they may be taken as reflecting Eden’s

political position at that time. And this was in accord with

that of Neville Chamberlain—both of them were backing

“appeasement” of the aggressor powers.

All the sources, including Eden’s own Memoirs, agree in

their evidence that there were no differences between Eden

and Chamberlain over matters of principle in foreign poli-

cy, over its aims and objects.

Eden was obliged to resign because Chamberlain’s actions

in the field of foreign policy time and again placed him,

Eden, in a humiliating position. Maybe he would have set-

tled for swallowing these humiliations in order to retain

the office by which he set such store, if his loss of face had

not been so public. As it was, all was known not only to

those working in the Foreign Office, not only to many of the

senior men in the Civil Service, but to the diplomatic rep-

resentatives of foreign countries as well. Anthony Eden had

to resort to extreme measures in order to defend his own

dignity, in order to retain, in some measure at least, the

respect of those in his own Ministry. That was the princi-

pal reason for his resignation.

A second reason was Eden’s disapproval (reinforced by the

disapproval of the entire staff of the Foreign Office) of

Chamberlain’s diplomatic tactics. The latter’s home-grown

diplomacy was naive to a large degree, it rejected the ways

and means of negotiating with foreign powers that had been

selected and evolved through time and the art of diplomacy,

and it ended by putting the country in a difficult situation.

Within the government a “Big Four” had come into being,

headed by Chamberlain, which took the decisions on foreign

policy. Its members, other than the Premier, were John

Simon, Lord Halifax, and Samuel Hoare, who had long

ago been brought back, quietly, into the Cabinet. Chamber-

lain was very much readier to listen to the opinion of these

men than to the considerations put forward by Eden.

On all matters of foreign policy Chamberlain preferred to

419

consult, not the Foreign Secretary, but Horace Wilson—an

adviser to the government on industry, who had much great-

er influence on governmental decisions than his official

position warranted. Wilson was Chamberlain’s trusted

aide, and a convinced supporter of “appeasement”. He took

charge of a number of very important diplomatic talks, at

Chamberlain’s instance, and he tried to exert influence on

what went on in the Foreign Office.

Later it became known that Horace Wilson had attempted

to plant an informer in the Foreign Office, who, behind

Eden’s back, would have reported to 10 Downing Street all

that happened in the Foreign Office. What had been decid-

ed on was the appointment of one of “their” men as Eden’s

Parliamentary Private Secretary.

In May 1937 his Parliamentary Private Secretary up to

that time—Roger Lumley—got promoted: he was appointed

to a post in India as Governor of Bombay. In place of Lum-

ley, someone by the name of Thomas was recommended to

Eden. Two weeks after the new Parliamentary Private

Secretary had taken up his duties, he was summoned to see

Horace Wilson and Warren Fisher, and a very curious con-

versation took place. According to Thomas, both men were

thoroughly dissatisfied with the Foreign Office and with

Robert Vansittart (the Permanent Under-Secretary at the

Foreign Office, who earlier had been Baldwin’s PPS).

“They told me that Vansittart was an alarmist,” Thomas lat-

er related, “that he hampered all attempts of the Govern-

ment to make friendly contact with the dictator states and

that his influence over Anthony Eden was very great. For

this reason they had strongly backed the idea that I, whom

Horace Wilson knew well, should become P.P.S. at the

Foreign Office because I would be in a position to help them

to build a bridge between 10 Downing Street and the For-

eign Office.” Thomas refused to go behind the back of his

chief.

At the end of 1937 Eden received convincing proof that

Chamberlain was determined to settle major matters of

foreign policy without reference to his Foreign Secretary,

and without even informing him. [In October the Foreign

Office gave a dinner in honour of the Prime Minister of

Yugoslavia, to which Winston Churchill among others was

invited. The latter witnessed how Halifax casually let drop,

in the course of conversation during dinner, the information

that he would be making “an unofficial visit” to Germany.

420

“Halifax ... said,” writes Churchill, “...that G6éring had in-

vited him to Germany on a sports visit, and the hope was

held out that he would certainly be able to see Hitler. He

said that he had spoken about it to the Prime Minister, who

thought it would be a very good thing, and therefore he

had accepted.” Churchill got the impression that Eden was

surprised by this news and did not like it. Indeed, Halifax's

trip had been organised without his even knowing of it.

The Sports Exhibition was only a pretext. In fact Halifax

was engaging in highly important negotiations, on behalf of

the British Government, with Hitler. On November 19,

1937, he and the Fithrer discussed a draft programme for a

general Anglo-German agreement to be concluded later.

Both participants exchanged assurances that their respec-

tive governments were unchanged in their hostility to the

USSR. Then Halifax made approving comments on all that

Nazism had so far achieved, at home and abroad. Britain,

he said, desired closer relations with Germany, so that the

two countries, together with Italy and France, might re-or-

ganise international relations in Europe.

Hitler demanded annulment of the Treaty of Versailles,

and brought in the threat of war to scare the British side.

Halifax declared Britain’s readiness to correct the mistakes

of Versailles at the expense of Danzig, Austria and Czechoslo-

vakia. But it would be desirable if all thiscould be achieved

without" war, meaning: by agreement with Britain. Then

Hitler remarked that Britain ought to return Germany's

colonies to her. This demand did not put Halifax off his

stroke. He replied that Chamberlain was of the opinion that

the colonial question could be resolved.

The agreement of the British Government had thus been

conveyed to Hitler that he could go ahead “settling” with

Austria, Czechoslovakia and Poland and even, in principle,

get the German colonies back. Halifax was insistent that

there should be an early start on negotiations for a general

Anglo-German agreement, i.e. an agreement covering all the

principal questions of interest to both countries. Hitler

avoided giving a direct answer here. He saw that the policy

of “appeasement” was changing the balance of forces in Ger-

many’s favour, and that the longer negotiations with Brit-

ain were deferred, the stronger would be Germany’s posi-

tion in such negotiations.

One”can"imagine Eden’s indignation when he learned the

tenor of Halifax’s “sports” talks in Germany. It meant that

424

the Foreign Secretary had been set aside while international

matters of the gravest import were decided.

On Halifax’s return the British Government started on

the formulation of concrete proposals on all aspects of a

“general settlement” with Germany. In “January 1938 a

joint draft was ready, which summarised the considerations

advanced by various departments on the “coming talks.

These concerned: a draft Western pact; arms limitation;

Germany's return to the League of Nations; Austria and

Czechoslovakia. Mention was also made of the “re-shuffle of

Central Africa’, so as to meet Germany’s demands for colo-

nial restitution. Settlement of all the cardinal problems

was provided for.

The position of the Foreign Office, i.e. Eden’s position,

was that consideration of the colonial question should not

start before discussion of the other aspects of the “general

settlement” was under way, and that Germany’s right to

the return of her former colonies should not be recognised

in advance. On January 24, 1938, this question was discussed

in the government’s Foreign Affairs Committee. In con-

nection with this discussion, Cadogan’s diary has this note:

“A. [Anthony Eden] ... only made point—accepted by

P.M. [Prime Minister]—that if we make colonial concessions

it is only as part of general settlement [Cadogan’s italics—

V.T.J.” On January 31 Eden, Chamberlain, Wilson and two

other senior officials from the Foreign Office return once

again to the plan for the forthcoming talks with Hitler.

Chamberlain suggests “doing the big thing” and giving Tan-

ganyika back to Germany. A month later Nevile Hender-

son, British Ambassador in Berlin, laid before Hitler the

British proposals for meeting his relish for colonies at the

expense of Central Africa. But the Ambassador had to re-

port that Hitler displayed no interest in the proposals for a

new colonial regime in Africa.

This behaviour on Hitler’s part had a simple explanation.

He meant to make into German colonies the territories of a

number of other countries, to the south and east of Germany.

Germany proposed to colonialise Europe, and was less in-

terested in Africa than London imagined. Later Eden re-

marked that even in 1936 he had felt that “Hitler did not

want colonies for the sake of raw materials or colonization,

but for reasons of power and prestige”.

New Year 1938 began for the Foreign Office with the

removal of Vansittart. Although a widely disseminated

122

version of this event makes Chamberlain responsible, in

fact it was rather the work of Eden.

Some believe that Vansittart was unacceptable to Cham-

berlain because he opposed “appeasement”. This is not so.

Vansittart was known for his anti-German sentiments. He

was firmly convinced that Hitler was duping the British

Government and that one could not believe a word he said.

But from this premise Vansittart did not draw the conclu-

sion that a change of policy was necessary. He was in

favour of agreement with the aggressor countries, of “appeas-

ing” them, but he called for caution, for a hedging of bets

in case Germany and Italy ratted on their “benefactors”.

Vansittart was a strong and determined character, with

firmly formulated views on matters of foreign policy. That is

why his superiors did not like him, not because his po-

litical concepts were any different from their own. His po-

sition as Permanent Under-Secretary at the Foreign Office

meant that he not only could but was obliged to give advice

and opinions for the benefit of his Minister, and that of the

Prime Minister too from time to time, on all matters falling

within the competence of the Foreign Office. He had great

erudition, a powerful mind and political sensitivity; such

aman could hardly suit either Eden or Chamberlain. Vansit-

tart used to lay before his superiors lengthy, closely-argued

memoranda. And when this or that question was under

discussion he maintained his opinion obstinately.

Vansittart was undoubtedly a stronger character than

either of his Ministers, and this is something not every Min-

ister likes. How could Eden like it, when at Cabinet meet-

ings some of his colleagues grumbled that he was “sing-

ing the tune” of his Permanent Under-Secretary. If the

head of the Foreign Office called for caution in negotiations

with Germany, some people began to say that foreign policy

was being decided not so much by Eden as by Vansittart.

As far back as 1936 Eden had been visited by the idea of

removing this man from the Foreign Office to somewhere at

a distance. He got Baldwin’s agreement that Vansittart

should be appointed Ambassador in Paris. It was an impor-

tant and honorific post. But Vansittart refused it. Eden

begged Baldwin (then still Premier) to put pressure on

him, but the pressure had no effect.

Eden came to the conclusion eventually that the man

must go, come what might. The task was made easier by

the fact that the Premier by this time was a man who quite

123

agreed with Eden on this point. Chamberlain was insistent

that Vansittart must go, but as Eden writes, “this of itself

would not have been enough if I had not felt that there

were other advantages”.

Eden decided to replace Vansittart by his deputy Alex-

ander Cadogan. Cadogan too was erudite and hard-working,

but his manner was quiet and unassuming. He had already

worked with Eden for some years, and Eden considered

him “his’ man. Though some decades later it transpired,

when Cadogan’s Diaries were published, that he had not

been anyone’s man, but had been advancing his own career

by falling in with the character of whatever chief he had.

And he despised all of them equally. “Silly bladders!”

he writes. “Self-advertising, irresponsible nincompoops. How

I hate [Cadogan’s italics—V.7.] Members of Parliament!

They embody everything that my training has taught me

to eschew—ambition, prejudice, dishonesty, self-seeking,

light-hearted irresponsibility, black-hearted mendacity.”

Such was the opinion of British political figures held by

someone who worked all his life in the upper echelons of the

Foreign Office, who was Permanent Under-Secretary under

Foreign Secretaries such as Eden, Halifax and Bevin, in

regular contact with Prime Ministers—Baldwin, Chamber-

lain, Churchill and Attlee.

So it was announced that Alexander Cadogan was ap-

pointed Permanent Under-Secretary at the Foreign Office,

and that Vansittart was “promoted”. For this purpose a post

was invented which never existed before and has not done

since, that of Chief Diplomatic Adviser to the Secretary of

State. His functions were to include “advising the Secretary

of State upon all major questions of policy concerning for-

eign affairs remitted to him for that purpose”. A wide brief.

But the Minister might not remit such questions to his

Chief Adviser. And Eden used his freedom of choice. The

post became a sinecure for Vansittart. The mainstream of

affairs bypassed him, coming from below, from the depart-

ments, through Cadogan to Eden; some documents only

were passed to Vansittart for appearances’ sake. It was

only rarely that he was invited to meetings of the upper

echelons of the Ministry. He occupied the office usually

reserved for the Permanent Under-Secretary, but he had_

no assistants or staff under him. On any document that came

his way he prepared a detailed memorandum, analysing all

the pros and cons. Eden and others to whom these mem-

124

oranda were addressed brushed Vansittart’s advice aside, in

which they were secretly but persistently encouraged by

Cadogan, who cherished a bitter hatred of Vansittart. The

latter was an obstinate man; he stood this state of things

until 1941, when he was at last obliged to resign.

Eden made Cadogan his right-hand man, entirely certain

that he was a convinced supporter of “appeasement” of the

aggressor countries. This was particularly important in view

of the key position Cadogan held.

The Permanent Under-Secretary at the Foreign Office is

responsible for the effective internal functioning of the

Ministry, he answers to Parliament for the funds allocated

by the latter to that Ministry, he gives recommendations

on the advancement or removal of members of its staff,

he receives envoys of foreign powers. His most important

duty is to give advice to the Minister on all foreign policy

matters. Through the discharge of this duty, the Permanent

Under-Secretary formulates the opinion and position of

his political chief on all aspects of international relations.

In the event of the post of Foreign Secretary going to someone

without training in these matters, not well informed on

international life (like Ernest Bevin, for example, just

after the Second World War), he becomes in effect an instru-

ment in the hands of the Permanent Under-Secretary and

other senior civil servants of the Ministry. In many cases

the Permanent Under-Secretary instructs different sections

of the Ministry or embassies abroad direct, without report-

ing to the Minister. In his hands is concentrated all the

correspondence coming in from British diplomatic repre-

sentatives abroad, from foreign embassies in London and

from the Ministry’s various departments. It is the Perma-

nent Under-Secretary who decides which of all these doc-

uments should be passed on to his chief and to other mem-

bers of the Cabinet.

It is therefore natural that a change of Under-Secretary

at the Foreign Office was an event that did not pass unno-

ticed. The German Embassy in London was trying to make

out what was behind Cadogan’s appointment. Having gath-

ered information on the matter, the German Chargé d’Af-

faires reported to Berlin that no particular change in the

direction of British foreign policy was to be expected as

a result of these changes at the Foreign Office, and that

Cadogan’s views largely coincided with those of Eden. This

Prognosis proved correct.

125

Eden had hardly had time to make his mind up whether

the changes had made life easier for him or not, when he

himself was forced to quit the Foreign Office.

The possibility of having to resign first appeared before

Eden in January 1938. He was very tired and had gone to

take a rest on the French Riviera. Winston Churchill and

Lloyd George had done the same; they were staying not

far away from Eden. The three men met and talked pol-

itics. Eden played tennis and went rowing.

It was a pleasant, peaceful holiday, until on the morning

of January 14 a telephone call came through from London.

It was Cadogan, informing him that unforeseen events had

occurred which could not be discussed over the telephone.

They required Eden’s immediate return to London. Eden

left that evening for Paris. Bad weather meant that he had

to continue his journey by train; there was a storm in the

Channel, and the ferry was damaged and had to dock in

Folkestone.

But Cadogan was already there on the quayside, with an

assistant and quantities of important documents. Looking

through these in the train, Eden realised straight away that

he had not been recalled for nothing. It appeared that dur-

ing the Foreign Secretary's absence an important communi-

cation from the President of the United States, Franklin

Delano Roosevelt, had arrived, addressed to Chamberlain.

Roosevelt expressed alarm at the rapid deterioration in

international relations and stressed that a number of small

or “middling” European states were starting to orientate

themselves on rapprochement with the aggressor countries.

This trend could lead to loss of influence by the democratic

countries, and it should therefore be halted as soon as pos-

sible.

The President proposed to call, simultaneously with the

efforts being made by the British Government to reach

agreement with Germany and Italy, a conference which

would prepare a proposal for all governments, inviting

them to accept some important principles to be observed

in international relations. These principles were to include

arms reductions, equal access to raw materials, and adher-

ence to rules of war. On the Treaty of Versailles, the Pres-

ident declared that some unjust particularities of the post-

war system might be removed. Roosevelt warned the British

Ambassador in Washington, Ronald Lindsay, that he expect-

ed an answer not later than January 17, and that if the

126

answer was favourable he would put his plan into operation

at once.

A very significant initiative! Undoubtedly the President

of the United States had perceived more clearly than did

the politicians of London and Paris the direction which

international relations were taking. But what Roosevelt had

in mind at that juncture was not the organisation of a col-

lective rebuff to the aggressors. He thought it possible to

negotiate a new “general settlement” with them, but under

the aegis of the USA, not of Great Britain as Chamberlain

wanted. The President was unperturbed by the fact that

American foreign policy at that time was, officially, isola-

tionist. He intended to intervene with energy in European

and world politics, to seize the initiative from the British

in making a deal with the aggressor countries and to get

such a deal construed by the efforts of the American Govern-

ment; hence his readiness to alter the Versailles-Washington

system (within certain limits, of course) in favour of Ger-

many, Italy and Japan.

Chamberlain, on receipt of the President’s proposal, never

thought of summoning Eden in order to discuss with him

Britain’s possible attitude. More than that; knowing that

Eden would be back quite soon, he refused to wait for his

arrival, and without even taking the advice of his Cabinet

colleagues sent a reply to the President which was not just

negative but violently so.

Chamberlain wrote that he himself was making efforts to

reach an agreement with Germany and, especially at that

particular moment, with Italy, and he would therefore be

prepared to recognise the Italian seizure of Ethiopia de jure.

Inasmuch as the President’s proposal cut across the efforts

being undertaken by the British, he should, in Chamberlain’s

opinion, postpone his plan.

This reply went off to Washington on January 413th;

Roosevelt was expecting his answer only by the 17th,

and Eden returned on the 15th.

If one discounts the well-worn phrases of diplomatic cour-

tesy, and there were not too many of them in this case, what

Chamberlain’s missive meant was: keep out of our business.

This very categorical attitude was due to the fact that Cham-

berlain had an unconcealed antipathy to America and the

Americans, and undoubtedly underestimated the growing

role of the USA in international affairs.

Eden too did not want the Americans taking over the

127

leading role in European affairs from the British, but he

was extremely alarmed when he saw that Chamberlain's

reply was couched in terms which would aggravate Anglo-

American relations in the highest degree, and would make

it difficult to get the cooperation of the United States (should

it be needed) in settling European affairs. As for the

Far East, there Britain was only too clearly unable to do any-

thing to protect her own interests without American

help.

Eden was highly indignant. His chief was demonstra-

tively ignoring him, and taking decisions behind his back

on matters where the opinion of the Foreign Secretary was

required aS a matter of course. On January 16 Eden went

to Chequers (it was a Sunday) and tried to explain to Cham-

berlain the possible bad effects, for Britain, of his reply to

Roosevelt. This was the first occasion on which he brought

into play the threat of resignation. At Eden’s insistence,

telegrams were sent to Washington which were intended

to soften the effect made by Chamberlain’s reply. But they

did not deceive Roosevelt; he postponed his plan.

Chamberlain gave way to Eden on points of detail, ac-

tually affecting only the terms in which the rejection of the

American initiative was couched, but at the same time he

took the decision that he would get rid of this awkward

Minister. This was done very shortly afterwards, in connec-

tion with Chamberlain’s intention of starting official talks

with Italy,on a “general settlement”.

From Chamberlain’s published diaries we know that as

far back as August 1937 he had sent a personal letter to

Mussolini. The conceited Premier liked this kind of corre-

spondence, and was happy to receive a reply signed per-

sonally by the fascist ringleader. He did not show Mus-

solini’s letter to Eden. Rees-Mogg notes: “When he became

Prime Minister, he made a habit of deceiving his Foreign

Secretary.”

Neville Chamberlain's sister-in-law (the wife of his de-

ceased, brother Austen) was suddenly an important diplo-

matic personage. She acted as intermediary, passing Cham-

berlain’s letters addressed to Mussolini over to Ciano, the

Italian Minister for Foreign Affairs, and receiving the

replies. There is a characteristic detail noted in Ciano’s

diary: when Lady Chamberlain made her appearances in

his office, she frequently wore the Italian fascist badge.

Chamberlain was in haste to begin talks with Italy on

128

a wide range of issues. He was trying to prise Italy away

from Germany, and for the sake of achieving that he was

prepared to recognise the seizure of Ethiopia.

On February 17, 1938, Neville Chamberlain wrote in his

diary: to suspend negotiations “would be to convince Mus-

solini that he must consider talks with us off, and act accord-

ingly... Italian public opinion would be raised to a white

heat against us... The dictatorships would be driven closer

together, the last shred of Austrian independence would

be lost, the Balkan countries would feel compelled to turn

towards their powerful neighbours, Czechoslovakia would

be swallowed, France would either have to submit to German

domination or fight, in which case we should almost cer-

tainly be drawn in. I could not face the responsibility for

allowing such a series of catastrophes.” Such was Chamber-

lain’s concept three days before Eden’s resignation.

Let us quote an interesting analysis, to our mind, of this

concept, an analysis made by Randolph Churchill over

quarter of a century later. “There seem to be no fewer than

six false assumptions contained in this short diary entry,”

he writes. “He [Chamberlain] assumes that six misfortunes

would come upon our country”, if he were frustrated from his

urgent desire to have talks with Mussolini: “4)‘...the dicta-

torships would be driven closer together.’ Although Chamber-

lain had his way and had his chat, they were. 2) ‘...the last

shred of Austrian independence would be lost.’ This event

occurred twenty-two days later. 3) ‘...the Balkan countries

would feel compelled to turn towards their powerful neigh-

bours.’ They did. 4) ‘...Czechoslovakia would be swal-

lowed.’ With Chamberlain’s help it was. 5) ‘...France would

either have to submit to German domination or fight.’

France did both... 6) ‘...In which case we should almost

certainly be drawn in.’ We were.” Thus history over-

turned all the main premises of Chamberlain and those who

thought as he did. But it needed the test of time.

One must bear clearly in mind that Eden too was in favour

of talks with Italy, and for the same purpose, i.e. “appease-

ment”. But he, unlike Chamberlain, insisted that before

official talks began (unofficial ones were already in progress,

and the difference between official and unofficial negotia-

tions is not always very great), Rome must demonstrate its

readiness to keep its word by fulfilling the promise already

made to London that the so-called Italian “volunteers” would

be withdrawn from Spain. The differences between Chamber-

3~01222 129

lain and Eden were thus over purely tactical considerations

and had no bearing on the strategic line of British policy

towards Italy. But the Prime Minister's insultingly cavalier

attitude to his Foreign Secretary, his demonstrative desire

to take action on foreign affairs behind the latter’s back,

made Eden’s position unbearable.

Matters were complicated by the fact that the Italians

knew about Chamberlain’s attitude to the head of the For-

eign Office. They knew because they received copies of all

the important papers coming in to the British Embassy

in Rome. Among the junior staff of the Embassy there was

an Italian, who in return for a very handsome sum of money,

supplied this valuable information to the Italian Foreign

Ministry. Ciano was not exaggerating when he wrote in his

diary: “We read everything the British send.” This piece of

espionage only became known to the British in 1944, and

then the agent went unpunished since he was an Italian

citizen.

Another reliable source of information for Mussolini

was a secret connection between one Joseph Ball, who was

on the staff of the Conservative Party, and a middle-rank-

ing official of the Italian Embassy in London. Later Ball

was knighted “for his services to the nation”. It is said

that Eden knew about this channel of information, but

considered it unimportant. A mistake!

Under such circumstances one can hardly wonder that the

Italian Ambassador, Grandi, had the impudence to reply

to an invitation from Eden to come and see him that he

was too busy, he was booked for a game of golf.

Having refused to see Eden on either the 16th or the

17th of February, Grandi none the less found time to meet

a secret emissary of Chamberlain’s, who had according to the

Ambassador been acting as a means of direct contact be-

tween him and Chamberlain since October 1937. Thus a meet-

ing was arranged on February 18, 1938 between Grandi

and Chamberlain.

Chamberlain wanted it to be téte-a-tete, but Eden insisted

that three persons be present. The meeting was typical

in that Chamberlain accepted all the conditions laid down by

the Italians: he undertook to recognise the seizure of Ethio-

pia, to make a loan of £25 million available to Italy, and

to travel to Rome in person to meet Mussolini. There is no

precedent in diplomatic history for a Prime Minister and

a foreign Ambassador openly acting against the former’s

130

Minister—for a Premier to make common cause with the

Ambassador and set aside all the advice of his own Min-

ister.

But even more incredible things happened that same

evening. Grandi notes that after the talks in Downing Street

Chamberlain sent his liaison man to see him. As arranged

beforehand, they met in an _ ordinary London taxi.

The agent told Grandi that Chamberlain sent his hearty

congratulations, that the Prime Minister agreed with what

the Ambassador had said, that it had all been very useful

to him, and that he was sure all would go well the next

day.

The Prime Minister had by his actions already dismissed

Eden, in effect, from the discharge of his duties, and the

latter could do nothing but resign. Later Duff Cooper gave

an account of Chamberlain’s behaviour when the matter

was discussed in Cabinet: “While allowing his colleagues

to suppose that he was as anxious as any of them to dis-

suade the Foreign Secretary from resigning, he had, in real-

ity, determined to get rid of him, and had secretly in-

formed the Italian Ambassador that he hoped to succeed

in doing so.”

Finally Eden’s resignation was made. Not all the members

of the government by any means realised what it was all

about, but they supported Chamberlain. Hailsham, the

Lord Chancellor, expressed the view of the majority of his

Cabinet colleagues when he wrote to his son: “I can’t tell

you why Anthony resigned because I couldn’t make out

myself.” This was natural enough. For, as Thompson notes,

the differences between Chamberlain and Eden concerned

matters of detail only—the timing of talks with Italy.

Ministers do not abandon their posts for such minor mat-

ters as that! The discussion in the Cabinet was prolonged,

and in the end one of the Ministers present, taking in all

good faith the Premier’s hypocritical position, proposed

that in order to keep Eden in the government he should be

allowed to conduct the negotiations with Italy as he saw fit.

Chamberlain, fearing that this might lead to a compromise,

ignored the proposal and said to Eden: “Then you will

send me your letter [of resignation—V.7.].”

One should bear in mind that for Eden and for British

bourgeois historiography it is not merely advantageous but

highly necessary to present the matter as though Eden’s

resignation was evoked by considerations of political princi-

Qs 134

ple. It is necessary to raise his prestige, and to rehabilitate

the Conservative Party. But the facts are, as they say,

there for all to see, and allow one to establish the truth

without particular difficulty.

The circumstances of Eden's resignation bear witness that

he was not at all anxious to go, but that Chamberlain

was very anxious that he should go. In order to put pres-

sure on Eden, the Premier and those closest to him invented

a version of the matter which indicated that Eden needed

to resign or at least to stand down for a time for alleged

health reasons. Eden’s appearance, fresh as he was from

an excellent holiday on the Riviera, was visible evidence

of the lack of truth in the assertion, but this did not worry

those who had invented it. On February 18 John Simon came

to see Eden, talked at length about indifferent matters, and

at the end of it all said: “Take care of yourself, Anthony.

You look rather tired. Are you certain that you're all right?”

Eden assured him that he was in perfect health.

That was not the end of it, though. Before long Simon met

Eden’s PPS, Thomas, told him that he was as fond of Eden

as if he had been his own son, that he was becoming more and

more depressed in watching him at Cabinet meetings, and

had come to the conclusion that “he was both physically

and mentally ill”. A six months’ holiday could restore

him, and it was very important that Thomas should go away

with him. “During this period he and his Cabinet colleagues

would keep his seat warm for him and look after foreign

affairs.” Thomas replied that his chief had just returned

from a good holiday in the south of France and that his

health had never been better. But Simon insisted, and as-

sured Thomas that all this lay in his hands. He begged

him to be sensible and take Eden away. Thomas refused,

being always loyal to his chief.

Then it was the turn of Horace Wilson to work on Thomas:

he rang up to say that “all was up and that Anthony would

resign for reasons of health”. After which he added mean-

ingfully that “it would be better for him ... and what is

more, it would be better for you if you persuaded him to

do so”.

On February 20, 1938, Eden sent Chamberlain his letter

of resignation. The last paragraph of this was calculated to

reassure the leader of the Conservative Party. “May I end on

a personal note?” wrote Eden. “I can never forget the help

and counsel that you have always so readily given me, both

132

before and since you became Prime Minister. Our differ-

ences, whatever they may be, cannot efface that memory nor

influence our friendship.” What is this—empty words of

formal courtesy, very popular in British political life, or

a programme for relations in the future, an assurance of the

writer's complete reliability?

The debate in Parliament should provide the answer to

that question. According to tradition, a member of govern-

ment who resigns has the right, and is given the oppor-

tunity, to explain his reasons before the House of Commons,

and defend his position. Winston Churchill, angry because

he had not been offered a place in the government, and

likewise because of Chamberlain’s too-conciliatory attitude

to Hitler and Mussolini, decided that Eden’s resignation

gave him a chance to mount an attack on the Cabinet. So on

the eve of Eden’s appearance before the House Churchill

sent him a letter advising him not to spare his former col-

leagues in the interests of the country.

But Eden had not the least intention of organising and

leading a campaign against the Chamberlain Government.

He wanted to retire with dignity, but calmly and quietly,

without irritating the upper echelons of party and govern-

ment. So his speech was mild, vague and evasive. It was

clearly a disappointment to the Members of Parliament,

especially those who were doubtful and critical of the pol-

icy of “appeasement”.

Not one of the members of the Cabinet took Eden’s part.

The only ones who resigned along with him were his dep-

uty, Cranborne, and their respective Parliamentary Private

Secretaries Thomas and Patrick, plus the Parliamentary

Private Secretary to the Overseas Trade Department, Ron-

ald Tree. It is acknowledged by all that Cranborne’s speech

on his motives for resignation was more definite and more

militant than Eden’s.

The Opposition tried to use the debate to attack the gov-

ernment’s foreign policy. Their speeches were much more

barbed than Eden’s, but the vagueness and lack of content

in his contribution made it much more difficult to crit-

icise Chamberlain. In his reply, the Prime Minister stressed

that he and Eden were united in their view of the ultimate

aims of foreign policy, they had parted company only on

the means to be used to attain those aims. Eden made no

disclaimer to this, for it was true. Chamberlain went on to

: Say that he himself and other members of the government

133

had hoped that Eden “would not feel this of sufficient impor-

tance to necessitate a parting”.

The Labour Opposition moved a vote of no confidence in

the government on the matter of Eden’s resignation. When it

came to the vote, only one Conservative voted against the

government, and it was not Eden, but Adams. Eden,

Cranborne, Churchill and some other Conservatives,

under twenty in all, abstained.

In the country dissatisfaction with “appeasement” was

growing. A number of statesmen of a realistic turn of mind

were gradually coming to see the danger inherent in a policy

of concessions and deals with the fascist powers. These people

expected that Eden, having left the government, would

head the struggle to get foreign policy changed. But their

hopes were disappointed straight away.

Some historians consider that Eden did not take up this

fight because he was not a fighter by nature. Thompson writes

that “he was constitutionally incapable of leading a revolt...

He assumed ... the role of moderate and cautious, if highly

respected, critic.”

This judgement is fair enough, but it is not the whole truth.

What is extremely important is the fact that there were no

political disagreements of principle between Eden and

Chamberlain, Halifax, Simon and their like. The evidence

for this is there in all his work in the field of foreign policy

when a member of the “National” Government and up to

his resignation, in his behaviour during his resignation and

in subsequent years. It is interesting to read the comment

made by Eden himself in his Memoirs thirty years on, when

history and historiography had already pronounced their

final verdict on Chamberlain and his policy. “Reading over

the papers concerning my resignation,” he writes, “it is my

conviction that if the Foreign Secretary had been allowed

to continue to handle the negotiations with Count Grandi,

in his own time and by his own methods, which were those

of normal diplomacy, he would have secured, with less

risk, as much progress in Anglo-Italian relations as the

mood of the dictator in Rome made possible.”

That, then, is Eden’s own last word. One may fairly

ask—where is the disagreement with Chamberlain’s line,

with the policy of “appeasement”, in this? There is none.

So what is left? All that is left is a difference of opinion

on technical details, on the methods by which that policy

was to be applied. Eden is regretting that he was not given

134

the chance to carry through Chamberlain’s concept in prac-

tice, he is sure that he could have done it much better,

by traditional diplomatic methods.

Could Eden have headed a fight against Chamberlain,

when his only difference with him was a technical one,

not affecting any political concept? Of course he could not.

This absence of any profound difference of principle gives

rise to one more reason for Eden’s restrained behaviour at

the time of his resignation and in the ‘period following—

his hope and desire that he might come back into the govern-

ment. This was an important consideration urging him to

show restraint and calm, and not in any circumstances to

exacerbate relations with Chamberlain. ‘Tom Jones, who

was Cabinet secretary and very well informed, wrote to

a friend overseas after a talk with Eden: “He is popular

with the Left, but does not want to bang the door against

his return to the Right... Baldwin and Halifax are sym-

pathetic to Eden’s present attitude.”

Such was Anthony Eden’s behaviour after finding ‘himself

obliged to quit the Foreign Office. This to a large extent

determined the reaction within the country to his resigna-

tion. Some historians, writers of memoirs, and biographers

tell us that at the moment of crisis a crowd gathered in

Downing Street and greeted Eden with applause as he

left No. 10. But they are clearly exaggerating the signifi-

cance of this scene. The reaction of public opinion in general

was cool, and the government’s position was not shaken.

On February 25 Eden made a speech in his constituency of

Leamington. There he was greeted by singing and shouts of

“Recall Eden!” But on this occasion Eden’s words were even

kinder to the government than in his speech to the House of

Commons. The Leamington speech found favour in Chamber-

lain’s eyes, and he sent Eden a letter: “After reading your

speech to your constituents last night, I should like to

send you a few friendly words ... the dignity and restraint

of your speech must add further to your reputation.” A clear

word of advice ‘that Eden should continue to behave in

the same way.

The reaction in the British press was unexcited: no change

in“British policy was foreseen as likely to follow Eden’s

resignation.

The fascist newspapers, especially those in Italy, which

had been conducting a campaign against Eden, greeted

the event with cries of joy and congratulation to Chamberlain.

135

One Italian paper referred to Eden as the corpse that had »

been removed from Downing Street. |

But Eden was far from being a political corpse. He had

been a lucky man from the beginning, and he was lucky

now, very lucky. By resigning in February 1938, Eden

created for himself the reputation (even if undeserved)

of an opponent of “appeasement” and a supporter of ener-

getic resistance to the aggressor powers, thus clearing the

way for him to return to government during the Second

World War and even become (in 1955) Prime Minister of

Great Britain.

“The drama of Eden’s resignation,” writes Randolph

Churchill, “his ‘broken career’, purged him of all the mal-

feasance of the MacDonald-Baldwin decade, for which he

was every bit as responsible as MacDonald, Baldwin, Hoare,

Simon and Halifax. When, in later years, ‘appeasement’

(first used by Eden as a term of diplomatic art) reared its

head as a dirty word, Eden was in public estimation sacro-

sanct, because of his act of resignation. Though he certainly

did not plan it this way, it was his resignation which ulti-

mately led ... to his becoming Prime Minister of Great

Britain.” A. J. P. Taylor, the historian has stated the same

irrefutable truth. :

Eden’s time out of office proved rather short—only 18

months. He himself never thought he would be so fortunate.

Immediately after resigning Eden and his wife left for

the south of France. He did not reappear in the House of

Commons until two months later. The ex-office-holder, around

whom various persons were agitating in the hope of using

him as a counter against the‘ Chamberlain Government,

hastened to leave London for the shores of the Mediter-

ranean until the fuss over his resignation should have died

down. It died down quite quickly, for soon public attention

was diverted to important international events. During the

eighteen months that elapsed before he again entered the

government, Eden thought a lot and spoke little.

At this time Eden was 44. He looked younger, as always

he took great care with his appearance and made a good

impression on audiences, especially the women. He had

attained maturity now, and acquired great experience of

Civil Service.

His resignation had brought him fresh popularity. So

naturally newspapers regularly asked him to contribute

articles, for large fees. A publisher offered him advanta-

136

geous terms for a book on foreign policy. Tempting offers

came to him from the business world. Eden did not take

up these opportunities, for he did not consider his polit-

ical career to be at an end. He hoped to enter the govern-

ment again one day.

But for the time being he rested on the shores of the

Mediterranean, playing his favourite game, tennis, and occa-

sionally exchanging letters on political matters with a few

friends. He abstained from any public pronouncements on

political questions. By his own admission, he did not want

to embarrass the government.

Beatrice, on the principle that “every dark cloud has a sil-

ver lining”, was happy that at last Anthony had time to be

with his family. She had had only a vague idea, time was, of

his ministerial cares, the things that kept him so occupied;

she had felt for him in the troubles that beset him in the

first two months of 1938, but she had not the capability or

the desire to enter very deeply into the matters that so con-

cerned him. Politics frankly bored her and she had no

interest in them. She was probably not given any great

pleasure by Anthony dedicating a volume of his speeches

to her, with the superscription “To B. E. from A. E. In

gratitude to a patient listener to each one of these pages”.

Certainly she would have actually found reading the book

far from interesting, even dull.

Tn April 1938 Eden received a letter from Churchill! inform-

ing him that Chamberlain and Halifax (who had taken over

as Foreign Secretary) had completed their talks with Mus-

solini. Churchill wrote: “The Italian pact is, of course,

a complete triumph for Mussolini, who gains our cordial

acceptance for his fortification of the Mediterranean against

us, for his conquest of Abyssinia, and for his violence in

Spain.” Eden replied: “Mussolini gives us nothing more than

the repetition of promises previously made and broken by

him...” Eden shared, by and large, Churchill’s opinion of

Chamberlain’s Italian “achievement”.

“YAt the end of the year the British Ambassador in Rome,

Lord Perth, presented his credentials, which were addressed

to “the King of Italy and Emperor of Ethiopia”. The agree-

ment reached was in force.

Eden kept silence when on March 12, 1938 Hitler moved

Nazi troops into Austria, contrary to the provisions of the

Treaties of Versailles and St. Germain, and “attached” that

hitherto independent country to Germany, The attack on

437

Austria’s independence had started while Eden was still

Foreign Secretary, with Hitler taking various steps to fa-

cilitate later seizure of the country. At that time too Eden

! had said nothing. Dennis Bardens comments: “It is strange

to reflect that Eden made no public statement in defence

of Austria at this hour, nor did he hesitate to abandon

| Austria to her fate.”

What is more, under the Stresa Agreement, concluded in

1935, Britain, France and Italy were bound to support

Austria if any threat to her independence arose. When Eden

was asked in Parliament, shortly before his resignation,

whether the British Government would meet its commit-

ments under this agreement, he had replied that Britain

was not bound to take the initiative in the matter and

would take action only if requested to do so by France and

Italy. A dishonest answer, for Eden knew very well that

France would not take the initiative, and still less would

Italy, since Mussolini was already Hitler's ally at the time.

But this reply in Parliament had another, further aspect:

| Hitler was thereby informed officially that if he seized

Austria he would not meet with any opposition from'Britain,

in spite of the Treaties of Versailles and St. Germain and

the Stresa Agreement.

But the reply thus given by Eden ceases to be surprising

if one recollects that the British Government had long ago

included Austria on the list of concessions that must be

made to Nazism in order to “appease” it. Halifax had given

British agreement to German annexation of Austria in

a conversation with Hitler. When the threat of German ag-

gression against Austria was discussed by the Cabinet on

February 16, Eden had not proposed that Britain meet its

treaty obligations towards Austria. He told the members of

the Cabinet that he “would have to watch the situation

very carefully and he would have to keep in close contact

with the Prime Minister”. Thus run the minutes of the

Cabinet meeting.

“~Eden and other leading figures in the Foreign Office were

quite at one with Chamberlain and Halifax on the matter.

This is confirmed by Cadogan’s cynical comments in his

diary. On March 11 he writes: “News coming in all the

morning that Germany is moving against Austria... At

the end of the day, H. [Halifax] and I agreed that our con-

sciences'were clear!” A strange conception of clear political

conscience. Later Cadogan wrote to Henderson in Berlin

138

saying: “Thank Goodness, Austria’s out of the way.”

It was evident to the British Government that after the

annexation of Austria Nazi Germany would turn its hungry

gaze on Czechoslovakia. In the context of Austrian affairs, the

Foreign Policy Committee on March 18 discussed the pos-

sibility of German aggression against Czechoslovakia. The

following entry appears in Cadogan’s diary for that day:

“F.P.C. [Foreign Policy Committee] unanimous that Czech-

oslovakia is not worth the bones of a single British Gren-

adier. And they’re quite right too!” Thus the ruling elite

of Britain decided, long before Munich, to hand Czechoslo-

vakia over to Hitler.

The Soviet Government understood very well that each

new act of fascist aggression brought a world war nearer.

The USSR therefore made an energetic protest against Germa-

ny’s absorption of Austria and proposed to the governments

of several countries, including Britain, that measures be

taken against possible further acts of aggression. The Soviet

Government expressed its readiness “to participate in col-

lective actions aimed at halting the further development

of aggression”, and its agreement “to immediately launch

on discussions with other powers, in the League of Nations

or outside it, on practical measures dictated by the cir-

cumstances. Tomorrow may be too late, but today the time

has not yet passed for doing this.”

The British Government immediately rejected the Soviet

proposal. Quite understandably. Neville Chamberlain had

a boundless hatred of the USSR and naturally did not

want to act together with it: such cooperation did not

enter into his concept of foreign policy. The day after the

Soviet proposal was made he wrote in his diary about

the Russians “stealthily and cunningly pulling all the

strings behind the scenes to get us involved in war with

Germany (our Secret Service doesn’t spend all its time

looking out of the window)”.

Like many people, limited people especially, Chamberlain

judged others by himself, i.e.“he attributed his own inten-

tions to the Soviet Government. The British Prime Minister

was striving to egg Germany on against the USSR and

thought that that was acunning political line, sonaturally

he could not but think that Moscow was doing the same;

in their place it was what he would have done.

As for the British Intelligence Service, its agents were

very diligently trying to look in at windows, Soviet ones.

139

But they did not have a great deal of success. After the

Second World War British statesmen admitted that the

ideas they had had in the late thirties on Soviet capa-

bilities proved to be hopelessly wrong, which is evidence

that the information on the Soviet Union which the Secret

Service provided for the British Government was a long

way wide of the mark. This is certainly also true of the

information they got on the aims of Soviet foreign policy.

At that period neither Eden nor yet Churchill expressed

themselves in favour of joint action with the USSR to avert

war. Precious time was trickling away, the danger of world

war was growing, but the “appeasers” in London pressed on

regardless...

The policy of “appeasement” reached its culminating

point in the autumn of 1938, when Czechoslovakia was sur-

rendered to Hitler. London was trying to get the fascist

powers, in return for concessions made (at the expense of

other countries, of course), to carry out their acts of aggres-

sion with the agreement and at the behest of the British

Government. Their second aim was that “appeasement” should

lead to a “general settlement” of European affairs, i.e. to

a general agreement between Britain, Germany and Italy.

The surrender of Czechoslovakia to Hitler would, in the

opinion of the British Government, assist in the realisa-

tion of both these aims.

The problem of Czechoslovakia proved to be possibly the

hardest for the British Government to manage. The diffi-

culty was that they had not only to compel the Czechoslovak

Government to betray its own country and people for the

benefit of the Nazis, not only to get the French Government

to betray Czechoslovakia by refusing to honour the mutual

assistance agreement between them, but also to create by

diplomatic intrigue a political situation in which the Soviet

Union would be unable to meet its treaty obligations to

come to the assistance of Czechoslovakia. Since the USSR

did not waver, but expressed itself ready to come to the

aid of the Czechoslovak Republic at the first call of the

Czechoslovak Government, it somehow had to be so man-

aged that the Czechoslovak Government should refuse that

assistance. The position of the “appeasers”, and of the

treacherous reactionary forces within Czechoslovakia which

had betrayed their own people, was complicated by the

fact that the Soviet Union was ready to assist Czechoslova-

kia even in the event of the French Government not doing

140

—————————— e ee

so. So hostilities between Gertiany and Czechoslovakia had

to be prevented, because the system of alliances might

have come into operation and Germany was sure to have

been crushed, which might mean the end of the Nazi regime.

The British Government could not contemplate such a thing.

On March 16, 1938, there was a meeting of the British

Cabinet which worked out a concrete plan for Britain’s

betrayal of Czechoslovakia. It was decided, firstly, “to

persuade the French to abandon their guarantee of Czech-

oslovakia”, secondly, “induce the Czech Government to

remedy the grievances of the Sudeten Germans [i.e. to

hand the Sudetenland over to Germany)” and, thirdly,

together with the French Government “concentrate their

efforts on getting Hitler to accept this solution to the Czech-

oslovakian problem”.

Remedying the “grievances” of the Sudeten Germans, as

formulated by the Nazis, inevitably meant dismemberment

of Czechoslovakia, and a dismembered Czechoslovakia would

very quickly be completely swallowed up by Germany.

That was the import of the Cabinet decision of March 16.

Alan Lennox-Boyd, a Conservative who knew of the plan,

declared in public that “Germany could absorb Czechoslo-

vakia and Great Britain would remain secure”. That was

what the Chamberlain Government believed.?!

Hitler knew this, and hastened to seize Czechoslovakia.

His haste almost led to highly unpleasant complications

in May 1938, when it became clear that Germany might

meet with armed resistance from Czechoslovakia, and that

its allies might come to its aid. The British Government,

alarmed at the possible consequences, insisted that any

action to take over Czechoslovakia must be postponed, and

set about feverishly preparing a “peaceful” settlement of

the problem. All the decencies were cast aside. System-

atic pressure was brought to bear on the Czechs and on the

French to ensure that they would accept the plan conceived

in London for the dismemberment of Czechoslovakia.

As historians have since remarked, Chamberlain literally

ran around after Hitler. On September 15 he goes to Berchtes-

gaden to meet the Fuhrer, and reaches agreement with him

on the handing over to Germany of the Sudetenland. French

Government representatives are hastily summoned to Lon-

don and browbeaten into agreeing to the conditions formu-

lated at Berchtesgaden. It seems as though everything

1s on the point of being settled. On September 22 Chamberlain

141

rushes back to Hitler at Bad Godesberg, but returns utterly

bewildered. The Fihrer put forward fresh and far-reaching

demands. Again France’s leaders are put under pressure

to capitulate to Nazi Germany.

At the same time, the government in London put in train

a number of measures designed to scare the British people

by the threat of imminent war, so that they would accept

a “settlement” of the Czechoslovak problem as rescuing

peace, for themselves and other nations, and would be

properly grateful to Chamberlain. So trenches were dem-

onstratively dug in the London parks, gas-masks were is-

sued, the papers carried pictures of new-born infants in

hospitals being placed in gas-proof containers, etc., etc.

A state of alarm was created, a psychological atmosphere

built up of inevitably advancing dire danger. It had its

effect.

Members of Parliament were recalled from their hol-

idays and Parliament sat on September 28. Chamberlain

spoke at length on the existing situation. A note was then

passed to him, he read it and then announced that he had

received an invitation from Hitler to attend a conference

in Munich on the following day, a conference in which

France and Italy would also take part. The atmosphere

was such that the whole House, including the Labour

Opposition, rose and applauded Chamberlain. Harold Nic-

olson, himself a Conservative, described this scene as “one

of the most lamentable exhibitions of mass hysteria”. The

leaders of all the parties rushed to congratulate Chamberlain.

Even his consistent opponent, the experienced Churchill,

drew a cheer as he cordially shook the Prime Minister’s hand

and said: “I congratulate you on your good fortune. You

were very lucky.” Some Members shouted: “Thank God for

the Prime Minister!”

On September 29, 1938, there was a meeting in Munich

attended by Chamberlain, Hitler, Mussolini and the French

Premier Daladier. This conference decided that the Sude-

tenland should be handed over to Germany. The decision

was conveyed to the Czechoslovak representatives, who took

no part in the conference and awaited its outcome in a sep-

arate room. They were told that “this was a sentence without

right of appeal and without possibility of modification”.

And they accepted their sentence. After that, Czechoslovakia

as an independent state had less than six months left to

live.

142

In return for services rendered, Chamberlain intended to

get his reward from Hitler. He asked him to sign a declara-

tion on the future of Anglo-German relations. On Septem-

ber 30 an interpreter read over to Hitler the text of the

declaration, prepared by Strang and corrected by Chamber-

lain, and the Fuhrer immediately, after hearing it once

and giving it no thought or discussion, signed the paper.

Chamberlain had set up the deal without even informing

his ally, Daladier.

The Anglo-German declaration of September 30 was in

effect a pact of non-aggression and collaboration. Chamber-

lain thought that this declaration guaranteed Britain against

war with Germany, but Hitler could take it as a guarantee

that Britain would not oppose any further acts of aggres-

sion by him.

Chamberlain was greeted,with rejoicing in Britain. Alight-

ing, from the aeroplane, he waved the declaration with

Hitler’s signature and cried: “I’ve got it!’ In Downing

Street an enthusiastic crowd had gathered to greet the

“peace-maker”. The Prime Minister came out and declared:

“This is the second time ... that there has come back from

Germany to Downing Street peace with honour. I believe

it is peace for our time.” Chamberlain bore himself like con-

queror.

Disenchantment soon set in. Even at the time of Cham-

berlain’s first trips to see Hitler some statesmen had real-

ised that a dangerous situation for Britain was being created:

concessions to Germany and Italy were resulting in a growth

of their military and strategic potential and a relative weak-

ening of that of Britain and France. The balance of power

was being shifted more and more in favour of the fascist

powers. And this meant that a terrible threat was building

up to the positions of Britain and France both in Europe

and beyond.

In March Brigadier-General Spears, who had been in Czech-

oslovakia at the time of Hitler’s march into Austria, had

demanded that the “Western Democracies” stand by Czech-

oslovakia, for if they ,did not, “Nazi Germany will pre-

dominate ... as far as the Bosphorus, absorbing on its way

immense resources, from the wheat of Hungary to the oil

of Romania”. As a military man, Spears also took into

account the consequences of Hitler’s seizure of the mighty

Czech armament establishments (the Skoda works).

As the balance of power progressively altered to the

143

detriment of Britain, a number of statesmen in London

began to give more and more thought to relations with

the Soviet Union.

A well-known Conservative politician, Leopold Amery,

noted in his diary at the time of the Munich conference:

“If this were the prelude to a real European settlement ...

(the exclusion of Russia) would certainly not weigh with

me, for | have always looked before this issue became acute,

to Germany, France and Italy working together with our

co-operation as forming the only basis of a satisfactory

European system excluding Russia.” The plans of Amery

and his fellows were not confined to “excluding Russia”

from Europe. The deal made at Munich was intended to

assist in the provocation of armed conflict between the

fascist powers and the USSR.

Such was the British strategy of foreign relations at that

time. But its realisation in practice was dependent upon

many factors beyond the control of a Conservative Govern-

ment. What if Germany acted not according to schedule,

as laid down by London, and, under the banner of revanche,

moved West first, as Eden had been warned in Moscow

in 1935? Thoughts of such a possibility immediately brought

to mind thoughts of the Soviet Union. Should there not

be some re-ensurance, taking advantage of the readiness

of the USSR to link up with other countries to resist ag-

gression?

The inconsistency shown by British politicians, beset

as they were by doubts and fears, is quite amazing. Even

Winston Churchill, whose positions were apparently the

clearest and most well delined, was on May 31 speaking in

favour of satisfying German claims on Czechoslovakia, and.

at the end of August trying to convince Halifax that Britain

and France should join with the USSR in issuing a firm

warning to Hitler.

By September 1938 a number of Conservatives, alarmed by

Chamberlain’s doings, were showing increased interest in

possible cooperation with the USSR in the event of mil-

itary conflict with Germany. On September 26 Amery dis-

cussed this matter with a group of other Conservatives and

pleaded with them not to make any public statements sup-

porting cooperation with the USSR. “At the moment,” he

said, “it would only put off many of our people, while once

war is declared they will only too readily welcome help

from the Devil himself.” A notable way of putting it! It

144

sums up the feelings of Conservatives towards the USSR,

and we shall meet it once more when referring to the speech

made over the radio by the British Prime Minister on

June 22, 1941.

On October 3 a four-day debate on the Munich Conference

began in the House of Commons. It showed that a certain

sobering-up had sel, in’ even among the ranks of Conser-

vative MPs. One Cabinet member, First Lord of the Ad-

miralty Duff Cooper, resigned in protest against the Munich

Agreement. But he tried not to annoy Chamberlain too

much in the process. When another Minister, Walter Elliot,

suggested that he would also resign, Duff Cooper persuaded

him not to do so.

Duff Cooper's speech in Parliament displays the main

lines along which the dissatisfaction of some Conserva-

tives with Munich was developing. The point, he said, was

not so much Czechoslovakia, but Germany’s intention to

dominate Europe. Chamberlain was wrong in thinking that

Hitler’s word could be trusted. He ought not to have signed

an important declaration without consulting his colleagues

in the government, his Allies, the governments of the

Dominions, or the experts of the Foreign Office.

Winston Churchill declared that Germany, without firing

a shot, had achieved a dominating position in Europe, which

she had failed to win after four years of fighting in the First

World War. It was, he said, “a tremendous victory for

Hitler... He has overturned the balance of power in Europe.”

There were quite a few similar speeches.

Thompson writes that Anthony Eden “delivered a weaker

speech along the same lines, but his remarks were overshad-

owed by the impassioned and telling denunciations of his

younger colleagues”. This is too kind an assessment. For

Eden began his speech with obsequious compliments to

Chamberlain. At such a juncture, this was a political matter,

not an ethical one. “Whatever the strain,” Eden said, “...it

was insignificant by comparison with the strain that rested ...

upon my Right Honourable Friend the Prime Minister

himself... Now for the moment we can breathe again.”

It was a species of support for the Prime Minister. Then

Eden remarked that the reception accorded Chamberlain

in Germany was “a manifestation of the deep desire of

the German people for peace”. This was outright support

for Chamberlain’s Nazi collaborator. Any ordinary British

hearer would take the words as applying to the German

10~01222 145

Government and to Iitler. It is a classical example of the

deliberately ambiguous phrase.

Yet the overall mood of the House of Commons was bound

to convey a warning. Chamberlain and his group were

seriously worried. Threats were brought into play. The

discontented were told that if they voted against the govern-

ment, Chamberlain would immediately call a General Elec-

tion, while the voters were still feeling grateful to him for

“saving peace”, and all those who now opposed the govern-

ment would get thrown overboard. The Conservative Party

would exclude them from its list of candidates, and if they

stood as Independents everything possible would be done

to see they lost the seats.

At the end of the debate there was a vote of confidence

in the government. The Labour Opposition, naturally, voted

against it. Twenty-two Conservatives abstained, in spite

of the threats and blackmail. Among these were Amery,

Churchill, Duff Cooper, Cranborne, Macmillan and Eden.

Not one, neither Churchill, nor Duff Cooper, nor Eden,

voted against the government’s Munich deal.

Eden was playing his cards carefully. He was not active

either inside or outside Parliament. But the few public ut-

terances he did make showed that the speaker adhered to

a definite programme. Eden was advancing the idea of

a true coalition government in which all parties (not includ-

ing the Communist Party, of course) would be represented;

which would ensure social justice within the country and

carry through an effective foreign policy abroad. The foggy

phrases about above-class social justice were meant to catch

popular attention and support. But Eden went no further

than banal, commonplace catch-phrases in his home pol-

icy programme.

llis concept of foreign policy is more clearly defined.

Eden is still a supporter of “appeasement”. But now his

speeches also contain calls for Britain to re-arm without

delay.

As before, Eden speaks of Germany and Italy responding

to concessions made them by Britain by proving in deed

that they were themselves ready to cooperate with her.

It is the concept of “guaranteed appeasement”.

A number of other Conservatives also considered that

“appeasement” should have safeguards, that THlitler’s and

Mussolini’s word alone should not be trusted. These were

Back-Bench Members of Parliament. ‘hey began to meet

146

together more or less regularly, starting as early as the

spring of 1938, in order to discuss foreign policy problems.

These gatherings were known as those of “The Group”.

llistorians have been unable to establish an exact date

for the formation of “The Group”. lt had no formal member-

ship, no organisational structure, no officers. Its numbers

were variable, and did not exceed 20 altogether. Besides

kkden, those in “The Group” included Cranborne, Thomas,

Patrick, Amery, Macmillan, Spears, Nicolson and others.

“The Group” took no decisions binding upon its members.

It was in effect a discussion group concerned with foreign

policy. From the utterances of those in “The Group” one can

conclude that they saw the methods of traditional diplomacy

aud the balance of power as more important than the govern-

ment did.

The most formidable and consistent critic of Chamberlain’s

foreign policy at this time was Winston Churchill. One

might think that Eden should have joined his efforts with

those of Churchill, but he did not do this. “The Group” was

chary of Churchill.

kiden’s remarks on the desirability of forming an all-party

government indicate beyond doubt that he wanted to return

to power. Knowing his own reputation, Eden justifiably

thought that if such a government were formed, he would be

asked to join it. In that case the post of Foreign Secretary

was assured him, and if he was very lucky he might even be

asked to form a government as Prime Minister. !\den’s author-

ily in the country was growing, in step with the growing

doubts in the public mind on the tenability of Chamberlain’s

policy.

To ensure himself against any danger from that quarter,

the Prime Minister employed the traditional British method.

He decided to Luy Eden off, and offered him the chance to

come back into the government, but not as Foreign Secre-

tary. Eden gave it thought, and then refused. And he was

quite right. Time was working against Chamberlain. Soon

Nden came back into government on much better terms.

In December 1938 Eden and his wife made a trip to the

United States. This too was a well-calculated step. Things

were obviously moving towards war, a war in which the

Interests of Britain and of the USA would coincide for some

time at least. Roosevelt was becoming more and more

active in the sphere of foreign relations. All this meant

that Anglo-American relations were becoming rapidly more

1u* 147

important. After the clash in January 1938 Roosevelt had

no good-will for Chamberlain, which was one more reason

for Eden to make an appearance in the United States and

demonstrate his sympathies with the Americans.

Marked attention was paid to Eden by the Americans.

Even the most famous film stars were not feted to such an

extent. As soon as the liner Aquitania entered New York

harbour, a coastguard service launch came alongside to

take the I-dens on shore. In the fashionable Waldorf Astoria

Hotel there was a reception held in their honour. Some 4,000

persons came to see and hear Eden. The Mayor of New

York, La Guardia, played host to the visitors from London.

They went to see a play on Broadway in which Eden's name

was mentioned by one of the characters. The newspapers

were full of photographs of Eden, of descriptions of his

suits, hats and ties. The Americans saw in Eden their ideal

of an Englishman incarnate. They were surprised at his

not carrying a black umbrella, though that was something

Chamberlain, and indeed any English gentleman, was never

without, whatever the weather. Carrying no umbrella was

seen as a mark of their guest’s liberalism.

Eden addressed the Annual Congress of American Industry

and made speeches at innumerable dinners and receptions.

He did not speak of anything of moment, but what he

said was calculated to give his hearers the impression that

he had feelings of sympathy towards the United States,

that he was a supporter of democracy who realised the

threat to it represented by the dictatorships. It was all

put across in smooth, well-rounded phrases.

In Washington the Edens were received by IJeanor Roose-

velt, the President’s wife (there was no meeting with the

President), and by Sumner Welles, the Under-Secretary of

State. The typists in the White House followed him from

room to room, entranced by the opportunity to see the

charming English politician in person.

The Edens returned home in time for Christmas, pleased

with their trip and bringing with them over 100 photographs

of themselves clipped from American newspapers. “There

were some, however,” notes Bardens, “who felt this adula-

tion was carried a little too far, and that Eden’s reputa-

tion rested on an unsubstantial basis. He was being praised

more for what he refused to do than for what he did.”

While Eden was travelling abroad, Chamberlain had insti-

tuted a regime of harsh discipline among Conservative Mem-

148

bers of Parliament. He made a speech in the House of Com-

mons which made it clear that he would not stand for the

free-thinking attitudes shown by some people in the debale

on Munich. Conservative agents in the constituencies de-

manded explanations from the “dissidents” and warned them

in no uncertain terms that if they did not come to their

senses they could not count on being candidates for those

constituencies in the next election (which was due in a few

months’ time).

Some, like Winston Churchill for instance, postponed

the moment of truth in their constituencies for as long as

they possibly could. Some tried rebellion. When the Duchess

of Atholl, indignant at the Party pressure put on her (she

had displeased the Party bosses by criticising government

policy on Spain), gave up the Party whip and tried to get

elected as an Independent, she was promptly defeated.

‘The “dissidents” grew thoughtful, and kept quiet.

iden redoubled his caution. The New Statesman wrote:

“Ile is playing ... for the leadership of the Conservative

Party... He leaves the door open for possible combinations in

the future.” And the Spectator, commenting on Nden’s con-

stant refusal to indulge in recriminations towards his former

government colleagues, noted that it was in itself a “source

of strength”. Those in “The Group” followed the example

of their leader, and some of them did their best to convince

the party bosses of their reliability.

This was not too difficull, especially for Eden. David

Carlton, summing up Eden’s record on foreign policy in

the thirties, remarks that the “distinctions between ‘appeas-

ers’ and ‘anti-appeasers’ in the Conservative Party were

less sharp than has been popularly supposed... It has been

argued here lin Carlton’s book—V. T.], for example, that

den initially formed a relatively favourable impression

of Hitler, that he took a less vigorous line on Abyssinia than

has often been supposed: that his policies on the Rhineland

and the Spanish Civil War were substantially his own ...

and that he adopted a less than thoroughgoing attitude in

his opposition to Chamberlain after his resignation.”

On March 15, 1939, Hitler moved his troops into Czecho-

slovakia and occupied her territory. This was done without

agreement with the countries that had taken part in the

Munich Conference. Thus Hitler ipso facto tore up the Munich

Agreement, and the notorious Anglo-German declaration

as well. It meant the complete failure of the policy of “ap-

149

peasement”. It was now clear that Germany could not be

placated by concessions, that she was out to achieve dom-

inance in Europe. “The latest exploit of Herr Hitler,”

wrote the Spectator, “will convince the country ... of the

value of the Munich Agreement. Not only is the policy of

appeasement dead ... but it must be hastily buried.”

At this point the British Government betrayed Czechoslo-

vakia yet again. For at Munich Chamberlain had promised to

guarantee her post-Munich frontiers. Although the British

Government was aware that Hitler intended to seize Czech- |

oslovakia (“For weeks or even months beforehand it was not

difficult to guess what Hitler’s next move might be,” wrote

Cadogan), was well aware even of the time limits when it

would take place, it did nothing to hinder it. In fact a French

proposal to send a note of warning to Ilitler was greeted

with stony rejection in London.

After his meetings with Hitler, Chamberlain had assured

his Ministers: “I got the impression that here was a man who

could be relied upon” and that Hitler was “extremely anxious

to secure the friendship of Great Britain’. Two or three

months later, and we read, in a document issued with Cham-

berlain’s approval, that “Hitler’s mental condition, his

insensate rage against Great Britain” provide evidence that

he might “make a sudden air attack without pretext on

England”. That document is dated January 24, 1939.

What had happened during the four months since Munich? |

“As early as November [1938],” says the above-quoted doc- |

ument, “there were indications which became more definite

that Hitler was planning a further foreign adventure for

the spring of 1939. At first it appeared ... that he was think-

ing of expansion to the East ... An independent Ukraine

under German vassalage was freely spoken of in Germany.”

So that was what they were hoping for in London! More

than once in Cadogan’s Diaries (the published version, that

is!) one finds remarks on the Foreign Office belief in “their

project for acquiring a dominant position in the Ukraine”.

That means that in Downing Street they were impatiently

awaiting a German altack on the USSR (for how else could

Germany lay hands on the Ukraine?), awaiting, that is, the

pay-off for handing over Czechoslovakia. But by the end

of January 1939 the British Government had so much

evidence of the fact that Hitler was disregarding them

that they began to visualise in earnest the possibility that

Germany might strike against the West. But despite that, |

150

the Chamberlain Government did nothing to prevent Hitler’s

seizure of Czechoslovakia on March 15.

Soon after London and Paris had had to “swallow” the

take-over of Czechoslovakia, Hitler seized Memel from

Lithuania, and Mussolini appropriated Albania. The shift

in the balance of power in favour of the aggressor countries

was now proceeding with fantastic speed.

Reactions in Britain to these events varied. Chamberlain

even now refused to change his line. But popular indignation

was increasing, and with it the pressure on Members of

Parliament. It was already clear to many that the policy

of “appeasement” had brought Britain and France to the

briuk of disaster: they must now either accept Cerman dom-

ination in Europe, or start a war against Germany under

conditions much worse than they would have been in, say,

1936, when German aggression could have heen halted

comparatively easily.

At this period the idea of utilising the might of the USSR

to redress the balance of power was becoming more pop-

lar in unofficial political circles. This idea now started to

influence Eden’s thinking also to some degree.

In the second half of March 1939 it had already become

clear that Nazi Germany’s next victim was to be Poland.

British ruling circles, for all their sympathies towards fas-

cism, could not view calmly a further possible shift in the

balance of power to Britain’s disadvantage. To give the

German Government a fright and make it more cooper-

ative Chamberlain—who was now posing as having been

a “sadly deceived apostle of appeasement”—announced on

March 31 that Britain (with France following her example)

guaranteed the independence of Poland. After Mussolini’s

take-over of Albania guarantees were also given to Greece

and Romania, and talks about guarantees were begun wilh

Turkey.

Many thousands of books and articles have been written to

demoustrate that after March 15 the policy of “appeasement”

was dead, that the British Government changed to a new

course. The falsity of this version of events has been shown

repeatedly by Marxist, and not only Marxist, historians.

The policy of “appeasement” continued until September

1939, and after that till May 1940; Chamberlain’s “guarantees”

were a tactical ploy only, with two aims: to soothe public

Opinion, and to exert influence on the governments of Germa-

ny and \|taly to impel them towards making a real agree-

154

ment with Britain at last. The same aims were behind the

Anglo-Franco-Soviet talks which took place in the spring

and summer of 1939.

Did there exist at the time an objective possibility of

concluding an alliance between Britain, France and the

USSR, against German aggression? Yes, beyond doubt there

did. In the first place, the Soviet Union had on more than

one occasion demonstrated its sincere readiness to take

part in a system of collective security which might have

halted the approaching war; in the second, the USSR,

Britain and France were all under the threat from Germany

and so they all had a common interest in averting that threat.

[t might seem that in such a situation there was only one

rational course open to Britain and France—to form a united

front with the USSR against aggression. At that stage it

was still possible to save the situation. But in London and

Paris they still went on with a gambling game in which

the stakes were the fate of countries and peoples.

Under pressure from public opinion, the governments of

the Western powers began to mask their policy by employing

very simple diplomatic devices: official personages in London

and in Paris became frequent guests of the Soviet Embassies

there, and such visits were widely publicised. But this did

nol cause any misapprehensions in Moscow. M. M. Litvinov

wrote to the Soviet Ambassador in London on this score:

“T think you have no illusions concerning Anglo-Soviet.

relations and do not give undue weight to the acceptance

of your lunch invitations by members of the government.

It often happens that a hidden but essential deterioration

in relations is meant to be compensated hy easy public

manifestations of correct behaviour, which is what is hap-

pening in the given case.” On February 19, 1939, the People’s

Commissar for Foreign Affairs noted, in the record of a con-

versation he had had with the British Ambassador: “IT indi-

cated to the Ambassador that as yet I see no signs of a change

from the course made apparent at Munich.” Litvinov summed

up thus: “We have to do solely with gestures and tactical

manoeuvres, not with any real desire on Chamberlain’s

part to cooperate with us.” The Soviet Government, thus,

was well aware of the double game being played by the

men of Munich.

Some historians think that talks between the Soviet Union

and Britain and France regarding an alliance to restrain

further German aggression in Europe began on March 18,

152

1939, and that the initiative in these talks belonged to

the British Government. It would probably be more correct

to consider that talks with that object began one month

later, and that the initiative was from the Soviet Union.

If one looks carefully at the import of the diplomatic

correspondence and talks between representatives of these

three powers in the period March 18-April 17, one cannot

fail to conclude that during that month the governments

of Britain and France were not conducting talks about an

alliance, but were making efforts to provoke the USSR

into taking diplomatic measures lowards Germany which

would have caused a further deterioration in Soviet-German

relations and have urged Hitler into abandoning his plans

for making his first strike in the West, and instead launching

an armed attack upon the Soviet Union.

In the language of the documents themselves the facts

appear thus. In connection with the increasing pressure

being put by Germany upon Romania (Hitler was attempt-

ing to wring important economic and political concessions

out of the Romanians) the British Government on March

18 addressed an enquiry, through the Soviet Ambassador

in London and simultaneously through the People’s Com-

missar for Foreign Affairs in Moscow, to find out whether

Romania could count upon the help of the Soviet Union

in the event of German aggression, and if so in what form

and on what scale. M. M. Litvinov replied that the Soviet

Government “may also feel the need to know, before replying

lo the enquiry made by Seeds [the British Ambassador to

the USSR—V. 7.], what the position of other states, in

particular Britain, may be”. The People’s Commissar “ex-

pressed surprise that Britain and not Romania should interest

itself in our aid, Romania having made no apprcach to us

and possibly even having no wish for our help”. However,

as the Soviet Government did not wish to neglect any

chance whatever of holding talks with the Western powers

on joint resistance to aggression, it decided to make this

enguiry from the British the occasion of an important

proposal of its own on urgent measures to avert aggression.

In the evening of that same day M.M. Litvinov summoned

Seeds and handed him a Soviet proposal “for the immediate

convocation of a conference at which the USSR, Britain,

France, Poland and Romania would be represented”. The

People’s Commissar explained to the Ambassador that

“enquiries from one government to another regarding the

153

position of each will yield nothing, and it is therefore neces-

sary to have a general consultation”. An American historian,

Fleming, has since evaluated the Soviet action thus: “This

was exactly and obviously what was urgently needed.”

But it was not what British politicians wanted. Promptly,

the next day in fact, the British Foreign Secretary informed

the Soviet Ambassador that he had consulled the Prime

Minister concerning the conference proposal, and that they

had come to the conclusion that such an action would be

“premature”. Thus a concrete, business-like Soviet proposal

for combating aggression was rejected by the British side.

Ou March 21 Seeds transmitted to Litvinov a draft, very

vaguely phrased, for a declaration to be made by the USSR.

Britain, France and Poland, that these countries bound

themselves to consult on the steps that should be taken

for united resistance to aggression. On the principle that

“anything is better than nothing”, the Soviet Government

the next day informed the government of Great Britain

thal it accepted the latler’s proposal. But the British side

first delayed its answer, and then announced that the ques-

tion of a declaration must be held to have fallen to the

ground,

At first sight the British position seems inconsistent

and hard to understand, but it had a logic of ils own. One

must consult the British sources of that period in order Lo

find its rationale. Let us look at one of these. David Dilks,

the publisher of Cadogan’s Diaries, quotes the following

document, prepared by Cadogan for the Foreign Office in

February 1939: 1... think it otiose to discuss whether

Fascism or Communism is the more dangerous to us. It is

quite plain that, at the moment [Cadogan’s emphasis—V.7’.]

that former is the more dangerous.” Further on Cadogan

declares: “I abominate ... Communism (as practised in

Russia).” This is an important document, for it sets forth,

not so much Cadogan’s own opinion but the position of the

Foreign Office and the government—their permanent posi-

tion: they remained true to it in 1939, during the years of

the anti-[litler coalition and in the post-war period. It

unites profound hatred of the Soviet Union and the aware-

ness that cooperation with it was essential for their own

survival.

Nor can one leave out of reckoning the fact that popular

demands for united action with the USSR to rebuff aggres-

sion were growing with every day in Britain, and to a

154

slightly lesser extent in France. To soothe the masses,

Chamberlain made gestures in the direction of the Soviet

Government, and when his demarches produced results

hastily went back on them, for he was not seeking an alliance

with the USSR against the aggressor, but to make a deal

with the latter against the USSR. The British Prime Minister

engaged in outright deception of his own people in order

to conceal the government’s true position. On March 24

Cadogan wrote in his diary: “Had to be at No. 10 at 9.45—

P.M. talking to Labour. He explained ... that we weren’t

cold-shouldering Russia.”

As for the French Government, it was displaying no

activity as yet. M.M. Litvinov wrote to the Soviet Ambas-

sador in Paris, Y.Z. Surits: “France, so far as we are con-

cerned, seems to have opted out completely, leaving even

the talks with us to Britain alone.” And Britain was con-

ducting the talks for the look of things, which the Soviet

Government understood perfectly well. “Indeed,” wrote

Litvinov to Surits, “in the talks the British and the French

are having with us, since the business of the joint declaration

there has not been so much as a hint of any concrete pro-

posal or any agreement with us. If one deciphers the real

meaning of these talks, all that emerges is a desire on the

part of Britain and France to get from us, without entering

into any agreement and without undertaking any obligations

themselves, promises that would be binding upon us...

But why should we take upon ourselves such unilateral

commilments?” The disingenuous nature of the Western

powers’ position was clear to Moscow even then, in the

period prior to the secret talks.

On April 15 the British Government addressed an enquiry

lo the Soviet Government as to whether the latter would

make a declaration that, in the event of any act of aggression

against any European neighbour of the Soviet Union, the

assistance of the Soviet Government would be available, if

desired. This proposa] was in essence a provocation. Its

authors were inviting the USSR to declare that in certain

circumstances it would go lo war with Germany, while they

themselves did not promise to give it any support. It was

none other than an attempt to draw the Soviet Union into

war with Germany—a war she was to conduct single-handed.

If the British Government had no real intention of organis-

ing a front of resistance to aggression, the Soviet Government

on the contrary did have such intentions. [t therefore took

499

the opportunity offered by the British proposal in order

to convey to the governments of Britain and France, on

April 17, 1939, proposals of its own providing that all three

powers undertake the obligation to render to one another

immediate aid of all kinds, including military aid, in the

event of aggression in Europe against any one of them. It

was the presentation of these proposals by the Soviet Govern-

ment which initiated the tripartite negotiations on con-

clusion of a defensive military alliance against aggression

in Europe between the USSR, Britain and France.

It was a constructive step on the part of the Soviet Govern-

ment. ‘The American historian, Fleming, describes the

Soviet proposal of April 17 as “starkly realistic”. “Nothing

less,” he writes, “offered any hope of stopping Germany

without war, or of winning it if Hitler persisted.” That

the Soviet Government was sincere and its proposals seriously

meant was accepted as beyond doubt by many diplomats

accredited lo Moscow.

Moscow knew that London and Paris were showing some

activity in the field of foreign relations for tactical reasons

only, taking steps intended to show that their line had

changed, while in reality their intention was still to bring

about a fresh deal with Hitler. What considerations, then,

moved the Soviet Government, when it offered Britain and

France an alliance against aggression? Firstly, it believed

that public opinion in the Western countries would bring

pressure to bear on their governments lo cooperate with the

USSR; secondly, it took cognisance of the inter-imperialist

rivalries which made it difficult for any agreement to be

reached between Britain and France, on the one hand, and

Germany and Italy, on the other; and thirdly and lastly, it

considered it essential to take up any chance, even the

slightest, of trying to create a united front of states and

peoples against the threat of fascism and war. It was an

entirely correct policy, and if the efforts of the Soviet

Government did not meet with success at that stage, it was

purely because support for them, from the forces in the

West which were striving to avert the threat of war, was

insufficiently strong.

And what was the reaction in London to the Soviet pro-

posals? Cadogan set out his opinion for Halifax, the essence

of it being that he doubted Russia’s military aid. “We

have to balance,” adjudged Cadogan, “the advantage of a

paper commitment by Russia to join in a war on one side

156

against the disadvantage of associating ourselves openly

with Russia. The advantage is, to say the least, problem-

atical.” Halifax approved this reasoning.

On April 19 there was a meeting of the Foreign Policy

Committee to discuss what Cadogan described as the “mis-

chievous” Soviet proposals. Cadogan’s views gained “general

approval”, and he sent a telegram to the French, “urging

(hem not to reply to the Soviets before consulting us”.

On April 21 Halifax informed the Polish Ambassador in

London, Raczynski, that the Soviet proposals, while impor-

tant, went further than the British Government wished to go.

On April 25 the Foreign Policy Committee discussed the

answer to be sent to Moscow. The meeting of the FPC didn’t

last long, wrote Cadogan, all agreed to turn the Soviet

proposals down.

On May 8 the British Government proposed to the Soviet

Government, instead of a tripartite agreement on mutual

aid, that the Soviet Government should make a unilateral

declaration that in the event of Britain and France being

drawn into hostilities, the Soviet Union would consider

itself bound to immediately render them assistance. Not

a word of what the Soviet Union could count on from Britain

and France. “As you see,” ran a telegram sent to the Soviet

Ambassador in France by V.M. Molotov, who in May 1939

had succeeded M.M. Litvinov as People’s Commissar for

Foreign Affairs, “the British and the French are demanding

unilateral and free aid from us, without binding themselves

to render equivalent aid to us.”

A week later the Soviet Government informed its partners

in the talks that, having given careful consideration to

their proposals, it had reached the following conclusion:

these proposals “cannot provide a basis for the organisation

of a resistance front by the peaceful states against the

further spread of aggression in Europe”, for “they do not

embody the principle of mutuality in relation to the USSR

and place it in an unequal position, since they do not pro-

vide for any undertakings by Britain and France to guarantee

the USSR in the event of a direct attack upon it by the

aggressors’. Simultaneously the Soviet Government put

forward proposals which if taken up would have created an

effective barrier against aggression.

On May 19 the new Soviet proposals were considered by

the Foreign Policy Committee. “We are coming up,” notes

Cadogan, “against choice between Soviet alliance (or pact

157

of mutual assistance) and breakdown—with all consequences...

P.M. (Prime Minister) hates it. O. Stanley, S. Hoare,

M. MacDonald, Chatfield, I think Inskip, Burgin in favour

of it. To them | think I should add H. [Halifax]. P.M.,

S. Morrison and (?) J. Simon against. All agreed it must be

Cabinet decision. Also agreed that our bull point against

Russian proposals was Polish and Romanian dislike of

association with Russia.” A day later Cadogan wrote:

“P.M. says he will resign rather than sign alliance with the

Soviets.” So the new Soviet proposal was also rejected by

the British Government, and later by the French.

The Soviet Government was aware that its partners in the

talks were engaged in insincerity. V. M. Molotov made this

awareness clear in a conversation he had with the British

and French diplomatic representatives in Moscow on May 27.

The record of this conversation says: “In answer to Seeds

and Payart, Cde. Molotov began by declaring that after

making himself acquainted with the Anglo-French draft,

he had given it a negative evaluation. The Anglo-French

draft not only failed to include any plan for organisation of

effective mutual aid between the USSR, Britain and France

against aggression in Europe, it offered no evidence even of

any serious interest on the part of the British and French

Governments in concluding a corresponding pact with the

USSR. The Anglo-French proposals lead one to suppose that

the governments of Britain and France are interested not

so much in a pact as in talks about one. Possibly Britain

and France need these talks for some purposes. These pur-

poses are not known to the Soviet Government. It is inter-

ested not in talks about a pact, but in organising effective

mutual assistance of the USSR, Britain and France against

aggression in Europe. To take part merely in talks about

a pact, talks the object of which is unknown to the USSR,

is not the intention of the Soviet Government. The British

and French Governments may conduct such talks with more

suitable partners than the USSR.” Probably some felt the

tone of this statement to be rather too sharp. But today,

in the light of documents now published which were pre-

viously secret, it is absolutely clear that such a tone was

entirely justified in speaking to diplomats who were plaving

a double game.

British Government documents tell us of the discussion

in London of the matter of sending a special representative

to Moscow to carry on talks. We know how Chamberlain went

1538

in person, three times, to Hitler in order to reach the Munich

Agreement. Later he went to Rome to see Mussolini. To the

USSR, to hold talks on the creation of an alliance to preserve

peace in Europe, they sent a low-ranking official of the

Foreign Office, William Strang. If the British Government

had been serious about the talks, they would have heen

entrusted to, at least, the Foreign Secretary. After all, on the

Soviet side they were being conducted by the Chairman of the

Council of People’s Commissars. In Moscow they were ready

to receive Halifax, but he refused to go. When the matter

was discussed in Cabinet in July 1939 and the possibility of

sending a Minister was raised, Chamberlain declared that

that would be very difficult as it would cause serious delay

and would be humiliating to the British Government.

At this time Anthony Nden began to speak of the vital

need for “a tripartite alliance between Britain, France and

Russia based on complete reciprocity; that is to say, that

if Russia were attacked, we and France would go to her help.

ani if we or France were attacked, Russia would come to our

aid”. Eden considered that the three powers should also be

prepared to help any other European nation that became

a victim of aggression. Early in May Eden spoke in the

Ilouse of Commons on the need to conclude an agreement

with the USSR as soon as possible.

A few days later he met Halifax for lunch. The conver-

sation turned to the proposed talks. “Why don’t you go to

Moscow, Edward, and lead a delegation?” asked Eden.

“{ should be no good whatsoever,” replied Halifax. “They

are not my kind of people. Absolutely no rapport with them

whatsoever.” Eden pointed out that Chamberlain had gone

to see Hitler three times, and noted that if the British

delegation were headed by someone of stature, the Russians

would take it as evidence that there was no prejudice against

them in London. Then Eden said: “If it were agreeable to

the Government, I would be willing to go myself.” Halifax

made a show of liking the idea, and promised to mention

it to the Prime Minister. Soon Eden learned that Chamber-

lain was not willing to let him go to the USSR.

In spite of everything, agreement was reached in Moscow

on a number of controversial issues, thanks to the firmness

and persistence of the Soviet Government.

One subject of serious divergence of opinion was the

question of a military agreement. In the opinion of the

Soviet Government, this ought to be an integral part of the

159

political treaty. But the governments of Britain and France,

seeking to avoid taking any concrete obligations upon them-

selves, tried lo postpone the matter of a military agreement

to an indefinile date in the future. In a telegram to the

Soviet Ambassadors in London and Paris, V.M. Molotov

referred to the Anglo-French proposal that agreement should

first be reached on the “political” part of the treaty and

that only thereafter should the parties “pass on to the

military agreement”, as trickery, since it “tears the single

treaty up into two treaties” and ran counter to the principal

Soviet proposal on simultaneous conclusion of the treaty as

a whole, including its military agreement, “which is the

most important and the most political part of the treaty”.

“You will understand,” wrote the People’s Commissar, “that

without an absolulely concrete military agreement as an

integral part of the entire treaty, the treaty would be trans-

formed into an empty declaration, something we will not

agree to. Only rogues and tricksters, such as the gentlemen

engaged in the talks on the Anglo-French side are all this

time showing themselves to be, can hypocritically pretend

that our demand for simultaneous conclusion of a political

and military agreement is something new in the negotiations,

and even start a canard in the press to the effect that we

are demanding the military agreement in advance, i.e.

before concluding the political agreement. One can only

wonder what they hope to gain by launching into such

misguided stratagems in the negotiations. It looks as though

nothing will come out of these endless talks. Then they

will have only themselves to blame.”

The justice of this assessment is confirmed by a despatch

sent by Strang to the British Government on July 20.

“Their [i.e. the Soviet representatives —V.7.] distrust and

suspicion of us has not diminished during the negotiations,

nor ... has their respect for us increased. The fact that we

have raised difficulty after difficulty on points which seem

to them unessential has created an impression that we may

not be seriously seeking an agreement.” Indeed, the Western

powers were not seeking an agreement with the USSR. It is

true that the French Government displayed greater readiness

than the British to reach agreement with the Soviet Union.

Chamberlain was seeking not alliance with the USSR, but

a new deal with Hitler. In parallel with the talks in Moscow,

talks with German representatives were going on in London,

in deepest secrecy. As early as March 1939 M. M. Litvinov,

160

bearing in mind the nature of British foreign policy, had

foreseen the possibility of such talks. He considered that

the British Government would use its contacts with the

USSR as a means of “stepping up the process of setting Hitler

against the Kast: ‘Either you go East, or else we shall get

together with them against you.’”

In the first few months after Munich Chamberlain's

Cabinet tried to get talks with the Nazis started, but the

latter preferred to listen only and say nothing themselves.

In the summer of 1939 London was more insistent in raising

the matter of talks, llitler was offered a carefully worked-out

programme for such talks, and tempted with promises of

major concessions.

‘The London Government’s efforts for an agreement with

Nazi Germany reached their peak in July 1939. This time

it was Horace Wilson—Chamberlain’s trusted aide—who

was in charge of the negotiations. He offered the German

representative, Wohltat, a wide-ranging programme for

negotiations. One of the sections envisaged confirmation of

the non-aggression pact which had been in existence between

Britain and Germany since the time of the Munich Agreement.

By way of recompense for this, the British side promised to

renege on the guarantees it had given to Poland and Roma-

nia, i.e. it was prepared to betray those countries to the

Nazis. Germany was promised a radical revision of the

Treaty of Versailles in the part relating to colonies. The

seclion on “Military Questions” provided for the attainment

of agreements on armaments and for “a joint policy” towards

“third countries”, The section on “Economic Questions”

was the most carefully elaborated of all. Germany was offered

a joint policy in the area of supply of raw materials to both

countries, and in the division of the principal markets for

their goods. In the opinion of the British side, the result

of cooperation between the two governments would be free

play for the development of economic forces in Europe and

throughout the world under the leadership of Germany and

Britain. This planned German-British cooperation was to

affect three major market areas in particular: the British

Kmpire (especially India, South Africa, Canada and Austra-

lia); China (in cooperation with Japan); and Russia.

London was thus offering Berlin an agreement on the

economic division of Kurope and of the world. The Nazis were

even being offered a share in the economic exploitation of

the British Empire.

1414-01222 164

The British plan envisaged the creation of a colonial con-

dominium in Africa. Joint opening-up was envisaged of

immense areas in tropical and subtropical Africa. These

might include Togo, Nigeria, Cameroon, the Congo, Kenya,

Tanganyika (German East Africa), Portuguese and Spanish |

West and East Africa and Northern Rhodesia. What was

proposed for these territories included organisation of |

processing of raw materials and of food production; capital

investment and foreign trade arrangements; reform of the

currency system and of communications; administrative

management and military and police control.

It is notable that in considering the exploitation of

China, those in Downing Street were prepared to reach an

agreement with one more aggressive power—Japan.

The British policy-makers saw the Soviet Union too as one

of the markets which was to be jointly “developed” by Britain

and Germany. One can only marvel at the political blind-

ness prevalent in London, where they had not the slightest

conception of what the Soviet Union had become by 1939,

but saw it as entirely possible to force upon the USSR the

status of a semi-colony and raw materials appendage to the

capitalist powers.

The British Government offered Nazi Germany credits and

the position of co-partners in the struggle against their

imperialist rivals.

This British plan for an all-embracing agreement with

Hitler embodied arch-reactionary designs aimed at many

countries and peoples. One cannot ignore that this was to he

an agreement not just with Germany, but with Nazi Germa-

ny. This meant that in offering the Nazis joint exploitation

of a number of countries, the British Government was prom-

ising to facilitate the inculcation of fascist influence there.

The British plan was thus bound to bring in its train the

extension and firmer establishment of fascism in Europe and

in other continents; and this was against the interests of the

British people as well. If this plan had been realised, grave

harm would have been done to the cause of progress and

democracy, and the positions of reaction would have been

significantly strengthened; the exploitation of working

people in the developed countries, and the oppression of the

colonial peoples, would have been sharply increased.

The fate of one of the most important documents of this

period—the memorandum handed to the Germans by Horace

Wilson during his secret talks with the Nazi emissary—is

162

interesting. It was on paper headed with the address of the

Prime Minister. After this memorandum was_ published

following the Second World War, A.J.P. Taylor devoted

a special article in The New Statesman to it. According to

Taylor, Horace Wilson “recorded his version ... for the

benefit of the Foreign Office; and it duly appeared in the

British Documents”. From this record it followed that il

was “a harmless conversation indeed: merely the usual theme

of readiness to be friendly to Germany as soon as Hitler

reverted to peaceful methods”.

But the German documents, when published, showed

that this was a matter of highly important proposals, ap-

proved by Chamberlain and transmitted by Wilson to the

Nazis. It was a full programme of cooperation, sharing of

foreign markets, industrial and financial partnership. Taylor

posed the question: “What ... has happened to the memoran-

dum, since it has escaped the editors of the British Docu-

ments? Was it suppressed by Sir Horace Wilson? Or by

Neville Chamberlain? Obviously many people would be

glad for it to disappear.”

The agreement proposed by Britain was never reached,

owing to extreme exacerbation of the contradictions between

the two countries. London was offering German Nazism

enormous concessions, but in Berlin they dreamt of still

greater things—of gaining sole dominance over the whole

world—and so they declined to accept the British proposals.

The British plan for an agreement with Nazi Germany

reveals the full perfidy of British diplomacy. Naturally its

double game prevented the success of the Moscow talks, and

it again was the reason for the lack of results from negotia-

tions which began in August 1939 between the Military

Missions of the USSR, Britain and France.

In July the Western powers had discussed the matter of

breaking off the talks with the USSR. To do so seemed desir-

able to them, firstly, because the Soviet Government was

utilising the talks to expose the hypocrisy of its opposite

numbers, which created difficulties at home for the latter,

and secondly, it would be one more gesture to prove their

readiness to reach agreement with Germany. On July 12

Seeds sent a telegram to Halifax saying that in order to get

the talks broken off it would be better to use the question

of “indirect aggression”, rather than that of the military

agreement.

But an open break was none the less felt to be dangerous.

44¥ 163

The Soviet proposal that talks should be started between

the military missions from the three countries was accept-

ed—accepted so that the talks might thus be dragged on

endlessly. Under the circumstances it was equivalent to

breaking them off.

The British and French military missions arrived in

Moscow after deliberate delays and without powers to

decide on or sign anything (the British military represenla-

tives had in fact no powers at all). They had been given

just two clear instructions: to drag on the talks for as long

as possible, and to try, in the course of them, to acquire

exhaustive data on the state of the Soviet armed forces.

The German Ambassador in London telegraphed to his

Foreign Ministry on August 1: “The Military, Air and Naval

Atlachés are unanimous in noting the strikingly sceptical

attitude shown by the British military regarding the forth-

coming talks with representatives of the Soviet armed forces.

One cannot avoid forming the impression that on the British

side the talks are being conducted primarily in order to

gain, eventually, a picture of the real military strength of

the Soviet armed forces.”

On August 3 the Soviet Ambassador in France reported

to the People’s Commissariat for Foreign Affairs, on the

basis of conversations with responsible officials in Paris,

that the French mission “was leaving for Moscow without

any plan having been worked out. This is disquieting, and

lessens confidence in the serious nature of the talks... The

reasons for all this lie in the fact that here and in London

they are far from having given up hope of reaching agree-

ment with Berlin, and look on agreement with the USSR

not as a means of ‘breaking Germany’, but merely as a

means of creating better positions for themselves in future

talks with Germany.”

Before long the same Ambassador was passing on the

information that the head of the French mission, General

Doumenc, was none too pleased with the parting injunctions

he had been given at the Quai d’Orsay: “Nothing clear or

definite,” he said; “they went no further than generalised

clichés and platitudes”; and “one gets the impression that

the guidance of the military talks, as of the political ones,

will be in the hands of the British”. And indeed that was

how it worked out.

The talks between the military missions opened with an

exchange of information on the state of the armed forces of

164

the three powers and on their strategic plans so far as Europe

was concerned. The Soviet delegation provided an impressive

outline of the contribution that could be made by the Red

Army in the struggle against aggression in Europe. As

Moumenc reported to Paris on August 17, “the declarations

made by the Soviet delegation were specific and included

inany numerical facts... In a word, we recognise a clearly

expressed intention [on the part of the Soviet Union—V.T.|

not to stand aside, but on the contrary to take serious ac-

tion.” The French general was right. The USSR did intend

seriously to take action in alliance with Britain and France.

In the course of the negotiations it was expounded that

the Soviet Union would be bound to render assistance with

ils armed forces to Britain, France and their allies, Poland

and Romania, in the event of Germany attacking these

countries. But everyone knew that the USSR had no common

frontier with Germany and that the Red Army could only

operate over the territories of Poland and Romania. This

was an obvious fact, and without taking account of it no

talks were possible about mutual assistance between the

three powers. Without Poland’s consent to let the Red Army

pass through her territory any agreement, military or politi-

cal, on joint action against the aggressor would be left hang-

ing in mid-air. Equally, how could the Soviet Union help

Romania in the case of a German attack upon her, if the

Red Army was unable to use the Romanian territory in

order to bring its units into contact with the enemy?

When the head of the Soviet military delegation, K.Y. Vo-

roshilov, pul the question as to whether Britain and France

had the appropriate consent from Poland and Romania,

the British and French delegations replied in the negative.

The Soviet side then proposed that the governments of

Britain and France should assure themselves of such consent,

if they wished to conclude a military convention with the

USSR.

The record of the talks for August 21 gives K.Y. Voro-

shilov’s statement as follows: “The Soviet military mission

cannot picture to itself how the Governments and General

Staffs of Britain and France, in sending their missions to

the USSR for discussions to arrange a military convention,

could not have given them precise and positive instructions

on such an elementary matter as the passage and action of

Soviet armed forces against the troops of the aggressor, on

the territory of Poland and Romania, with which Britain

165

and France have corresponding mililary and political

agreements. If, however, this axiomatic question is turned

hy the British and French into a great problem, demanding

long study, this can only show that there is every reason

to doubt their desire to come to serious and effective military

cooperation with the USSR.”

This was a perfectly justified statement of the question,

indeed the only one possible. Incidentally, the British and

French diplomatic representatives in Moscow also saw il

as such. Seeds, the British Ambassador, sent a telegram to

llalifax saying that the Russians had raised the fundamental

problem on which military talks would succeed or fail. He

stressed that as the British had taken engagements with

regard to Poland and Romania, the Soviet delegation was

justified in putting on Britain and France the onus of ap-

proaching those countries. The French Ambassador, Payart,

wrote thal one could hardly oppose anything to the Sovict

posilion, which brought one to the heart of the mat-

ter.

But the governments of the Western powers, the British

in particular, did not take the measure needed for a sensible

solution of the questions arising during the military talks.

Tn London they did not in fact want to solve those questions,

because they did not want the Moscow talks to produce any

positive results. When the head of the British military

mission, Admiral Drax, transmilted to his government the

enquiry made by the Soviel delegation, Halifax said at a

Cabinet meeting that he did not think it right to send any

answer to these questions.

Thus did the governments of Britain and France wreck the

1939 talks with the USSR on the conclusion of an alliance

to resist further aggression in Europe. It was clear to the

Soviet Government that the statesmen of London and Paris

acted thus with one object in view—that of continuing

their Munich policy of agreement with fascism, and urging

llitler on to attack the USSR.

Under these circumstances the Soviel Government, not

wishing to play into the hands of those who would provoke

a new war, and striving to safeguard the interests of its

own peoples, took the only slep possible under the existing

circumstances, and signed a non-aggression pact’ with

Germany. By this act the military onslaught of fascism

upon the USSR was delayed for almost two years, which

the Party and the government utilised for the preparation

166

of the country, the people and their armed forces for the

impending war.

The foreign policy of imperialist countries and the false

representalion of that policy are intimately connected.

The latter has two stages: the first stage is false representation

of the policy while it is being applied, and the second is

falsification of the history of the given policy, made sub-

sequently over a more or less lengthy period of time. And

the assiduity of the falsifiers’ efforts depends on the greater

or lesser significance of the given acts of foreign policy by

this or that government in the history of countries and

peoples and in international relations.

The ruling circles of Britain and France have consciously

distorted the picture presented to the peoples of their own

actions at the time of the Munich deal, over the months fol-

lowing Munich, and lastly, over the months preceding the

slart of the Second World War. Using all the means of

propaganda and of politics al their disposal, the men of

Munich have perpetrated a deception as to their policy

upon the British and French peoples, and upon world public

opinion, which is gross in ils scale and cynicism. Although

the “elasticity” of the bourgeois politicians’ conscience is

well known, it would, however, be wrong to think that this

malicious misrepresentation is to be explained by dishonest

or dishonourable conduct on the part of particular figures

on the political scene—Chamberlain, say, or Halifax.

Imperialist foreign policy is the product, however hard

bourgeois historiography and propaganda may try to prove

the contrary, of the actions not of particular individuals

who work out and carry through the policy, but of the

objective interests of the classes in power in the countries

concerned; in the present case, of the monopoly bourgeoisie

of Britain and France. This policy cannot but radically

clash with the objective interests of the working people of

those countries, i.e. the overwhelming majority of the

populations of Britain and France.

So in order to get the peoples to accept some acts or

others of imperialist foreign policy, or at least not resist

them actively, the imperialists try to present their foreign

policy in a false light, or to put it more simply, to deceive

the peoples. The facts of international relations on the eve

of the Second World War show that such deception was

especially intensive at that time; the ruling cliques quite

calculatingly and cynically misled not only their peoples

167

but their Parliaments and even their own colleagues in

government. This was necessary because the smaller the

nuinber of persons knowing the ruling group’s real intention,

the greater the hopes that the deception would not be pre-

maturely exposed. Caution had also to be observed with

political figures belonging to the ruling parties, even if they

were in disagreement with the policy being followed and in

open opposition to it.

The political and military talks in Moscow in the summer

of 1939 contained in themselves an element of falsification,

inasmuch as the parties negotiating with the USSR were

carrying on the negotiations as a blind to cover up their

still-continuing policy of making a deal with the aggressor.

In the period prior to the talks, when public opinion in

Britain was becoming ever more insistent in its demands for

normalisation of relations with the USSR and joint struggle

with it against the threat of war, the London government

was busy building up, as we have noted, a facade of seeming-

ly improving Anglo-Sovict relations.

When the talks started, the British and the French press

kept silence on the Soviet proposals. The Soviet Ambassador

telegraphed from London: “There is a strange game in prog-

ress over our proposals. To begin with, Chamberlain tried

to keep silent about them.” Then came the tactic of one-

sided, distorted presentation of Moscow’s proposals to the

public.

The moral and psychological build-up to the wrecking of

the Moscow talks and to the organisation of a new Munich was

distinguished by attempls to make public opinion favour-

ably inclined towards the aggressive forces, while the deal

with the aggressor was to be concluded secretly from the

peoples.

False representation of policy leads inevitably to false

historical representation of that policy. Bourgeois histori-

ography is continuing the work of the bourgeois politicians,

depicting the events of the past in a light favourable to the

ruling classes. As a rule, it employs many arguments al-

ready advanced in politics and propaganda, providing con-

vincing proof of the very direct link that exists between

politics, propaganda and _ historiography.

Bourgeois historians assert (though with varying degrees

of definiteness) that the fascists were able to unleash the

Second World War by attacking Poland on September 1,

1939, because the Soviet Union had concluded a non-ageres-

168

sion pact with Germany. Anthony Eden also did not refrain

from such assertions. In the part of his Memoirs dealing with

the war he says of the German-Soviet pact: “I had to say it

meant war.”

We have shown above the perseverance with which the

Soviet Union strove to conclude an agreement with Britain

and France on joint resistance to the threat of a new world

war. Such an agreement could have averted war, but it

was not concluded because the governments of Britain and

France did not want it. The more sober-minded among

bourgeois historians also come to the conclusion that the

USSR did sincerely want an alliance with Britain and

France and that if this had been achieved, a decisive barrier

against war would have been created in Europe. A.J.P. Tay-

lor says: “Soviet Russia sought security in Europe, not

conquests... The explanation lies on the surface: the Soviet

statesmen ... distrusted Hitler. Alliance with the Western

Powers seemed the safer course... We may safely guess that

the Soviet Government turned to Germany only when this

alliance proved impossible.”

Decades have passed since the start of the Second World

War, and in our own day we find an English newspaper,

The Guardian, writing: “The Cabinet papers for 1939, pub-

lished this morning, show that the Second World War would

not have started in that year if ... the Chamberlain Govern-

ment had accepted ... Russian advice that an alliance

between Britain, France, and the Soviet Union would pre-

vent war, because Hitler could not then risk a conflict against

major powers on two fronts.” So why, then, was such an

alliance not concluded? The newspaper gives this answer:

“Chamberlain wanted Russian help if Hitler attacked

Poland. But Chamberlain did not want to commit Britain

to go to Russia’s aid if Hitler attacked Russia. The Russians

insisted on a straightforward pact of mutual assistance

linked with military talks. There were variations, but this

was the main disagreement.” There you have an opinion

from a source which is far from being predisposed in the

Soviet Union’s favour.

Through the spring and summer of 1939 a further shift

was taking place in Eden’s view of his country’s situation

internationally. The tearing-up of the Munich Agreements

by Germany in March 1939 convinced him that the policy

of “appeasement” had placed Britain and France in an

extremely dangerous position. Eden therefore began to put

469

forward the view that an end must be put to fascism’s

attempts to extend its conquests in Europe while intimi-

dating Britain by threats of war. The German Government

should be told, clearly and firmly, that if it continued to

push forward towards domination in Kurope, Britain and

France would resist by force of arms.

Marly in the summer Eden made a public speech in

France in which he said that the British and French peoples

hated war, but if war should come, they disposed of resources

sufficient to gain victory. A little later, he wrote to one of

his correspondents: “If we can really make Germany believe

that we will fight, then we may at long last be able to do

something to prevent an outbreak of war.”

Eden’s new orientation presented the question of allies

with new force. Gradually, and with great reluctance, a

number of British politicians, including Churchill and

Iden, came to the conclusion that the sole ally in Europe

for Britain, realistically speaking, was the Soviet Union.

Now they had realised that there could be no alternative.

Hence Eden’s utterances, which indeed were less forceful

than those of Churchill, in favour of concluding a mutual

assistance pacl with the USSR.

It was difficult to achieve the aim referred to by Eden—

to make Germany believe that Britain and France seriously

meant to fight for their position in Europe.

Time and again Hitler and Mussolini had had meetings

with British and French leaders, and had brought away

from these the firm impression that these people would not

go to war against fascism. Hitler told his generals that

Daladier and Chamberlain, whom he had seen in Munich,

were too cowardly to attack.

While he recognised in principle that things might end

in an armed clash between the two blocs, Eden did not

expect that war with Germany was less than a month away.

Parliament was prorogued for the summer, and Kden decided

lo spend some time with his old regiment. He was still young

enough to be called up for active service in time of war.

Besides, submitting himself to some military training

would be good for his image in the constituency and in the

public eye in general. He was gazetted as second-in-command

of a battalion in what was then the one and only British

armoured division. But even in this “military” setting he

was full of civilian concerns: at the year’s end there might

be a General Election, and in letters to those in his Group

170

he asked them to give thought to how they might succeed

in getting elected.

At the end of August it became clear that it was only a

matter of days before Germany attacked Poland. Britain

had not only given her “guarantees” to Poland, but had

conlirmed them by a formal treaty. Should those guarantees

be fulfilled? Eden considered that Britain had to keep its

word, and that if Germany attacked Poland war should

be declared on Germany.

Certainly, failure to meet the treaty obligations to Poland

would have meant that Britain and France had capitulated

completely to Hitler, without a shadow of resistance. No

country after that would have trusted Britain’s word, and

Brilain’s influence in Europe would be at an end. This was

understood not only by Eden, Churchill and many Members

of Parliament, but by the majority of British people.

On the morning of September 1, 1939, Germany moved

its troops into Poland. The Second World War had begun.

At this moment Chamberlain had two things to worry about:

how to remain in power now that the terrible catastrophic

consequences of his policy were plain to be seen, and how

to react to the German attack upon Britain’s ally.

The first problem was one to which he had already ad-

dressed himself in good time. He had two opponents whose

authority and popularity were great enough to enable them

lo head a Parliamentary move to bring down the govern-

ment: Churchill and Eden. Chamberlain considered Chur-

chill to be potentially more dangerous than Eden. Events

had shown that the position taken up by Churchill over

the last few years had been correct, and this raised his

authority and popularity in the country at large; further-

more, Churchill had had vast experience of political struggle,

and owned a strong will. Eden’s popularity was consider-

able, but he had not the impressive power of Churchill.

The previous 18 months had convinced Chamberlain that

Kden would not enter into direct conflict with him.

Chamberlain decided to ensure himself against a possible

atlack by Churchill first of all, and used the traditional

method. On September 1, at midday, he summoned Chur-

chill to Downing Street and invited him to join the War

Cabinet, which was to be formed as war had begun. The

conversation was conducted in terms indicating that the

Maller of the declaration of war was already decided. Chur-

chill agreed, and began to talk of who else should be asked

171

to join the government. Eden’s name was mentioned.

Nothing was said as to what post would be his.

The majority of British people thought that Britain

should at once declare war on Germany, but Chamberlain

was unable to bring himself to do it. German planes were

bombing Polish towns, Nazi tanks were thrusting deep into

Polish territory, but the Prime Minister still hoped that

he could somehow wriggle out of the promise made to

Poland if some sort of agreement could be patched up with

Hitler. Mussolini had offered to act as intermediary—there

was a ray of hope. That was the reason why on September 1,

at 9.30 a.m. the British Government sent Hitler, through

the British Ambassador in Berlin, not an ultimatum, as it

should have done (and as many later thought it had done),

but a warning, calling on Germany to withdraw her troops

from Poland; no date for the withdrawal was mentioned.

On September 2 Cadogan noted: “No answer from Germans.

We are simply waiting.” But the Members of the House of

Commons, in this case truly representing the feelings of the

people, did not propose to put up with the delay in declaring

war. Many of them realised that there was a whill of a new

Munich in the air, and that this would mean ulter disaster

and dire disgrace for Britain. So when Chamberlain in the

afternoon tried to justify the delay by referring to the

hesitations of the French Government, this, according to

Cadogan, “infuriated” the House. Harold Nicolson writes

that after Chamberlain had spoken “the Hlouse gasped for

one moment in astonishment. Was there to be another

Munich after all?” Churchill was furious bul concealed it—

Chamberlain had bound him, having got his promise to

join the War Cabinet, and he had to keep silence at this

historic moment. And if war was not declared, there would

be no War Cabinet, and Churchill would find himself still

out in the cold. Eden was awaiting the cal! to come and join |

the government, and he too kept silence.

Many members of the government, as distinct from the

Prime Minister, understood that the situation both in

Parliament and in the country was dangerously explosive

for all the “men of Munich”, avowed or unavowed. The only

thing that could defuse the situation was a declaration of

war on Germany. In the evening of September 2 an un-

precedented step was taken by five members of the govern-

ment. They met in one of the rooms of the House of Com-

mons and announced that they had gone on strike, saying

172

they did not propose to leave the room until war was de-

clared. At 10 p.m. they were summoned to No.0 Downing

street. At the long table in the room used for Cabinet

meelings sat the members of the government. Chamberlain

again began to explain the reason for the delay in declaring

war on Germany by referring to the French Government’s

hesitation, but he made no proposals of his own. His words

were met with stony silence, a silence which was most elo-

quent in conveying the Ministers’ disapproval. He waited for

some comments, but none came. Then Chamberlain sighed

and said: “Right, gentlemen, this means war.”

At the same time, [forace Wilson was in his office meeting

I'ritz Hesse, a German agent. Llesse had done business with

Wilson before, at the time of the secret talks with Wohltat.

Now he said he had come with a proposal from Berlin for

another bilateral meeting between Britain and Germany;

llitler was eager to receive a dislinguished British states-

man and talk the whole thing over. The Nazis were attempt-

ing to restrain the British Government from a declaration

of war. At the time too Wilson was ready to play in their

hands. He assured the Nazi agent that an agreement could

be reached, provided that Hitler gave orders for the with-

drawal of his troops from Poland: “Then, we might be

prepared to let bygones be bygones.” There was a pause;

he obviously thought that this was too much of a concession,

and added: “Provided Herr Hitler apologizes too, of course.”

But Wilson had failed to take changing circumstances into

account. The old forms of “appeasement” had had their day,

and the policy of Munich was now entering its last phase.

At midnight there was another Cabinet meeting. It was

agreed that at 9 a.m. on September 3 an ultimatum should

be handed to the German Government, demanding the

withdrawal of German troops from Poland. If no answer

signifying compliance with this demand had been received

by 11 a.m., Britain would consider itself at war with Ger-

many. The ultimatum was delivered. There was no answer.

Britain was at war. At 11.15 a.m. Chamberlain spoke on the

radio, announcing the country was at war.

In the afternoon of the same day Eden was at last sum-

moned to Downing Street. Chamberlain invited him to join

the government as Secretary of State for Dominions, but

without a seat in the War Cabinet. Eden agreed.

So on September 3, 1939, Britain entered the Second

World War, and Eden again entered the government.

Chapter IV

THE WAR YEARS

The inclusion of Eden and Churchill in the government did

not change the balance of forces within it. The tone was set,

as before, by Chamberlain, supported by the consistent

Munichites—Halifax, Hoare and Simon. The new members

of the government had been transformed into defenders of

Chamberlain. Churchill, brought into the Cabinet and

becoming First Lord of the Admirally, stood up with energy

for “his” Premier and “his” government. Eden, always much

less determined and active than Churchill, concentrated

on his duties as Secretary of State for Dominions. “The

Group”, formerly his, was now headed by Leopold Amery.

Eden, naturally, could not now take part in its meetings.

The first serious problem Eden faced in his new Ministry

was the matter of the Dominions entering the war on the

side of the mother country. Although the operation of cen-

trifugal forces within the British Empire was already far

advanced by this time, the community of economic, political

and military interests between Britain and the Dominions

was so slrong that Australia and New Zealand entered the

war on Britain's side almost automatically. The Australian

Prime Minister Menzies, in declaring war, proclaimed:

“There is unity in the Empire ranks—one King, one flag,

one cause.” They were followed, after slight hesitation but

fairly quickly, by Canada and South Africa, though the

latter only came into the war after a new government took

office under Smuts—a long-standing partisan of close

relations with Britain. Within a week the question of the

Dominions entering the war was settled satisfactorily.

Eden played his part in the formulation of these decisions,

keeping in close touch with the Dominions’ High Com- |

missioners in London, who carried out, in essence, diplomat-

ic functions.

In October there was an Imperial Conference in London,

174

at which representatives of Britain and the Dominions, of

ministerial rank, discussed the coordination of the war effort.

I:den played an active part in the conference, and after its

conclusion he went with the Dominion representatives to

France, where they visited French army dispositions and

those of the British expeditionary corps which had just

been sent over, and which occupied its own section of the

front on the Franco-Belgian frontier.

In December the first Canadian army units arrived in

Britain, and in February 1940 Australian and New Zealand

units arrived in Egypt. On both occasions Eden organised

ceremonial welcomes for the troops, with the object of

demonstrating to the world the unity of the Empire. His

other public pronouncements pursued the same aim. They

had now acquired a quite new theme—imperialism.

Naturally, in Eden’s concept British imperialism was

God’s gift to the unhappy peoples of the earth. “The British

l;mpire,” said Eden, “has shown itself, by its example of

toleration and wise government, to be a civilizing and

humanizing influence over the whole world. It has been an

instrument for raising the standard of life among backward

races. It has been a great spiritual force, creating better

feeling and understanding between nations.” It is hardly

likely that Eden consciously had his tongue in his cheek

when describing in such glowing terms a system responsible

for the extreme oppression and exploitation of about half

a billion colonial slaves for the benefit of the British ruling

classes. He was a convinced imperialist by birth, by up-

bringing and education, by class affiliation.

At the end of September 1939 the Dominion representatives

raised the question as to the need for the government to

formulate its war aims. The people were to be told why they

had to fight. Eden was happy to take this matter up, since

it came within the foreign policy realm. At this stage they

had clearly formulated in London only one war aim: Britain

was fighting to bring down Hitler. Chamberlain asked:

“What stands in the way of ... peace?” And answered his

own question: “It is the German Government, and the

German Government alone.”

Kden tells us that in the course of negotiations between

members of the government and the Dominions’ High

Commissioners, the following decision was worked out:

“The first essential ... was to convince the world that we

were fighting solely to free Europe from Hitler and the Nazi

175

regime and thal we were not prolonging the war in our own

material interests.” Why was it necessary to persuade the

nations that Britain was fighting not for its imperialist

interests, but for lofty ideals? So that the people of Britain

and the peoples of the British Empire would support the

war against Germany.

During the last months of 1939 and in early 1940 the

British Cabinet avoided formulating distinct war aims, con-

fining themselves to the general statement given above.

Eden explains why. “In October,” he writes, “some senior

members of the Government, believing that Hitler’s mind

might still be open to negotiation, considered a settlement

with Germany more likely if the terms were not precisely

defined. This was a lingering relic of past appeasement poli-

cies.” This statement is further confirmation of the fact

that the re-shuffled Chamberlain Government still clung,

even after September 1, 1939, to the same policy that had

already—one might think—totally failed and discredited

itself,

IL is interesting that Eden, remote as he was from a correct

understanding of the class basis of Nazism, nevertheless

made a true estimate of its purely German specilicity, which

was that Nazism sprang from the soil of German imperi-

alism. “Hitler himself,” he said in December 1939, “is not

a phenomenon; he is a symptom; he is the Prussian spirit of

military domination come up again.” Eden did not, of

course, approach Nazism as being a political trend express-

ing the interests of the most reactionary and aggressive

forces within the imperialist bourgeoisie. But what Eden

and his colleagues remembered very well was Nazism’s

militant anti-communism and anti-Sovietism; they remem-

bered it and tried to utilise it in the interests of the ruling

circles of Britain.

Kden understood that the Versailles experience was some-

thing which must, for Britain, be considered a failure.

Meditating on new forms for the “organisation” of Kurope

which would ensure Britain’s leading role in Continental

affairs, he had by the end of 1939 already reached the idea

of the essentiality of what we would now call the economic

and political integration of Europe. “We cannot be content,”

he wrote to Halifax at this time, “with merely attempting

to restore the world situation to what it was before war broke

out, we must do better next time.” The “better” was envis- |

aged by Eden as “some form of European federation. This |

176

would comprise a European defence scheme, a European

customs union and common currency”. After the cessation

of hostilities Britain set about the practical realisation of

these ideas.

British diplomats are always guided by the principle of

not having all one’s eggs in one basket. So although the

Soviet Union had taken up a position of neutrality in the

war that had now commenced, British political circles

considered it essential to maintain continuous contact with

the Soviet Embassy in London, despite their official policy

of hostility to the USSR. The worse Britain’s situation in

the war became, the greater became its government’s desire

to find support in the assistance of the Soviet Union.

In the course of a fortnight Germany smashed bourgeois-

landlord Poland. British ruling circles were taken aback by

the speed of Hitler’s victory; they had always had an exag-

gerated idea of Poland’s military capabilities. World opinion

was even more taken aback, seeing Britain fail to render

any assistance whatever to the Poles in their unequal strug-

gle, although under the terms of the guarantees given by

Chamberlain and the treaty signed on August 25, 1939,

Britain was bound to mobilise all its resources, including

its armed forces. The whole world was able to see how much

Chamberlain’s word and signature were worth. It was now

clear that it was dangerous to trust this government, for at

any moment, under any pretext or even without one, it

might refuse to honour its obligations under treaty, if it saw

it as against its interest to discharge them.

This historical lesson should be borne in mind when

reading the lamentations uttered by British politicians and

historians over the distrust displayed by Moscow towards

their British ally in the years 1941-1945. Leaving aside the

failure to honour the promise to open a Second Front, leav-

ing aside Churchill’s readiness in 1945 to reverse the guns and

join the Germans against the USSR, his ally—even without

that the British failure to fulfil treaty obligations towards

Poland would in itself have been enough to make any

partner of Britain judge its government not by its words

but by its deeds.

The American historian, Fleming, writes: “It is difficult

to avoid the conclusion that Poland was sacrificed as deliber-

ately as Czechoslovakia was. Poland meant ... to the Munich

men ... another diversion of German conquest-mania toward

the East which would ... lead to a German-Soviet clash.”

12—01222 177

The policy of Munich was still being pursued under other

conditions—those of armed conflict.

‘Those conditions of conflict were themselves phoney.

Britain and France were at war with Germany, yet they

mounted no attack upon Germany in the West to support

Poland (although they had every opportunily to do so).

They did not move even after Poland's defeat, confining

themselves to dropping leaflets from the air and blockading

Germany’s trade. The Americans called it “the phoney war”

or “the sit-down war”.

The “phoneyness” on the military front was matched by

that in home policy. Although the government had assumed

emergency powers under which they could introduce any

measures needed to put the life of the country on a war

footing, those measures were not taken.

The Labour and Liberal Parties did not go so far as to

enter a coalition government alongside the Conservatives

(the latter were too heavily compromised), but they did

conclude an “electoral truce’, and promised to support the

war effort. Which meant that the opposition parties were

not only not trying to remove a government composed of

discredited Munich men, they were giving it moral and

political support.

The apparent absurdity of the “phoney war” masked some

crafly plans. In London there was an opinion current that,

having intimidated Germany by declaring war, and having

let her annex Poland, it would be possible to get the fascists

to reach an agreement with Britain at last. And the might

of the Nazi military machine would then be turned, for sure,

against the Soviet Union. One may think it improbable that

such plans could be entertained in late 1939, but they did

exist, and they dictated the main line of British strategy

and British foreign policy during the first seven months of

the Second World War.

A catalyst intended to hasten the development of events

along these lines was found in the Finnish-Soviet war, which

began in the autumn of 1939. To begin with, the British

Cabinet did all it could to hinder a peaceful solution to the

conflict being reached through negotiations. And when

military action had commenced, Britain and France tried

to make the war as prolonged as possible by furnishing

Finland with up-to-date arms. David Dilks, the historian

who edited Alexander Cadogan’s Diaries, formulates his

conclusion, after studying the British diplomatic documents,

178

as follows: “British policy was to damage Russian interests

without fighting her; by supporting the Finns to prolong

the war.”

In the final phase of the war Britain and France were

ready to move troops to Finland, to fight alongside the

Finns against the USSR. And what about the war against

Germany? The ex-President of Czechoslovakia, Eduard

Benes, who was close to British and French ruling circles,

had written that in the winter of 1939-1940 the latter were

ready to involve their countries in a war against the USSR,

after first reaching an agreement with Germany.

These calculations were confounded by peace being con-

cluded on March 12, 1940 between the USSR and Finland.

On March 16 Cadogan noted: at the Cabinet meeting “every-

one very gloomy—particularly, of course, Winston. I sup-

pose we have suffered a reverse over Finland.” He is not

giving the wrong name by accident—Churchill was indeed

fiercely anxious to “switch” the war to become a war against

the USSR, not against Germany. As for Eden, neither the

documents of the period, nor his own Memoirs written later,

offer the slightest hint that he, as a member of the govern-

ment, disagreed with this treacherous policy.

The Finnish scenario has fallen to the ground, and London

and Paris turn hastily to constructing plans for a strike

against the Transcaucasus, using mainly air and sea forces.

[It would have meant war with the USSR. On March 28

these plans were discussed in the Supreme War Council—

the joint Anglo-French body for war controlling. Not, of

course, without the presence of the ubiquitous Cadogan, who

noted in his diary: “Supreme War Council at 10... ‘Study’

Baku.”

While these hazardous plans were being concocted, Ger-

many was making her preparations, and early in April

1940 executed her attack upon Denmark and Norway. Denmark

capitulated without resistance, but the Norwegian people

rose to fight fascism. Britain and France attempted to

prevent Norway being taken over, naval and air forces

were brought into play, and troops landed at a number of

points in Norway. The Allied forces suffered a rapid and

crushing defeat in this operation. Events were demonstrating

the dangerous adventurism of London’s policy.

The point was not so much the failure of a particular line

in foreign policy as the fact that that failure had entailed

a marked worsening of Britain’s strategic position. Germany

12* 179

had outflanked her, and had occupied important positions

from which to strike against the British Isles and break,

or make extremely difficult, Britain's lines of communication

with America across the Atlantic. So when a two-day

Parliamentary debate on the Norwegian operation opened

on May 7, the Conservative benches in the House of Com-

mons showed strong dissatisfaction with the Cabinet’s

actions. There were energetic calls for its resignation.

Leopold Amery quoted Cromwell’s words to the Long

Parliament: “You have sat too long here... Depart, I say,

and let us have done with you. In the name of God, go!”

Amery was a leading Conservative Back-Bencher, and his

speaking in this way was very significant. The Labour group

raised the question of confidence in the government. Chur-

chill, displaying his loyalty to the Conservative Party,

produced a lively defence of Chamberlain. Eden kept

silence.

The voting showed that the majority in favour of the

government, which had formerly stood at 250, had now

shrunk to 81. Thirty-three Conservative members voted

against the government, and 165 abstained, refusing to

support Chamberlain. Immediately after the vote was an-

nounced the Labour leaders informed their Conservative

opposite numbers that the Labour Party would join a

coalition government only if it did not include Chamberlain,

Simon and Hoare. A group of about 60 Conservative MPs

met under the leadership of Leopold Amery and Robert

Boothby and enunciated a demand for the formation of

a government which would represent all parties. “The

Prime Minister, whoever he might be, should choose his

colleagues on merit, and not on the recommendation of any

party manager,” they declared. A naive statement to come

from experienced politicians! Apropos of all these doings

Cadogan remarks: “The trade of politics is indeed a dirty

one... But all their beastly little envies and jealousies and

susceptibilities have to be ‘appeased’.”

The Conservative leaders were obliged to start talks on

changing the composition of the government. Chamberlain

stubbornly insisted that his post should go to Halifax, and

that Churchill should not have it. In the very midst of

the to-ing and fro-ing, on May 10, Germany began an advance

on the Western front, against Holland, Belgium and France.

“Most critical days. And here we are Cabinet-inaking!”

notes Cadogan.

180

Chamberlain cheered up when the German advance

began—he thought that under such circumstances no one

would dare replace him. But he was wrong. The emergency

situation meant it was necessary to form a government

including Labour and Liberals, and they stated their

preference for Churchill. That was decisive.

On May 11, 1940, Churchill formed his first Cabinet.

Instead of being Dominions Secretary Eden became Secretary

of State for War, but still had not a Cabinet seat. There

were three Labour Jeaders—Attlee, Bevin and Morrison—

in the Cabinet, and a Liberal, Sinclair, became Secretary

of State for Air. Chamberlain and Halifax remained mem-

bers of the Cabinet. Simon also got a ministerial post.

The men of Munich still had the majority of the govern-

ment posts. Churchill handled them with care and consider-

ation. This was hecause, in the first place, they had the

Party machine in their hands, and the new Prime Minister

could not do without their support. And in the second place,

Churchill's differences with the Munich men were only over

the line to be taken in foreign policy, in everything else

(heir solidarity was complete.

And what of Leopold Amery, who had headed the opposi-

tion to Chamberlain in Parliament? He was offered a second-

rank Ministry, the India Office. He had had ambitions of

getting the War Office, but had to take what he was given.

In doing so he very likely consoled himself with the thought

that those in the front rank do not always, by a long way,

reap the fruits of the victory which their efforts have brought

about. The same thought must have visited Duff Cooper,

who in October 1938 had resigned from the Chamberlain

Government in protest against the Munich Agreement—

he now got the not very vital post of Minister of Information.

Of the leading Munichites only Samuel Hoare was thrown

overboard. At the insistence of the Labour leaders, Chur-

chill left him out of the government and appointed him

Ambassador to Spain. “S. Hoare now to go to Madrid! J

suppose they want him safely out of the country!” writes

Cadogan.

At the front things moved fast. There were few illusions

in London as to the possibilities of France putting up any

great resistance. And if France fell, a direct attack upon

Britain was to be expected. Eden, in his new capacity as

Secretary of State for War, set about the hasty organisation

of Local Defence Volunteers, later to be known as the Home

181

Guard. Churchill went repeatedly to Paris (leaving Cham-

berlain as deputy in his absence) to meet his French col-

leagues, trying to infuse some confidence into them and to

prolong France’s resistance.

It was obvious that Mussolini was awaiting the outcome

of the battle for France and would enter the war on the

side of the victor. The Churchill Government made a des-

perate attempt to buy him over. On May 24 the Cabinet

commissioned Halifax, who had remained Foreign Secretary,

to inform the Malian Government that if Italy remained

neutral, Britain would ensure that she participated in the

future Peace Conference on the same terms as the victors.

But in Rome, and in other places too, they considered

that after France it would be the turn of Britain, and that

she would be crushed. So Halifax’s approaches had no effect,

and Italy entered the war on the side of Germany. As Broad

remarks: “It was the final commentary on the policy of

appeasement.” Britain now had another front to cope with

in the Mediterranean, in the Middle East and in North

Africa. Her strategic situation was thus made significantly

worse.

The Churchill Government tried to keep France fighting,

and at the same time took measures to pull its own expedi-

tionary corps out of France. They succeeded in saving their

men, but all their arms, including hand weapons, were

left on the beaches of Dunkirk. In default of a victory, the

evacuation was hailed as an immense success, and echoes

ofthis are still to be heard in memoirs and historical literature.

On June 22, 1940, France signed the capitulation terms.

Britain had not a single ally left on the European continent.

The German divisions had reached the shores of the English

Channel, with the white cliffs of Dover visible in good weath-

er. The invasion of the British Isles by the enemy hosts

became a very real threat.

At this dark hour the British people displayed notable

calm, determination and readiness to make any sacrifice

rather than permit the fascists to take over their country.

That settled the stance Churchill would take up, and made

it possible for him to declare that Britain would not sur-

render but continue the fight. The government set about

taking energetic measures in preparation for meeting the

threatened invasion. Churchill was a good orator, and his

speeches of this period were a ringing call to the people to

carry on the struggle.

182

As for Eden, Broad describes a broadcast speech of his

thus: “It was devoid of heroics. He used commonplace,

casual phrases. Ile spoke not as a leader in war spurring a

gallant people to die in defence of their land and their

liberties, but rather as the chairman of a company inviting

his shareholders to take part in an enterprise slightly out

of the ordinary line of business.”

But the War Minister’s deeds were more impressive than

his words. He organised the rapid re-armament of the

divisions evacuated from France (the weapons were as-

sembled from old stores, or, for the most part, bought

from the USA), also the enrolment and training of new

unils, the construction of defence works, and the further

recruitment and training of the Home Guard.

Supreme political control over all matters to do with the

war was held in the hands of Churchill, since he was not

only Prime Minister but also Minister of Defence. This

meant that the Secretaries for War (Eden), Air (the Liberal

Sinclair) and the Admirally (Alexander, a Labour man)

were all in effect Churchill’s assistants, each with his own

department. This arrangement entirely suited Churchill,

who wished to have all the strings in his own hands and to

make his own decisions on major matters, especially those

affecting military or foreign policy.

The government’s course of war against Germany and

ltaly meant that Britain’s economy and industry had to be

put on a war footing. Emergency legislation was stepped up.

Government measures were made much easier to execute

by the fact that the British people was prepared to work

for defence without thought of self.

The fact that for Britain the war from an imperialist was

becoming a just, anti-fascist war played a great part in the

mobilisation of the country’s resources for military require-

ments. True, there was a negative factor also in operation:

the desire of the monopolies to make war profits above all,

and the lack of desire on the part of pro-Nazi elements in

entrepreneurial circles to help the war effort against Ger-

many.

IL would be a profound error to think that this change of

the war for Britain from an imperialist to a just war meant

that the government of Britain abandoned its imperialist

war aims. Even al the most difficult moments in the course of

the war those aims still played a most important part. There

is no part of the globe where British policy and strategy in

183

the war years was not dictated by imperialist considerations,

be it Europe, the Mediterranean, Africa, Asia, the Pacific,

or the Atlantic.

~ In the summer of 1940 a ministerial committee on prob-

lems of the war in the Middle East, which sat under Eden’s

chairmanship, decided that reinforcements, to the tune of

two tank battalions, should be sent from Britain to the Mid-

dle East. At a time when the home country was under

threat of invasion, it was a risky business to thus weaken its

not very considerable military strength. In London they

were prepared to take that risk, because in the Middle Fast

Britain’s colonial positions were being threatened by Italy.

In the autumn, when Egypt was under threat from the ad-

vance of the Italians from Libya, Eden arrived in the Mid-

dle Fast with a special mission (in his absence the War

Office was supervised by Churchill). Together with the gener-

als commanding the British forces in the area he discussed

defence plans, supplies and reinforcements, and studied al-

so the possibilities for opening a Balkan front against Ger-

many and Italy. Such an initiative would have brought the

Balkan countries into the ranks of Britain’s active allies,

particularly Greece, Turkey and Yugoslavia. Such a front

would have been like a shield protecting British positions

in the eastern Mediterranean and the Middle East. But it

was clear that any such undertaking could hope for even a

measure of success only if supported by troops sent from Brit-

ain, preferably in strength, to Greece. And the available

troops were not numerous, and needed for the defence of

Fgypt.

Early in November 1940 Eden returned to London from

his quite prolonged tour. Good news awaited him.

British public opinion was not favourably impressed by

the post of Foreign Secretary continuing to be occupied by

an outright Munich man, Halifax. The policy he had es-

poused had been a failure, and its consequences catastrophic for

Britain. War with Germany and Italy called for a new line,

and that could not be implemented by a discredited “appeas-

er’, even if he did have the support of powerful reactionary

forces. It was clear that the main task of British foreign poli-

cy in the immediate future must be to gain support for Brit-

ain, in whatever form, from the USA and the USSR. Halifax

was Clearly going to he of no use in establishing better rela-

lions with Moscow.

In December the British Ambassador to the United States

484

—also a fully attested Munichite, Lord Lothian—died,

and Churchill decided to make Halifax his successor. When

he proposed this to Halifax himself, the latter attempted to

decline the offer politely. His lady wife was furious, and went

in person to speak to Churchill about it. The Premier treat-

ed Dorothy Halifax with great consideration, but remained

firm, and made it clear that she and her husband would

have to go to Washington.

Yalifax was obliged lo give in. But though he left to take

up an ambassadorial post, he remained a member of the War

Cabinet, and attended its meetings when he visited London.

An unprecedented arrangement indeed! And the point of it

was not only that Churchill wished to sugar the pill and to

make a conciliatory gesture in the direction of the circles

that backed Halifax—it was also meant as an indication that

from now on Britain altributed especial importance to its

relations with the USA.

The question of Halifax’s successor answered itself. Eden's

appointment as Foreign Secretary would be taken by the

mass of the people as a move in the right direction by the

eovernment, since Eden’s erstwhile departure from the

Chamberlain Government redeemed his participation in the

policy of “appeasement”; in the public view he appeared to

be an opponent of that policy.

Kden’s personal relationship with Churchill also played

no small part in his appointment. They had no differences

of conviction or political conceptions. Eden’s period out of

office had brought the two together. The elder statesman

liked the younger man’s industry, efficiency and skill in calm

diplomatic negotiation. The Prime Minister was even more

favourably impressed by the other’s invariable courtesy and

the fact that he did not try to push himself to the centre of

the stage. Eden knew his own ability and did not conceal

his admiration of his chief’s energy, will-power and dyna-

mism.

In the war years, and after, Churchill treated Eden with

paternal condescension, as Baldwin used to do.

On one occasion Churchill, in an access of emotion (he was

sometimes prone to this), said to Eden: “We shall work this

war together.” And, went on the Premier, since he was already

an old man (23 years older than Eden) he would not make

Lloyd George’s mistake of carrying on after the war. Eden

must be his successor. AS we now know, Churchill was not

given the opportunity of repeating Lloyd George’s mis-

485

_ ae ee

take, inasmuch as the electorate swept his party from office, |

yet he did not retire from active political life for 15 years

after that. But in October 1940 no one knew that, and Chur-

chill’s assurances were balm to the soul of his interlocutor. —

When Eden had replaced Halifax and become a member ©

of the War Cabinet, his status in the government was raised,

but his independence and freedom of action was not much

increased. The Foreign Secretary was often only the Pre-

mier’s adviser on foreign affairs.

On the whole that is in accord with the true relation of

roles as between the Foreign Secretary and the Prime Minister.

Churchill himself in his war memoirs certainly contributed,

probably unconsciously, to the creation of an impression that

Eden played a very subordinate part under his premiership.

In fact it is all rather more complex. Not long ago the En-

glish journalist and historian, Elisabeth Barker, in her book

Churchill and Eden at War (published in 1978), has made a

detailed study of state archives and of private papers the basis

of a reassessment—in our view a_ well-founded reassess-

ment—of the relationship between the two statesmen, in

favour of Eden.

Eden could not always, invariably, say “Yes” to Chur-

chill’s ideas on British foreign policy. In the first place, the

Foreign Office and its leading figures had their own position

on all these questions, one that was substantiated, calm and

carefully considered. And in many instances this position

did not coincide with Churchill’s impulsive thoughts. The

Foreign Office stood out firmly for its own viewpoint against

Churchill, and it did so through Eden. Eden could not

help but take account of the views of his own Ministry, the

more so since he saw them as well founded and in accord

with his own feelings and convictions. E. Barker writes

that “Cadogan had no hesitation in standing up to Chur-

chill or urging Eden to do so. Eden knew that if he gave way

too easily to Churchill he might Jose his own department’s

respect, which he valued very highly... Eden was the protag-

onist of the ideas and policies of his department.” And sec-

ondly, for the sake of maintaining his own prestige in the

eyes of the Foreign Office and his Cabinet colleagues Eden

simply had to say “No” to Churchill when he considered it

absolutely necessary to do so.

Of course Eden picked the best possible times and circum-

stances for raising his objections, taking his chief’s mood _

into account too. He would make the objections in the polit-;

186

est possible terms, often conventionally formal ones. And

the aggressive, obstinate Prime Minister frequently had to

take the arguments advanced by Eden into account. It was

after all clear to everyone that he, Eden, had the Foreign

Office behind him.

L. Woodward, the official historian of British foreign pol-

icy in the Second World War, writes: “Mr. Eden was thus

able to balance, and often to correct Mr. Churchill’s rapid

approach and equally rapid conclusions.” In Woodward’s

view, Eden was “a realist, and at the same time inclined by

temperament to think in terms of distant consequences and

ultimate considerations”.

“In wartime,” wrote Eden himself, “diplomacy is strategy’s

twin.” Certainly the part which foreign policy is called upon

to play in time of war is very considerable. It helps to increase

the forces available to a country by gaining it allies and

ensuring the necessary relations with these. But the success

of a foreign policy is dependent, not upon the skill of diplo-

mats (though that too is a factor which cannot be ignored),

but upon the economic, political and military strength which

backs it up. Arthur Balfour, British Foreign Secretary during

the First World War, wrote in his time: “While diplomatic

failures may hamper the army, military failures make the

Foreign Office helpless.” And that was the position in which

British foreign policy found itself in the period between the

French capitulation and the Soviet Union’s entry into the

war.

Back in March 1940 Cadogan had to note the difficulties

being experienced by Britain in its relations with the Scan-

dinavian countries. Later he was to say to Eden: “Diplomacy

is rather hamstrung by being deprived of the necessary ap-

paratus—military strength. Words don’t do anything.”

It was fully realised in London that Britain alone, even

with the resources of the entire British Empire to back it,

could net avoid crushing defeat in a war with Germany and

Italy, and in the impending conflict with Japan. Consequent-

ly there was only one way out: to find what had been fool-

ishly thrown away on the eve of war—allies. Of the countries

not belonging to the hostile camp only two possessed

real might—the USA and the USSR. So it was towards these

that the attention of British diplomats was then turned.

The need for strong allies grew greater after the failure

of the British attempt to create a Balkan front. By this time

the Italian attack on Greece from Albania had been halted

187

by the Greek forces, but it became known that soon Hitler

would come to the aid of Mussolini. Both fascist leaders

were striving to gain a firm footing in the Balkans. Hitler

needed this not only for the sake of utilising the rich resources

of the Balkan countries (food supplies, and oil), but in order

to open up the road to the Middle East for himself. And be-

sides that, aggression in the Balkans was to ensure that the

right flank of the German front would be covered in the

forthcoming attack on the USSR.

It was in early January 1941 that the Committee of Im-

perial Defence (a British governmental] body) took the deci-

sion on forming a Balkan front. It was essential to ensure,

firstly, the political side of this decision, i.e. the organisa-~

tion of a bloc or alliance of Balkan countries under the aegis

of Britain, and secondly, the military solution of the prob-

lem—-the sending of Brilish troops to Greece. With this ob-

ject Anthony Eden and the Chief of the Imperial General

Staff, General John Dill, were sent to the Middle East in

February on an urgent mission.

‘They met with great difficully in making their way there

by air. Bad weather delayed them first at Gibraltar, then at

Malta. Eden whiled away the dragging hours by reading

War and Peace. When at last they landed in Cairo, they

learned straight away, on the airfield, that General Wavell

had already begun to allocate the troops for Greece.

iden plunged into a whirl of diplomatic activity, but with

limited success. The Greeks, already fighting the Italians

and expecting a German invasion, agreed at once to accept

British troops, and the generals quickly concerted the opera-

tional details. But the Turkish Government would not re-

spond te London’s appeals, and announced that it would

enter the war only if Turkey were attacked. The Yugoslav

leaders manoeuvred, hoping to reach an agreement with

Germany. At that time few believed that Britain would hold

out—hence the difficulty of the Eden-Dill Mission.

On March 7 the first British troops reached Greece, and a

month later Germany Jaunched an attack on Yugoslavia

and Greece. The British were forced to evacuate their forces—

it was another, smaller, Dunkirk.

Britain’s position was again worsened. The failure of the

Balkan plans was compounded by a revolt of pro-German

elements in Iraq, where they seized power temporarily,

and by the success of the German and Italian advance against

Egypt. If was now more imporiant. than ever for Britain

488

;

to assure herself of help from the USA and the USSR.

At the beginning of June 1941, writes David Dilks, “Brit-

ish diplomacy could do comparatively little until reinforced

by the accession of allies’. Cadogan put the point with

more force: “Fact is that with our military weakness and the

sensational ineptitude of our commanders, diplomacy is

completely hamstrung.”

The British Government was already pressing the United

States for Allied support. At that time, as the English his-

torian Wheeler-Bennett notes, Britain was confronted by

the task of the “substitution of the United States of America

for France as Britain’s chief ally”. It was a more or less real-

istic object to pursue, but it required time, and there was

less and less of that available.

The ruling circles of the USA did not want Britain to

suffer defeat in the war, for if it did Germany would become a

much more considerable rival to the US itself than was the

British Empire that was becoming; decrepit. But for many

reasons, primarily to do with internal politics, the govern-

ment in Washington was unable in 1940 and early 1941 to

enter the war formally on the side of Britain. But it provided

Britain aid in arms and strategic raw materials.

The Churchill Government accepted that aid thankfully,

and buttered up the Americans diligently. When a new Amer-

ican Ambassador to Britain, Winant, arrived early in 1941,

King George VI met him at the station. British diplomatic

protocol knew no such precedent.

In Downing Street they were aware that the Roosevelt Gov-

ernment did not want to come into the war against Germa-

ny and ltaly and that even if it did so, it would be thinking

mainly of the Far East, where the fascist powers’ ally, Ja-

pan, was active and must inevitably clash with America.

So only material aid could be looked for from the USA in

Europe and the Middle East; the prospect of American divi-

sions appearing there seemed remote.

But Britain needed an ally capable of withstanding the nu-

merous German crack divisions. Only the Soviet Union

could be such an ally—there was no one else in Europe. Only

a little time ago the British Government had refused the

Soviet offer of alliance, and had even tried to attack the

USSR along with Finland. After that, it was hard to suppose

that one could rapidly normalise relations with the USSR,

when these had been brought to such a pitch by the actions of

the British side.

189

The difficulties attending improvement of Anglo-Soviet

relations were heightened by the fact that in British ruling

circles the need for their improvement was sharply contest-

ed. But the course of events quickly strengthened the hand

of those who favoured joint action with the USSR.

In May 1940 (after the German seizure of Denmark and

Norway, and their successes in France) the British Govern-

ment took some steps in the direction of normalising rela-

tions with Moscow. The Labour leader, Stafford Cripps,

was sent to Moscow to try and conclude far-reaching eco-

nomic and political agreements with the Soviet Govern-

ment. The ultimate aim of all these efforts was to bring the

USSR into the war against Germany.

Early in 1941 the British Government received informa-

tion suggesting that Hitler might attack the Soviet Union.

This roused fresh hopes that the German threat to the British

Isles might be reduced. And this time there was no desire (as

there had been early in 1940) to join with Germany in an anti-

Soviet crusade. What troubled the minds of British politi-

cians now was the fear that the USSR might make major

concessions to Germany and so prevent war breaking out

between them.

On May 31 a very significant note appears in Cadogan’s

diary regarding a consultation he attended between Hden

and the Chiefs of Staff (of the army, air force and navy):

“Chiefs of Staff have come to conclusion that Germany is

prepared to attack Russia. I agree, but I believe that Russia

will give way and sign on the dotted line. I wish she shouldn't,

and I should love to see Germany expending her strength

there. But they’re not such fools.” In these lines one senses

how profoundly worried the leaders of Britain’s Govern-

ment were.

They did not sit there and do nothing. Churchill, Eden,

Cadogan—they all warned the Soviet Government repeat-

edly that Germany would very soon attack the USSR.

Eden and Cadogan spoke of it to the Soviet Ambassador in

London, and Churchill wrote to J. V. Stalin. These warnings,

of course, were meant to give Moscow the chance to prepare,

so that there would be no chance of a last-minute capitula-

tion to Hitler. The warnings were couched in such a way

as to give the Soviet leaders to understand that, if war came,

Britain would not be hostile to the USSR. They were meant

as an earnest of the British Government’s good intent to-

wards the Soviet Government, as a transparent hint regard-

190

i a SE RETEST

ing readiness to cooperate, and as a psychological step near-

er to an alliance in the future.

At the same time, though, there can be no doubt that

these apparently friendly advances towards the USSR were

intended to contribute to the outbreak of war between the

Soviet Union and Germany. The British Government not

only egged on the Soviet Government to tear up its non-

aggression pact with Germany and take action against her,

they were at the same time egging on Hitler to attack the

USSR. In the spring of 1941 British intelligence contrived

to let the German Embassy in Washington have a report

stating that the USSR allegedly intended to undertake mili-

tary action.

The warnings from London were no news for the Soviet

Government. It had received similar information from other

sources. But the persistent warnings from the British could

not help but rouse suspicions regarding their motives. And

that put in doubt the facts conveyed. In a telegram to Lon-

don on April 5 Cripps expressed his certainty that the So-

viet Government were aware of the facts which the Prime

Minister wished to tell them, and that Moscow might inter-

pret British actions “as an attempt by us to make trouble

between Russia and Germany”.

The Soviet leaders knew very well that war between Ger-

many and the USSR was something that British ruling circ-

les had always wanted, and that at that juncture it was prac-

tically Britain’s only hope of salvation. Under such cir-

cumstances it was diflicult to believe in London’s “goodwill”.

Churchill himself realised this. The Prime Minister comment-

ed to Sir Cripps’ telegram: “They [the Soviet Government]

know perfectly well their danger and also that we need their

aid.”

So when on June 22, 1941, Germany perfidiously attacked

the Soviet Union, Churchill did not need to call a Cabinet

meeting or summon the House of Commons to give its

opinion on what line to take. The decision on that had been

taken long ago. As early as June 10, Eden had told the Soviet

Ambassador in London that “in the event of a Russo-Ger-

man war, we should do everything in our power to attack by

air German-occupied territory in the west”. Three days

later, after consulting with the Prime Minister, Eden again

met the Ambassador and told him that “if the Germans at-

lacked the U.S.S.R., we should be willing to send a mis-

Sion to Russia representing the three fighting services... We

194

should also give urgent consideration to Russian economic

needs.”

On June 22, which was a Sunday, Churchill was as usual

at Chequers. Since the preceding Friday he had been in a

highly excited state, a mood which communicated itself to

the others present—Eden, Cripps, Winant, and the Minister

of Supply Lord Beaverbrook, who was an intimate of Chur-

chill’s. When news came that Germany had attacked the

USSR, the tension was released. The Prime Minister said

that he would speak over the radio that evening, and re-

tired to prepare his speech.

In his broadcast speech Churchill declared that in this

war Britain would be on the side of the USSR, and ex-

plained why: if Germany succeeded in vanquishing the Soviet

Union, Hitler will “bring back the main strength of his ar-

my and air force from the East and hurl it upon this Island.

His invasion of Russia is no more than a prelude to an attem-

pted invasion of the British Isles... The Russian danger is

therefore our danger and the danger of the United States.”

The British Government had no other rational choice. It

was faced with a dilemma: either to ally itself with the

USSR, or to face a terrible defeat in the war with Germany

and Italy.

The necessity for cooperation with the USSR compelled

Churchill to overcome for the time being his hatred of the

Soviet state, but not to give it up. The Prime Minister saw

fit to remark at this time that he would seek alliance with

the devil himself if it were necessary. This moral and psy-

chological attitude could not but leave its mark upon the re-

lations between Britain and the USSR, as allies, in the suc-

ceeding course of the Second World War.

In preparing his speech Churchill did not call upon

Eden’s help. In fact he sent him off to London to see the So-

viet Ambassador and inform him of the British Govern-

ment’s position. The speech was not shown in advance to

Cadogan either. Churchill was concerned lest they might

try to make him tone down the speech. The toning down,

of course, would have affected not those passages in which

he spoke of communism, but the actual statement that Brit-

ain would support the Soviet Union. Eden never liked cate-

gorical statements.

It was Eden who had the job of making Britain’s new ally

known to the House of Commons. His Parliamentary speech

followed the lines of Churchill’s broadcast, but was much

192

calmer and less categorical. On Anglo-Soviet relations, Eden

recalled the text of the communique issued after his visit to

Moscow in 1935. That had stated that there was no conflict

of interest between the two governments on the most impor-

tant issues of international relations. This statement, said

Iden, merely reflected the true state of affairs. Then, echo-

ing Churchill, he said: “The political systems of our two

countries are antipathetic, our ways of life are widely diver-

gent, but this cannot and must not for a moment obscure

the realities of the political issue which confronts us to-day.

This country has probably fewer Communists than any na-

tion in Europe. We have always hated the creed, but that is

not the issue. Russia has been invaded, wantonly, treacher-

ously, without warning. The Russians to-day are fighting for

their soil. They are fighting the man who seeks to dominate

the world. This is also our sole task.”

In Eden’s speech (as in Churchill’s) one finds the thesis

that Hitler’s invasion of the USSR is only a prelude to his

attacking Britain and the British I:mpire. This shows

that both speakers were fully confident of a German victory

over the USSR. As history has shown, they were incapable

of making a true estimate of their ally’s strength and of

foreseeing the actual course of later events in the Second

World War. Churchill and Iden were not alone in this by

any means. Their scepticism was founded on the reports

made by British Intelligence and the estimates produced by

British military headquarters.

This conviction that the USSR mustinevitably be defeat-

ed’ dictated a definite line of conduct towards their Soviet

ally. From now on the British Government saw it as their

most important task to prolong Soviet resistance to the Ger-

man military machine for as long as possible. The weaker

that machine became on Soviet territory, the less would be

the subsequent threat to Britain.

In the United Stales of America the question of establish-

ing allied relations with the USSR was being solved with

greater difficulty. US ruling circles had the same class ha-

tred for the country of socialism as their British colleagues.

But they had not lived through a Dunkirk of their own, and

many in the United States fell themselves to be safer than

the British, not realising the potential threat to them con-

tained in possible further successes by Nazi Germany. Only

people of progressive views, especially Communists, plus

some realistically inclined politicians, declared themselves

13-01222 193

immediately in Tavour of supporting the Soviet Union.

“Under these circumstances,” the Soviet historian L. V. Po-

zdeyeva notes, “Roosevelt’s personal intervention was of im-

mense importance. Roosevelt’s adherence to principle, and

his realism, his correct understanding of the state and nation-

al interests of the USA, which he was able to place above

his class prejudices and antipathy to communism—these

qualities were once again shown at the outbreak of war be-

tween Germany and theSoviet Union.” At a_ press confer-

ence held on June 23, Roosevelt declared that the government

of the United States would give all possible aid to Russia

in its struggle against Germany.

The British people heartily welcomed the news that their

country had become the ally of the Soviet Union in the

fight against the common foe. It placed great hopes on this

alliance.

The Soviet people and its army suffered heavy losses, but

fought on with ever-increasing stubbornness. Something

was taking place in the USSR quite unlike the course of the

war in Western Europe. The value of the Soviet ally grew

rapidly in the eyes of the London Government, and the sym-

pathy of the British people for the USSR grew even more rap-

idly.

One might have thought that in Downing Street they must

inevitably reach the conclusion that it was vital to give the

USSR maximum possible assistance, so that it could fight

against Germany and her allies as effective as possible. And

it was only natural that the Soviet Government should ad-

dress repeated requests to the British Government in this

connection.

Churchill’s speech of June 22, 1941, contained generous

promises, but the precise meaning of them was anything

but clear. The Prime Minister had declared that “we shall

give whatever help we can to Russia”, and that “we have

offered the Government of Soviet Russia any technical or

economic assistance which isin our power”. The same vague-

ness remained even after the signing on July 12 of an agree-

ment providing for joint action by the governments of the

USSR and of Britain in the war against Germany.

The Soviet Union had every right to expect not only assis-

tance from Britain in the war against the common enemy,

but also that its interests would be taken into account in the

post-war peace settlement. The problems of the peace set-

tlement to be reached after the war were being discussed by

194

the British Government with its ally, not yet involved in

the war—the United States of America.

At the beginning of August 1941 there was a meeting be-

tween Churchill and Roosevelt at Argentia in Newfoundland.

The two heads of government discussed a number of questions

concerning the course of the war, and adopted the Atlantic

Charter, in which the war aims of the two countries were

formulated. Those aims, that is, which could be publicly

mentioned, and which would stimulate the war effort of the

peoples. Churchill said that the Charter was “an interim and

partial statement of war aims designed to assure all coun-

tries of our righleous purpose, and not the complete struc-

ture which we should build after victory”. At the conference

the ultimate objectives were also discussed. They envisaged

the establishment after the war of Anglo-American world

domination. Therefore it was contemplated that other coun-

tries should be disarmed, while Britain and the USA re-

main armed. Those two countries were to make the post-war

settlement. The USA and Britain were also preparing to

define the place of the USSR in the post-war world in their

own way.

The Soviet Government was insisting that Britain should

undertake military operations in Western Europe in order

to draw a number of German divisions away from the Soviet

front; it also raised the issue of aid in the form of arms and

raw materials. In London these requests were fobbed off

with references to the impossibility of meeting Soviet

wishes ... and troops were sent to the Middle Kast. The corre-

spondence between Stalin and Churchill shows that the So-

viet Government did not hide its dissatisfaction with this

state of things.

Even Stafford Cripps, in the USSR and observing the he-

roic efforts of the Soviet people, was disgusted by the Brit-

ish Government's cavalier attitude to the discharge of its

allied obligations. Cripps believed, Eden writes, that “we

in London had paid little attention toStalin’s remarks and

telegraphed that he could see no use in staying any longer

in Russia.”

In London they decided to soothe the Soviet Government

by diplomatic means, but not to meet its just demands. This

ticklish mission was entrusted to Eden. Recalling those days,

he later wrote: “Politically, Britain’s relations with her

allies were now my chief concern until the end of the war.”

In November Churchill recurred, this time in more specif-

13* 195

ic terms, to the idea of Eden being his preferred successor.

In the presence of Brendan Bracken, the Minister of Infor-

mation, and two other Conservative Party representatives,

Churchill said that if anything should happen to him, the

reins of government would be assumed by Eden. Gradually

people were being accustomed to the idea that Eden was the

official heir apparent to the Prime Minister.

The Foreign Secretary spent November and the beginning

of December preparing for his trip to Moscow. He had long

conversations with Churchill and the Chiefs of Staff as to

what he might promise the Soviet Government. At one time

they were going to promise a number of air squadrons for the

southern sector of the front, then they thought better of it;

they agreed to additional deliveries of tanks and aircraft,

then that fell off as well. Eden writes: “I talked over the mili-

tary part of my mission to Moscow with the Prime Minister

and the Chiefs of Staff. It was bleak.”

Ultimately the Cabinet approved a memorandum which

\iden was to deliver to Stalin, “to exorcize certain suspicions

from Stalin’s mind”. Among these was the idea “that we

wished to exclude Russia from an Anglo-American scheme for

a post-war settlement, that in making peace we should ig-

nore Russian interests”, etc. In fine, this was a list of the

disloyal intentions which Britain actually was nourishing

towards the USSR. Eden was to exorcise these “suspicions”

by proposing to sign, while in Moscow, “a joint declaration

proclaiming our mutual agreement to collaborate not only

in making the peace settlement but in maintaining it”. Be-

sides this, he was to discuss questions of post-war reconstruc-

tion with the Soviet Government, and a number of other is-

sues.

The declaration as drawn up by Eden contained no con-

crete obligations. It sought to conceal the absence of Brit-

ish aid to the Soviet Union beneath smoothly turned, vague

diplomatic phrases. Even Cadogan was critical of the scheme.

He referred to the draft Anglo-Russian declaration, in

his diary, as being “as thin as restaurant coffee”.

The date of departure approached, and on December 4

Cadogan wrote: “Discussed Russian trip. Appears now

that we shall not even have material to offer to Russians in

place of divisions. A. (Eden) rightly made a stink about this,

but agreed to go.”

Eden’s party left London on December 7. The Foreign

Secretary was accompanied by the inevitable Cadogan, by

196

—————— 6A a i ot

ISden’s Private Secretary, Oliver Harvy, and Frank Roberts,

a Foreign Office official from the department handling rela-

tions wilh the Soviel Union.

In those war years it was not easy to travel from London

to Moscow. Eden went by the Northern Sea Route. First by

train to Scotland, and then by cruiser to Murmansk. The

group arrived on the morning of December 8 at the naval

base of Invergordon, and there Eden learned from Churchill

(who rang him from London) that the Japanese had attacked

the American naval base at Pearl Harbour in the Pacific.

This meant America’s entry into the war. “I could not con-

ceal my relief,” says Eden, recalling this telephone conver-

sation. Churchill told him that he would himself be going

to the USA to discuss appropriate measures with Roosevelt.

On December 12 the cruiser Kent delivered the party at

Murmansk. At that time it was a front-line town, living a

tough and fighting life. The authorities there offered Eden

the choice of leaving by air, which was chancy owing to Lhe

bad weather, or going on by train. Under wartime conditions,

the train journey would take about 60 hours. Eden chose the

train. Perhaps he was influenced by what he was told by Gen-

eral Nye, one of those accompanying the group, that there

was a secret rule in the Air Ministry which laid down that

when anyone from their staff had to be at a certain place at

a certain time, he must travel by train.

In Moscow Eden was accommodated in the Hotel Natio-

nale. This hotel found favour, for Eden and Cadogan felt it

much resembled the Beau Rivage in Geneva, where the Brit-

ish delegation had always stayed when attending the League

of Nations. The English party looked at Moscow, which that

December was itself a front-line city; they visited the Depart-

ment Store “Mostorg” noting with interest the sale of deco-

rations for New Year fir-trees, and were surprised to see that

at sucha moment there was a brisk trade in books. Then

Eden and Cadogan asked to be taken to Poklonnaya (Obei-

sance) Hill, where in 1812 Napoleon had waited in vain to

receive the keys of Moscow. Both were disappointed to find

that fog prevented them seeing the view of Moscow from the

hilltop.

The talks the Soviet leaders had with Eden were diffi-

cult ones. The British draft declaration (sometimes referred

to as an agreement) failed to deceive the eye of the Soviet

side. Instead cf the “thin coflec” offered it, the Soviet Govern-

ment proposed that a concrete treaty be signed of alliance

197

and mutual military aid between the Soviet Union and Brit-

ain in the war against Germany. It was further proposed

that there should be a second treaty, providing for “mutual

understanding between the Soviet Union and Great Britain

regarding the settlement of post-war problems”. Eden was by

no means prepared to conduct concrete talks on such themes,

stil! less to sign definite obligations.

The sharpest disagreements arose over the question of the

Soviet Union’s frontiers. Eden was asked whether Britain

guaranteed that during the post-war peace settlement it

would support the USSR’s demand for the recognition of its

frontiers as existing on June 22, 1941. The talks showed that

the question had been raised rightly and timely. Eden re-

plied that he was not able to promise such a thing.

To Halifax in Washington he telegraphed thus: “I used

the Atlantic Charter as an argument against him [Stalin].”

These are significant words. They mean no less than the fact

that Churchill and Roosevelt had formulated the Charter in

such a way as to be directed not only against the enemies of

the anti-Hitler coalition, but in some measure, against

the USSR as well. At any rate that was how Eden interpret-

ed it. In this connection Stalin declared to Eden: “I

thought that the Atlantic Charter was directed against those

people who were trying to establish world dominion. It

now looks as if the Charter was directed against the USSR.”

Eden tried to wriggle out of it, but he was asked in round

terms: “Why does the restoration of our frontiers conflict

with the Atlantic Charter?” Eden was obliged to reply:

“I never said that it did.” Which was clearly untrue, and this

is confirmed by, among other things, the above-quoted tele-

gram to Halifax.

On this same subject, Stalin told Eden: “All we ask for is

to restore our country to its former frontiers. We must have

these for our security and safety... I want to emphasize the

point that if you decline to do this, it looks as if you were cre-

ating a possibility for the dismemberment of the Soviet

Union. I am surprised and amazed at Mr. Churchill’s Govern-

ment taking up this position. It is practically the same as

that of the Chamberlain Government.” Eden pleaded that

without agreement with the United States Government and

those of the Dominions, he could not meet the wishes of the

USSR. This too was an excuse. The British Government

could, if it wished to, and did settle such matters indepen-

dently.

198

Having got into difficulties in his talks with the Soviet

leaders, Eden decided to resort to cunning. On the way back

to the hotel he agreed with Cadogan and the other members

of the delegation that when they came to see him in his room

ithey would use strong words about their reactions to the So-

wiet stand, and threaten to break the talks off. The point was

tthat they considered it a foregone conclusion that their rooms

would be bugged, so that any indignation they expressed

there would be passed on to the right quarter. Accord-

ing to Cadogan, they all willingly agreed to take part in

this bit of theatre, and went about it élan. But as neither

Cadogan nor Eden ever says a word more about the results of

the exercise, one can only think that it failed of its efffect.

Eden’s talks in Moscow did not yield the results the Brit-

ish had hoped for. Rather the contrary. And at the same time

the Soviet leaders had now been made aware of the position

of the Churchill Government on a number of important is-

sues. As for the objective results of the talks, they were on

tthe whole a useful step along the hard road of assembling an

anti-Hitler coalition, although they did not produce the re-

sults the Soviet Government had hoped for. “Recognizing

failure,” Cadogan wrote on December 20, “we had brought

short draft [to lay before the Soviet side—V.T7.] of usual

colourless communiqué. On arrival, found Russians had a

much better one, which we at once accepted.”

The position of the Soviet Union, defined in the course of

the talks with Eden in December 1941, was consistently ad-

hered to throughout the war. David Dilks has this to say on

the subject: “What is remarkable is thateven at this stage, af-

ter six months of desperate crisis and with the German armies

at the gates of Moscow, the Russians should have formulated

their policy so precisely and pressed it so confidently.”

On the day when Eden left Moscow, Churchill arrived in

Washington to consult with Roosevelt. The talks were en-

tirely successful, and the Prime Minister was very pleased

with them. The important point for Britain was that the

USA agreed to consider Germany as Enemy No. 1, and Ja-

pan as Enemy No. 2. This meant that the European theatre

of war would take priority.

On January 8, 1942, Churchill sent the following telegram

to Eden regarding his talks in Moscow: “No one can foresce

how the balance of power will lie or where the winning ar-

mies will stand at the end of the war. It seems probable how-

ever that the United States and the British Empire, far

199

from being exhausted, will be the most powerful armed and

economic bloc the world has ever seen, and that the Soviet.

Union will need our aid for reconstruction far more than we

shall need theirs.” A truly comprehensive formulation!

It embodies, still, the idea that Britain and the USA together:

will arrange the post-war peace, and the calculation that the:

USSR will be totally enfeebled, to the advantage of British

and American imperialism. And since such an enfeeblement

would be advantageous, then it should be induced by all

available means. This strategic calculation is present in Brit-

ish policy throughout all the war years.

The end of 1941 and the start of 1942 were marked by one

of the most important events of the Second World War.

The batlle for Moscow ended in a crushing defeat for the at-

tacking German armies, and the Red Army went over to

the offensive. Britain and the USA, on the other hand, suf-

fered heavy defeats in the Pacific and in Asia, in their battles.

with the Japanese. The loss of Singapore, a major military

and naval base, was seen by Churchill as not only a great

disaster, but a disgrace to British arms. The first nine months

of 1942 were considered by Cadogan to be “the hardest

time” for British foreign policy, “on account of the sense of

impotence bred by successive military setbacks and conse-

quent diplomatic weakness”.

The wreck of their calculations on defeat in war for the

USSR, plus the British and the United States disasters in

the Pacific, evoked very disturbing thoughts about the future,

in London. Circumstances compelled the British Govern-

ment to review its basic concepts. The Soviet-German front

was the main theatre of the Second World War, and this rad-

ically altered the views of the British Cabinet on the role

of the USSR in the war and, in consequence, in the post-war

world. What if those calculations, that the USSR would be

totally enfeebled in the fight with fascism, were to be proved

wrong, and the USSR should end the war with triumphant

victories? In Moscow Eden had found not only complete con-

fidence that Germany would be utterly defeated, but readi-

ness by the USSR to play its part in the future in the war in

the Far East. In case events should take such a turn measures

must be taken, and fast.

Eden returned from Moscow convinced that the Soviet

Union was fully determined to carry on the fight. As soon

as January 1942, therefore, he prepared a memorandum for

the Cabinet in which he detailed changes affecting British

200

policy towards the USSR. “On the assumption that Germany

is defeated,” wrote Eden, “and German military strength is

destroyed and that France remains, fora long time at least,

a weak power, there will be no counterweight to Russia in

ISurope... Russia’s position on the European continent will

be unassailable. Russian prestige will be so great that the

establishment of Communist Governments in the majority

of European countries will be greatly facilitated.”

This prospect, distant as it was at the time, was Eden’s

and his colleagues’ nightmare throughout the war years.

Reviewing the Soviet Government’s position regarding the

frontiers of the USSR, Eden wrote: “If Hitler were over-

thrown, Russian forces would end the war much deeper in Ku-

rope than they began it in 1941. It therefore seemed prudent

to bind the Soviet Government to agreements as early as

possible.” The memorandum noted that the United States

Government did not, at this stage, share this conviction,

but “became more tolerant of Soviet demands as Hussian

military victories developed”. Eden knew that the Soviet

Government had its suspicions, and well-founded suspicions

they were, that Britain and the USA were planning to es-

tablish their own world domination after the war. He there-

fore proposed that they should “abstain from any action

which would intensify the Soviet Government’s already ex-

isting suspicion that we look forward to an Anglo-American

peace in which Russian interests would be thwarted or ig-

nored”. Since in the event of the USSR being victorious in the

war the Soviet Government would not agree to its frontiers

being other than they had been in 1941, Eden considered it

reasonable to agree to the demand for recognition of the 1944

frontiers, and to confirm this by treaty.

This memorandum of Eden’s is a most important docu-

ment. It laid down British policy towards the USSK for

many years to come. The underlying basis of that policy was

the desire to keep the USSR away, by all possible means,

from taking part in the settlement of European affairs, that

is to deprive it of the fruits of victory in the war. The mem-

orandum at the same time demonstrates the full unity of

views concerning the USSR between Eden and Chur-

chill.

In May 1942 the USSR People’s Commissar for Foreign

Affairs, V. M. Molotov, arrived in London, and on May

26 together with Eden he signed an Anglo-Soviet Treaty of

Alliance in the War Against Hitler Germany and Her As-

201

sociates in Europe and of Collaboration and Mutual Assis-

tance Thereafter. The question of frontiers did not figure in

the text of the treaty. Eden’s intention of “binding the

USSR” on this issue had not been realised. At that time some

people in the Foreign Office thought that it would be easy

to settle the matter of frontiers later. The Soviet Govern-

ment, interested in strengthening a united front of govern-

ments and peoples to ensure victory over fascism, had decid-

ed at that time not to insist upon its just demands concern-

ing the frontiers, soas not to hold up the signing of the trea-

ty with Britain, which was an important contribution to the

formation of the anti-Hitler coalition. It was clear to the So-

viet leaders that the frontier question would be settled ac-

cording to the balance of power prevailing at the end of the

war. When victory at last put this question back on the

agenda, Eden—according to David Dilks—“opposed Russia’s

demands more vigorously than Churchill”.

V.M. Molotov went on from London to the USA for talks

with the American Government. It was clear that the subject

of these would be the opening of a second front, i.e. an Al-

lied invasion of the European continent, in order to relieve

the position of the USSR on the Soviet-German front and

bring the war to an end more quickly. The British Govern-

ment stubbornly avoided such an undertaking, directing its

resources instead to the Middle East, where Italy and Ger-

many were threatening British colonial interests.

Now Roosevelt had invited Soviet representatives to

Washington. “I was disturbed at these American projects,”

Eden was to recall later. He admits that at that time he was

against a second front. His diary shows an entry for April

10, 1942: “Saw Winston after luncheon. We spoke of Ameri-

can plan. He feared General Staff would say ‘Yes’ and make

this a pretext for doing less elsewhere.”

There are two important points here. Firstly, Eden is dis-

turbed by Molotov’s visit to Washington. There were reasons

for this. During the war years Britain persistently tried to

establish herself as a kind of intermediary in Soviet-Ameri-

can relations. Churchill and Eden always objected if there |

was any question of direct Soviet-American contact, while at |

the same time trying to keep the Soviet Government at a dis- ©

tance in their own, British, talks with the Americans, even ©

in cases when the interests of the USSR were directly in- |

volved in the talks.

Secondly, the diary entry shows clearly that British mili-

202

tary leaders might have agreed to the opening of a second

front in 1942. It was, incidentally, admitted to be a possibil-

ity at staff talks in London in early April of that year. This

in itself blows skyhigh the arguments advanced by Churchill,

Eden and others, that for Britain and the USA to open a sec-

ond front in 1942 was a physical impossibility.

Eden was right to be worried over the Soviet representa-

tives’ visit to the USA. V. M. Molotov came back to London

from Washington with a Soviet-American communique

which spoke of the opening of a second front in Europe in the

course of 1942. The British Government associated itself

with this agreement in the conscious knowledge that it did

not intend to implement it.

Britain and the USA had the necessary conditions for the

opening of a second front in 1942. Firstly, the German army

suffered heavy losses in its battles with the Red Army, and

all its main forces were diverted to the Soviet front. Second-

ly, the Allies had the material resources for an invasion at

their disposal, witness the opinions of both American and

British military leaders. And thirdly, the British people was

pressing insistently for the second front to be opened, and

this operation above all others would have been assured of

universal popular support.

None the less, London came to an agreement with Wash-

ington that no second front would be opened in 1942, and an

Anglo-American landing in North Africa would be made in-

stead.

But how would the Soviet Government react, having been

promised a second front in June? Churchill went to Mos-

cow himself to make the explanations. In his first talk with

Stalin, Churchill informed him that in 1942 the Allies would

make a landing in North Africa, but that a large-scale inva-

sion of the European continent would be launched by Anglo-

American forces in 1943. In response to that J. V. Stalin

told him, as Churchill said to those in his party, that Lon-

don and Washington had not kept their promise on the sec-

ond front.!

Churchill was furious. He told his companions: “I have

come round Europe in the midst of my troubles ... hoping

to meet the hand of comradeship: and I am bitterly disap-

pointed. I have not met that hand.” What an occasion! The

Prime Minister had his very self come to Moscow, to explain

everything to “those Russians”, and they, instead of falling

into raptures over the dishonest behaviour of the British, had

203

dared to tell him that a government should discharge obliga- }

tions it had taken upon itself.

Churchill put on a great act to his companions, threat- |

ening to leave Moscow without even saying goodbye to the

Soviet leaders. The others persuaded him not to do this—for

if he quarrelled with the Soviet Government, it would mean

more sacrifice for Britain in the war. Furthermore, they con-

sidered there was no cause for resentment, since, as Cadogan

noted, they had at least not heard “a hint from Stalin that

if the Western Allies could not do more, he did not know how

much longer Russia could stand the strain. On the contrary.”

Churchill’s rage came from the consciousness of being seen

through.

In breaking their promise of opening a second front, the

ruling circles of Britain and the USA struck a heavy blow

at the anti-Hitler coalition. Any other government, finding

itseif in the position of the Soviet Government in the sum-

mer of 1942, would have decided to find a way out through

a separate peace with the enemy (and Churchill seriously

feared this). But the Soviet people and its leaders were filled

with determination to bring the war to a victorious end. It

was essential not only to remove the danger threatening the

Soviet Union from outside, but to free the peoples of Europe

from fascism by smashing Nazi Germany and her allies. As

Dilks stresses, after the Moscow lalks “Churchill ... felt

quile sure that the Russians would fight on to victory. In-

deed, Stalin had spoken of his forthcoming counterstroke”

(this referred to what later evolved into the rout of the Ger-

mans at Stalingrad). The firmness and realism of the Soviet

Government in its dealings with ils allies, and the will for

victory of the Soviet people, helped to keep the anti-Hit-

ler coalition together and so made significantly easier the

struggle to vanquish fascism.

Wartime alliances do not always withstand the deception

of one ally by another. And with regard to the second front

there was conscious, calculated deception. Now, when the

relevant documents have been made public, no conscientious

historian doubts this. The American Trumbull Higgins, for

instance, writes that Churchill had “deliberately deceived

his ussian ally”, and had done it more than once. In August

1942 the British Premier assured the Soviet Government |

that the second front would certainly be opened in the

coming year. History was to show that this too was decep- |

tion.

204

The question arises—why so much perfidy with an ally

which was making colossal sacrifices to save not only itself,

but Britain too? The answer can be found in Anthony Eden’s

memorandum of January 1942. to which reference has al-

ready been made, and in Churchill’s memorandum of Octo-

ber 1942.

The Moscow talks left the British Government with mixed

feelings. They were relieved and happy to have gained the

conviction that the Soviet Union would continue to fight.

But fear and alarm were the feelings roused in London by

the prospect of the USSR not only surviving the struggle,

but gaining victory over Germany. “By 1943,” as the La-

bour Monthly was to write, “panic seized the Western rulers

at the prospect of the fall of fascism and the victory of com-

munism.” This assessment is based on the Churchill memo-

randum of October 1942, in which he wrote: “My thoughts

rest primarily in Europe, the parent continent of the modern

nations and of civilisation. It would be a measureless disas-

ter if Russian barbarism everlaid the culture and indepen-

dence of the ancient states of urope. Hard as it is to say

now, [ trust that the European family may act unitedly as

one under a Council of Europe.” Further the memorandum

stated that the council was to consist of ten European

countries, including Germany and Italy, and act against the

Soviet Union.

This is a document of great historical importance. In

it we see repeated (only in a sharper and more vicious form)

the same ideas which were contained in Eden’s memoran-

dum. Both documents formulated the programme for Brit-

ish foreign policy for the period of the war and for many

years thereafter. The struggle to put that programme into

effect provided the main content of the entire subsequent

political lives of both Churchill and Eden.

Two further points concerning the Churchill memorandum

spring to the eye, even if they are less significant ones. He be-

gan to draw it up immediately after his return from Moscow,

and this shows how much “sincerity” there had been in his

words about coming to the Soviet capital with friendship

in his heart. Further, the memorandum was drawn up at

the height of the Battle of Stalingrad, which is indicative of

the feelings which the British Prime Minister really had for

the Soviet people. Fortunately for us and unfortunately for

the British Government, the Soviet leaders had a perfectly

clear understanding of the true altitude of Downing Street to

205

the USSR, something which British bourgeois historians are

nol prepared to forgive the Soviet Government.

1943 was the year in which the Red Army, in the historic

Battle of Stalingrad, turned the tide of the Great Patriotic

War, and hence of the Second World War as a whole. It

was a hard year for the USSR, but even then the British Gov-

ernment did not open the second front, thus breaking its

pledged word yet again. Arms deliveries from Britain were

not in great quantity, and irregular, failing to arrive just

when they were most needed, at difficull moments on the

Soviet-German front.

When at last, in 1944, there was an Allied landing in Europe,

those organising it were concerned nol so much with giving

aid to the Soviet Union as with limiling the advance of the

latter’s armed forces into Central and Western Europe. They

were not altogether successful in this, which prompted the

British Government to take a step fraught with treachery

and betrayal: in the spring of 1945 it was seriously planning

to line up with those German divisions that were still unbro-

ken, and take action along with them against their own al-

ly, which had at the cost of incredible effort gained victory

for itself and for Britain, as well as for other peoples. It

is monstrous, unbelievable, but it is a fact, and a fact admit-

ted by the leaders of the British Government themselves.

We know of it from Churchill’s own words.

Anglo-American relations also were far from cloudless

during the war, although to outward view there was nothing

untoward—Churchill and Roosevelt met frequently and cor-

responded regularly. Britain’s alliance with the USA, al-

though not confirmed by treaty, was much firmer, and

reached much wider and deeper, than that with the USSR.

Yet none the less in their relations inter-imperialist contra-

dictions were becoming more intense and deep.

The British Government did its best to shift the burden

of war on to the shoulders of its American ally, and to dic-

tate strategy and tactics which would further British inter-

ests. But this became progressively more difficult to do.

As the war developed it quickly became apparent that Brit-

ain’s contribution was less than that of the US, let alone

that of the USSR. The American Government used its pre-

ponderance in power to “crowd” Britain to no uncertain ex-

tent, seizing upon many positions formerly British—in its

colonies, its foreign trade, its strategic dispositions and

spheres of foreign policy.

206

After Stalingrad, both London and Washington faced up

to the coming problems of the post-war organisation of peace;

a victorious end to the war was no longer in doubt. Owing,

maybe, to differences in their characters, or maybe to the

fact that for the USA the dangers of war were practically less

than for Britain, Roosevelt at this time devoted more

thought to such matters than did Churchill. The British

Premier gave most of his attention, so far, to military op-

erations. Britain was obliged to employ its forces and re-

sources, which were not vast, in theatres of war scattered all

over the globe. Many important issues of foreign policy

} Churchill settled himself to the great but well-concealed

annoyance of Eden, leaving the Foreign Secretary to deal

with those matters which concerned the future peace settle-

ment; but as victory came nearer he began to obtrude him-

self more and more into that sphere too.

As we are told by the historian Woodward, who has made

i a thorough study of Foreign Office war-year documents, the

British Government and the Foreign Office began to think

and plan for the post-war peace as soon as they were relieved

of the necessity of occupying themselves with what might

be termed “the diplomacy of survival”. By the end of 1942

already Eden had prepared and presented to the Cabinet a

| number of proposals on the post-war peace settlement. It

was to be his task to map out ways of finding agreed posi-

| tions with the USA and the USSR. And that was a matter of

supreme difficulty.

As Woodward rightly states, the three leading, protago-

nists of the anti-Hitler coalition had a common political

aim—to win victory over the enemy, but “victory” was any-

| thing but a clear-cut concept. It meant one thing to the Unit-

ed States, another to Britain, and yet another to Russia.

The USSR was pursuing democratic, progressive aims, and

| intended to see them realised as fully as possible in the post-

} war peace. The United States and Britain had imperialist

| aims in mind, which arose from their social system, but the

} USA, for example, meant to realise them at the expense of

i Britain largely.

i British diplomacy was in a difficult position. The leading

/ lights of the Foreign Office realised perfectly well that the

i fruits of the approaching victory would be allocated accord-

ing to the respective strengths of the victors, and the bal-

ance of power was changing day by day, to Britain’s disad-

vantage. In the 20th century it is possible to compensate for

207

lack of might by diplomatic art only to a limited extent.

Eden and the other executauts of British foreign policy made

the most of what advantages they had, but time and the

march of events was against them.

They had to hurry to obtain in advance agreements deal-

ing with the future which would favour Britain. In Febru-

ary 1943 the British Prime Minister suggested to the Presi-

dent of the United States that Eden should go to Washington

to discuss post-war problems with his American colleagues.

Roosevelt agreed, and in March Eden arrived in the USA.

The President talked a lot with his guest from London in

the course of his 18-day visit, showing a preference for dis-

cussing the future of the world in an informal setting—at

dinner or tea. Also present on these occasions were Harry

Hopkins, the President’s confidential aide, and Secretary

of State Cordell Hull, who had a highly suspicious attitude

to all the doings of the British Government.

Eden’s biographers are fond of quoting a telegram which

Roosevelt sent to Churchill, in which the President informed

him that he had spent three evenings with Eden, that Antho-

ny was “a grand fellow’, and that they had reached agree-

ment on 99 per cent of the issues discussed. It is hardly sur-

prising that Roosevelt should have been favourably impressed

by Eden’s quiet, pleasant manners and his wide knowledge

of international relations. But so far as their full mutual

understanding was concerned, the remarks were politeness

only.

The documents give evidence of serious differences be-

tween the positions of the American President and the British

Foreign Secretary. Roosevelt was developing an idea of his

that the post-war world should be guided by four Powers—

the USA, Britain, the USSR and China. Eden objected. Bet-

ter to do without China, since it was not a Great Power (and

in Eden’s mind no doubt the main point here was that Chi-

na, in view of its dependence upon the USA, would follow

the Jead of the US rather than of Britain). What the visi-

tor said left his hosts with the impression that London would

cling obstinately to its Far Eastern possessions. When Roose-

velt remarked that it would be a great gesture if Britain

offered to give up its colony in Hongkong, Eden’s custom-

ary reserve deserted him. He replied that he had heard noth-

ing so far to indicate that the United States intended to

make any such gestures at the expense of its interests.

As regards the Soviet Union, Eden generously shared his

208

anti-Soviet thoughts with Roosevelt. It would be difficult

to deal with the USSR in the future, he said. In consequence,

it would be rash to rely upon the USSR taking a construc-

{ive part in the Big Four that was to govern the world, i.e.

after victory the fates of all humanity were to be ruled

by Britain and the USA.

Both sides had decided that Eden’s visit must be exploit-

ed as a demonstration of Anglo-American union and cooper-

ation. The visitor met prominent Americans: ex-President

Hoover, Presidential candidate Wendell Wilkie, Mayor of

New York La Guardia. In the capital of the state of Mary-

land, where Robert Eden had been Governor in colonial

times, a ceremonial meeting was held at which Eden made a

speech about his “American ancestors”, i.e. the English co-

lonial administrators who had onceruled the British colonies

in North America. From ancient history he passed on to con-

temporary times and the scene in London, where British and

American soldiers walked arm in arm, and said that upon

their friendship depended the future of humanity. Still the

same idea, of the Anglo-American duumvirate ruling the

world. Those present stormily expressed their friendly feel-

ings for Eden, and the House of Representatives of Mary-

land passed a resolution of greetings to the brave British ally

of the United States.

Eden’s reception had been demonstratively warm, but he

came back from the USA with the conviction that the Amer-

ican Government meant to see Britain deprived of its colo-

nial positions, and to get removed the preferential tariffs

which protected the British Empire from an influx of goods

from third countries.

The nearer the end of the war came, the sharper became the

contradictions between the Western allies. In February 1944

Churchill sent Eden a letter in which he listed the formidable

questions on which difficulty might arise with the USA:

oil, dollar balances, shipping, policy to France, Italy, Spain,

the Balkans, etc. An impressive list of the clash of inter-

ests between two imperialist powers drawn up by a compe-

tent person.

But the contradictions between the participants in the

anti-Hitler coalition were pushed into the background by the

pressure of the main task—to ensure victory over Germany,

Italy, Japan and their allies. 1t was this which provided the

subject-matter for numerous meetings of the Big Three,

which foreign ministers attended as well as heads of govern-

14-01222 209

ment, and for similar meetings of foreign ministers only.

The British side was insistent, and their instances were

largely successful, that these Big Three meetings should

be preceded by bilateral meetings at which British and US

representatives worked out agreed decisions on Lhe questions

to be discussed. This meant that in the final stage they acted

on a preconcerted plan and used their united efforts in an at-

tempt to force the outcome they wanted upon the USSR.

It was one more way of bringing pressure to bear upon the So-

viet Government.

Making the best use, in British interests, of their position

as ally of both the USA and the USSR was probably the

main, though certainly not the only, task occupying Eden’s

department. The war had assumed global proportions, and

there were British interests in all quarters of the globe. Eden

had to exert enormous strength and power of self-contro! in

his relations with General de Gaulle, who headed ‘The Fight-

ing France and was unwilling to admit any collaboration

with Britain which might damage French interests. The war

in the Pacific and in Asia, though primarily the concern of

America, posed many problems for the Foreign Office too.

London was the site of many emigre governments from coun-

tries temporarily seized by Germany. The Foreign Office

cultivated them tenderly, hoping that after victory they

would provide the nucleus for the reactionary regimes which

the Foreign Office wanted to see restored in their respective

countries. The situation in Latin America was changing rap-

idly, and asharp eye had to be kept on things in order to en-

sure that British interests should not suffer too much.

There were many matters to cope with, they all grew pro-

gressively more complicated and harder to solve. As the war

efforts of the USSR and the USA developed, the influence

of Britain in the anti-Hitler coalition grew less and less,

although the advance of this process was masked by the loud

and demonstrative activity displayed by London.

Eden was obliged to travel a great deal. The imperfec-

tions of aircraft in those days, weather conditions which were

often bad, long roundabout routes (since the war had closed

the direct ones)—all this meant a heavy physical strain on

Eden, whose health had never been strong. There were mo-

ments of danger, too, during these numerous journeys.

Once Churchill and Kden were returning to England via

North Africa and Gibraltar. German intelligence knew of it,

and set up a watch on Lisbon airport. As a rule the Germans

210

did not touch planes flying between Lisbon and London. But

this time their agents observed a stout, stooping man with

an enormous cigar joining one plane. As soon as it took off it

was promptly shot down. All 13 passengers perished, includ-

ing one man who bore a close physical resemblance to Chur-

chill, It was this resemblance which had distracted the atten-

tion of the German agents from the plane in which Churchill

and Eden returned safely to London.

In London, Eden actually lived during the war years in

the Foreign Office building. In the very early days of the

war Churchill had developed a passion for working at nights,

and he insisted that a flat should be fitted up for Halifax at

the Foreign Office because he wanted his Foreign Secretary

always available. Now it was Anthony Eden who lived in

the four-roomed flat on the top floor. His office had many tel-

ephones with direct lines to the Prime Minister and the

Chiefs of Staff (with anti-bugging devices fitted). Beatrice did

her best to improve the appearance of the “official issue”

flat with pictures and flowers.

True, the Edens did not spend much time together as a

family. The Foreign Secretary was often on his travels, and

his wife, a tirelessly energetic woman, had plunged whole-

heartedly into charitable work for the armed forces. She orga-

nised a mobile canteen and travelled with it to different army

camps, mainly in the south of England. Beatrice was a brave

woman and put up with the trials of wartime stoutly and

cheerfully, and with unfailing humour. But her relations

with Anthony showed a more and more distinguishable

coolness.

From time to time they would get a weekend free, and

spend it in a small country house, Binderton, near Chiches-

ter. The study there was furnished with antiques. The walls

were covered in bookshelves full of beautifully bound vol-

umes, among them a collection of books on Persia. They in-

cluded some outstandingly fine works presented to him by

the fabulously rich Aga Khan. Among the pictures (and Eden

was very fond of paintings and collected them whenever he

could) were a dozen or so watercolours painted by his father,

and one landscape of his own, done near the French town of

Arles.

In the master of Binderton it was hard to recognise the

carefully groomed, elegantly dressed Foreign Secretary. Here

Kden was transformed. The minute he reached his country

home he changed into wide flannel trousers and a well-worn

14* 241

sports jacket. In this attire he gardened, went for walks and

received guests. All his life Eden loved gardening: he was

considered something of an expert.

The Edens liked having people to slay. Their guests would

usually be a small party only. From time to time Cranborne

and his wife would come down—he and Eden were linked

hy many years of friendship and working together (they had

both resigned at the same time in 1938), and by community

of views. Eden’s former P. P. S., Thomas, would also come

to stay. And one always welcome guest was Ernest Bevin,

the Labour Cabinet Minister, for whom Eden had the most

profound admiration. It is hard to see what there could be

in common between these two, so different in origins, upbring-

ing, education, social standing, occupation and behaviour.

True, they both had passionate feelings of love for and pride

in Britain’s imperial majesty, and equally passionate ha-

tred of all that threatened that majesty and power.

The US Ambassador, John Winant, came to Binderton

quite often. The impression of personal friendship and respect

between the two was sedulously fostered. It would be wrong

to exclude the possibility that these did exist, but it is be-

yond doubt that they hardly provided the main motive for

these visits. The principal factor here was the interest of

state affairs, political considerations.

Binderton did not give Eden a refuge from his work. He

had his official telephone, on which even secret and confiden-

tial matters might be discussed; messengers arrived regular-

ly to hand over despatch boxes of official documents.

From time to time the Edens would make their appear-

ance at major social functions. “They looked such a happy

couple,” writes Bardens, referring to late 1944. “But in fact

they were drifting apart, and had been doing so for a long

time. Their tastes had never been very similar, and now their

war work demanding the bulk of their time, left them less

and less time together.” This is scarcely an exhaustive ex-

planation of what was happening in the Eden family. And an

outside person can hardly say with certainty what does hap-

pen in such cases. But the fact remains that as soon as France

was liberated, Beatrice to all intents and purposes moved

to Paris. She took charge of a canteen for British army per-

sonnel that was set up in the Grand Hotel.

At the very end of the war Eden suffered a double bereave-

ment. His elder son Simon, a R. A. F. pilot, crashed in

Burma when his plane hit the side of a mountain. In June

212

Lord Moran wrote in his diary: “The P. M. asked me to dine

with him and the Edens. Ife warned me that Anthony had

just had a telegram to say that his boy, who was missing,

had been found dead by the wreckage of his plane. During

dinner nothing was said of this. They talked until nearly

midnight as if nothing had happened. I wondered if I could

have behaved with the same quiet dignity immediately af-

ter hearing that my John had been killed.”

And in June 1945 Eden’s mother, Sybil, died. This was a

great loss for him—Lady Eden had always been proud of

her son and had had great faith in bis fortunate star.

That star was still in the ascendant. Churchill favoured

him, considering him as his closest associate and helper.

When Eden fell ill in the spring of 1944, Churchill had told

him: “You are my right arm; we must take care of you.”

The historians say that they enjoyed a remarkable relation-

ship of mutual trust and admiration, despite the difference

in their ages. Churchill bears witness to their unity of

views on many questions.

In June 1942, before Churchill left for one of his visits

to the USA, he sent King George VI a letter saying: “In

the case of my death on this journey I am about to undertake,

I avail myself of Your Majesty’s gracious permission to

advise you that you should entrust the formation of a new

Government to Mr. Anthony Eden, the Secretary of State

for Foreign Affairs, who is inmy mind the outstanding Min-

ister in the largest political’party in the House of Commons

and inthe National Government over which I have the hon-

our to preside, and who, I am sure, will be found capable of

conducting Your Majesty’s affairs with the resolution, expe-

rience and capacity which these grievous times require.”

This is something without precedent in English history.

Thus it was stated officially that Eden should be Churchill’s

heir and successor as Prime Minister and leader of the Con-

servative Party. There can be no doubt that this “testament”

of Churchill’s demonstrated his profound faith in Eden and

affection for him.

Churchill’s favour was of course very pleasing to Eden.

But he had a hard time of it with the old man, who hada

despotic character and a brusque Jack of ceremony in his man-

ners. Eden found particularly painful his constant inter-

ference in diplomatic matters. Cliurehill would from

time to time send highly important telegrains to Roosevelt

and Stalin without so much as a by your leave to the Foreign

213

Secretary and Foreign Office. It happened particularly often

in his correspondence with the US President. At times when

Eden was away, the Prime Minister was officially in charge

of his department, and this made it easier for him to inter-

vene in current diplomatic activity. Lord Moran, who was

Churchill’s personal physician and knew a great deal about

what went on within the government in the war years and af-

ter, says that the Foreign Secretary “hated Winston's habit

of taking over his job”. In December 1944 Eden said to

Moran: “I do wish he’d let me do my own job.”

The Foreign Secretary was devoting his main attention,

as previously, to the problems of the post-war settlement.

British politicians saw the future world order of peace, to use

Broad’s expression, as “one village street from Edinburgh

to Chungking”. Now Britain was supporting the idea of a

system of blocs, presented to the Allies and to world public

opinion as a means of ensuring the peace, but which would in

reality serve to shield Britain in the struggle against the

USSR and the USA. Britain must “be prepared to assume.

the burdens of leadership”.

The Foreign Office was looking at the possibilities of creat-

ing two confederations: one in Central Europe and the oth-

er in South-Eastern Europe, covering the states lying be-

tween Germany and Italy on the one side and Russia and Tur-

key on the other. By and large this was an old idea, with two

aspects: a) the creation of a cordon sanitaire around the

USSR, which would block it by a chain of countries hostile

to it from the Baltic to the Black Sea, a cordon led by Brit-

ain; and b) the securing of Britain’s leading role in Europe.

The plans cherished by Churchill and Eden envisaged

keeping both the USSR and the USA out of European affairs.

Britain intended to use every means at her disposal to de-

fend her Empire and her external economic positions from

encroachments by the United States of America. In Washing-

ton they were well aware of this mood.

London also made it quite clear where it stood on the ques-

tion of post-war Germany. To begin with, the British and

United States Governments were in favour of dismembering

Germany. But before long they changed their position.

As victory came nearer, the British leaders placed more

and more hopes on the Germany of the future. Field-

Marshal Alanbrooke, Chief of the Imperial General Staff,

noted in his diary on July 27, 1944: “An hour with Secretary

of State discussing post-war policy in Europe. Should Ger-

214

He REO rt NS It

many be dismembered or gradually converted to an ally to

meet the Russian threat?... Foster Germany, gradually build

her up and bring her into a Federation of Western Europe.”

This was the policy favoured by Eden, Churchill and the

entire Cabinet. It entirely suited the British ruling circles.

But the working masses had other wishes. The majority of

the British people felt a deep gratitude to the Russians for

their heroic struggle against Hitler, and did not want a

severance of the war-time alliance after victory. This was why

the British Government was careful to keep its plans secret

from the people.

On April 12, 1945, Franklin Roosevelt died, and Harry

Truman became President of the United States; he was a

man who did not agree with Roosevelt, and was hostile to

the Soviet Union. Eden was delighted with the new Presi-

dent, with whom he had a long conversation on the “Russian

danger”, when he stopped off in Washington on his way to

the San Francisco Conference of 1945.

It was al this conference that the United Nations Organi-

salion was established. The British concept of regional blocs

and alliances, formed under the aegis of Britain, ran counter

to the idea of founding an international organisation for

maintaining peace in which the leading members of the anti-

Hitler coalition would participate on a basis of equality.

Since the Crimea Conference of 1945, when Churchill and

\Sden had to concede to the principle of unanimity of the

permanent members of the Security Council in the United

Nations-to-be (which made it harder to use the organisation

against the USSR), their interest in the creation of such an

organisation had fallen off sharply.

Eden, who headed the British delegation at the San Fran-

cisco Conference, used the Australian Minister of External

Affairs, Herbert Evatt, asa mouthpiece in an attempt to get

the unanimity principle of the permanent members of the

Security Council watered down, but without success. The

Charter of the United Nations was eventually agreed and

signed. The British Government had to agree to the estab-

lishment of the United Nations, but it continued, as before,

to work for dominance of the Anglo-American bloc in the

post-war world.

The Soviet Union had proposed including in the United

Nations Charter the principle that independence must be

the ultimate aim for the peoples of colonies. But the resistance

put up by imperialist countries led to a compromise for-

245

mulation being adopted. The members of the British dele-

gation (primarily Fden and Cranborne) fought especially

hard to prevent the inclusion in the Charter of statements

which would stimulate the liberation struggle of the colonial

peoples.

Eden’s attitude to any revolutionary liberation processes

was negative. But he, belonging to a younger generation than

Churchill, had shown some sympathy—short-lived and in-

consistent—for the searchings of the “young Conservatives”

who displayed interest in a planned economy as a means

of overcoming the economic chaos of the capitalist system

and who talked of reforms which might to some extent calm

the seething working-class Britain. Between the mid-thir-

ties, the period of the “young Conservatives” greatest activ-

itv, and the mid-forties, the interest shown in economic

and social problems by Eden, Macmillan and other “young

men” had to a large extent evaporated. They were, though,

very alarmed by the possibility of socialist revolution de-

veloping in the aftermath of the Second World War. They

recalled very clearly the revolutionary consequences of the

First World War, and therefore, from time to time, Eden

played up to the British workers. Besides his own appre-

hensions, a factor here was the frequent mention that had

been made by President Roosevelt of the social “freedoms”

which were to be ensured after the war.

Addressing a meeting of miners in Merthyr Tydfil, Eden

assured his hearers that there would be no return to the past

pre-war situation, he spoke as though it had not been his

party, and not the government of which he had been a mem-

ber, that bore the responsibility for the grim state of affairs

for working people. Echoing Roosevelt, Eden asserted:

“Social security must be the first object of our policy after

the war, and social security will be our policy abroad no

less than at home. The free nations of America, the Domin-

ions and ourselves ... have the will and the intention to

evolve a post-war order.” A very typical Eden formulation,

capable of the most different interpretations! The British

workers were to understand that “social security” meant the

creation for them of socially just conditions of life. Eden

meant them to understand him in that sense, but he himself

clearly did not intend to pursue that aim. And the refer-

ence to “social security” as a principle of foreign policy

pursued the same aim for working people in other lands, and

was made with the same degree of sincerity.

216

‘

Throughout the entire course of the war the British Gov-

ernment structured its policy and strategy in such a way

as to ensure the preservation in Europe of pre-war reac-

tionary regimes, and under no circumstances to permit of

their being replaced by more progressive ones. But this was

difficult, and in some cases impossible. Revolutionary forces

in the countries liberated from the fascist yoke grew greater

and stronger, and nothing but direct military counter-revo-

lution could prevent them taking power into their own

hands.

Neither Churchill nor Eden had the slightest hesitation

in using British divisions to disarm their own recent allies—

those who had taken part in the Resistance movement against

the fascist forces of occupation, a movement which had

gathered together under its banners all the most progres-

sive and patriotic elements in the countries of Europe.

It happened in Belgium. It happened in Greece. And when

the Greek people resisted the attempt to foist upon them

a reactionary, hopelessly discredited pro-British govern-

ment, armed intervention was used against them. In De-

cember 1944, at Christmas time, Churchill and Eden went to

Athens, to take the lead on the spot in organising the sup-

pression of the Greek people’s aspirations to freedom.

This counter-revolutionary violence and betrayal of the

Greek Resistance fighters—who were Britain’s allies—

produced an outburst of indignation in world public opinion

and within Britain herself. This had its reflection in Parlia-

ment. Eden rushed to defend government policy with all

the fire of which he was capable. He told an indignant Brit-

ish public and a worried House of Commons that, as far as

events in Greece were concerned, “I have had some experience

in my life of international affairs and I have never known an

issue where I have been more absolutely certain we are right...

That is my absolute conviction.” As history was to show, the

“rightness” of the British Government was to mean, for

the people of Greece, many years of intervention and bloody

civil war.

By the end of 1944, as the Canadian historian G. Kolko

notes, Britain and the USA intervened in the internal affairs

of all the major countries of Western Europe in order to

restrain the left forces. They were able to do this in France,

in Belgium, in Italy, in Greece—in all the places reached

by their troops. But they were powerless to exert their

counter-revolutionary influence on the development of

217

those European countries which had been liberated by So-

viet troops.

In Churchill’s Memoirs and in Eden’s, and in the books of

English and non-English bourgeois historians, a great deal

of space is devoted to British policy in Poland, Hungary,

Romania and Bulgaria. And here we have attempts to delude

the reader by befogging the essence of the events with end-

less details of diplomatic negotiations. But the essence has

now been established most precisely. It is this—that con-

trary to inter-Allied agreements, including those signed in

the Crimea and at Potsdam, Britain and the USA attempted

to set up under their own aegis a belt of states hostile to

the Soviet Union. Their means of achieving this end was to

be the imposition on the peoples of the Eastern European

countries of extremely reactionary governments, those

which had been in power before the war and had brought

their own countries to national catastrophe. These reaction-

ary intentions were of course modestly veiled by the usual

declarations of concern for freedom and democracy. The

example of Greece showed in actual fact the meaning which

Eden, Churchill, etc., gave to these concepts, and it was

far from true freedom and democracy.

Anti-communists talk, regardless of facts, of the export

of socialist revolution by the Soviet Union to European coun-

tries. These assertions are meant to deceive the trusting.

It is a well-known fact that revolution cannot be brought

in from outside, that it is the due result of a country’s in-

ternal development. Bourgeois historians, who have tried

to study the history of post-war Europe objectively, have

come to the same conclusion.

Of course the USSR afforded immense assistance to the

development of socialist revolution in Europe and in Asia.

This assistance consisted in that it was by the USSR’s

efforts primarily that fascism was crushed.;The Soviet

Union fulfilled its internationalist duty and prevented Brit-

ish and American armed intervention in countries where

the peoples had set revolutionary changes in motion. The

progressive British journal Labour Monthly, reviewing

Gabriel Kolko’s The Politics of War, summarises his main

conclusion as follows: “Wherever the Soviet Union was able

to ‘hold the ring’, i.e. to prevent Western intervention,

social revolution has triumphed, and has developed onwards

to socialism. Similar development has been prevented else-

where only by armed intervention, or the threat of armed

218

intervention, on the part of Britain or the United States.”

The first half of 1945 was marked by an increase in the

British Government’s hostility to the USSR. This was the

period of the Soviet Union’s military triumph, and of mount-

ing social revolution in Europe. Churchill at this time was, in

his own words, ready to “go to the verge of war with Russia”.

In July 1945 Eden formulated his own attitude to the

USSR, in a note to Churchill, as follows: “At previous meet-

ings such as Tehran and Yalta we have met in the knowledge

that Russia was bearing a heavy burden in this war, and

that her casualties and the devastation of her country were

worse than anything that we or Americans were suffering.

But now all this is over. Russia is not losing a man at the

present time.”

This speaks volumes. It shows that while hostilities lasted

the British Government was obliged to take the interests of

the Soviet Union into account, because victory was being

bought at the price of much Soviet blood. But then, when

victory was secure, there was no longer any need to stand

upon ceremony with the Soviet Union.

Some British historians note that at this time Eden’s

attitude to the Soviet Union wasif anything even more hostile

than Churchill’s. David Dilks quotes a minute of March

1945, from Eden, in which he says that “a breakdown [with

the USSR—V.T.] seems inevitable”.

What infuriated Eden and Churchill was the fact that

they had no power to control the Soviet Union. On June (1,

1945, Cadogan recorded: “Cabinet at 5.30... P.M. looks rather

pale, and indulged in a long monologue in a depressed un-

dertone—all about the menace of Russia... Quite obvious

but nothing to be done about it.”

At the time of the Berlin Conference, however, a ray of

hope seemed to appear before the British leaders. On July 17

Truman informed Churchill that the first atomic bomb had

been exploded near Alamogordo in New Mexico. Churchill

was delighted beyond description: at last there was some-

thing wherewith to restrain those Russians! On July 23 Chur-

chiJl’s doctor, Lord Moran, noted what he had to say on

the subject: “We put the Americans on the bomb. We fired

them by suggesting that it could be used in this war. We

have an agreement with them. It gives the Americans the

power to mould the world... If the Russians had got it, it

would have been the end of civilisation... lt has just come

in time to save the world.”

219

It soon appeared how wrong the enthusing Prime Minis-

ter was. Firstly, the American atomic bomb was not able

to repress the revolutionary processes after the Second World |

War. Secondly, the USA was not able to determine, with

the aid of the bomb, the fate of the world. Thirdly, in spite

of their “agreement”, the Americans did not share the secret

of atomic bomb production with Britain. But it took several |

years for all this to transpire.

Meanwhile, in Potsdam, the need was to intimidate the

Soviet delegation so as to get some immediate benefit from |

the making of the bomb. The expectation was that the news |

of this new weapon would make a powerful impression on

the Soviet leaders, that the latter would at once ask to be ©

given the secret of its production and would be prepared to 7

go in for a lot in order to get it and also because of their fear

before this new, terrific weapon. Eden’s Memoirs state:

“On the question of when Stalin was to be told, it was agreed

that President Truman should do this after the conclusion +

of one of our meetings. He did so on July 24th, so briefly |

that Mr. Churchill and 1, who were covertly watching, had

some doubts whether Stalin had taken it in. His response

was a nod of the head and a brief ‘Thank you’. No comment.”

Eden’s account of this scene is basically correct. According ©

to the recollections of V. N. Pavlov, who was the interpreter |

on this occasion, Stalin merely nodded slightly, and no

“Thank you” was uttered. Eden was not the only one who

was left wondering whether Stalin had understood the point

of what Truman had told him. Many Western politicians

and historians had gone on wondering. And quite in vain.

The Soviet leadership had known since the autumn of 1942

of the existing potential for the production of nuclear weap-

ons; they knew the nature of those weapons; they knew it,

and drew the necessary conclusions. In the autumn of 1942, ©

during a lull in the fighting, a Junior Lieutenant-Techni-

cian called Georgy Nikolayevich Flerov had sent a letter to

the State Defence Committee informing them of the theoret-

ical possibility of Germany producing an atomic bomb, and

drawing the attention of the USSR’s top leadership to the

matter. On reading G. N. Flerov’s letter, J. V. Stalin sent

for Academicians A. F. loffe and V. I. Vernadsky, whose

scientific interests were cognate to the subject. They were

called on to say whether the Germans could prepare a ura-

nium bomb, and what they thought about the cessation of

open publication in the West of work concerning uranium. |

220

A. F. Ioffe later related that J. V. Stalin was indignant be-

cause a Junior Lieutenant at the front had been able to per-

ceive the danger to the country this represented, but they,

the academicians, had not.

During the Berlin Conference Churchill and Eden suffered

a violent and unexpected blow—the Conservative Party

lost a General Election. In the spring of 1945, with the war

against Germany ended, the Conservative leaders had to

do something about Parliament. The existing one had been

elected in 1935, owing to the war it had continued to func-

tion for twice the usual term, and now the election must be

held. There was a choice between whether to hold it im-

mediately or to postpone it until the war with Japan was

over, which was expected to be at the end of the year. Dis-

cussing the matter with Eden, Churchill sent a telegram to

him when he was in San Francisco, saying that the Conser-

vatives preferred a June election “allhough the Russian

peril, which I regard as enormous, could be better faced”

if the coalition with the Labour Party were preserved intact.

Eden came out against retaining the coalition, and in favour

of holding the election in June, for in October, he said, there

might advance “an even more dangerous period in interna-

tional affairs than now and increased chances of a Socialist

victory”.

Shortly afterwards the Labour Party left the coalition.

Churchill formed a caretaker government to serve until

after the election, with Conservative Ministers only. Dilks

tells us how Churchill, in tears, thanked members of the

dissolving coalition for all they had done, and added: “If

ever such another mortal danger threatened [evidently

he was, as Dilks suggests, thinking of Russia—V.7.], I am

sure we should all do the same again.”

The Conservatives went into the election without any

clear-cut programme. They thought the electorate would

vote for them in gratitude to Churchill, the great war lead-

er. Churchill himself did not for a moment consider it

possible that his party might not win. Eden probably also

believed in their victory, although in the Memoirs he wrote

30 years later he said that he had had doubts about it.

In May, when Eden came back from San Francisco, the

doctors found him to be suffering from a duodenal ulcer,

and prescribed six weeks in bed. That meant that he could

not take part in the election campaign. Beatrice spoke at

meetings in her husband’s place.

224

Eden, sick in bed at Binderton, delivered his election’

speech over the radio. It was the only one he made during

the run-up to the election. It differed from Churchill’s’

speeches in its calmer tone. Eden countered Labour's as-

sertions that they would be better than the Conservatives’

at maintaining good relations with the Soviet Union by

arguments in favour of strengthening links with the United!

States, which the Conservatives would do better than La-

bour could. Eden spoke of the economic successes of the USA”

and stressed that these were the fruits of free enterprise. |

This was to counter Labour’s case for nationalising a num- |

ber of industries.

Eden’s popularity was great, and he was returned a Mem-

ber of the House of Commons by an impressive majority. |

But his party had suffered a crushing defeat.

On August 1 Eden had dinner with Churchill; they dis-

cussed the election results and came to the conclusion that

there was “a strong leftward undertow” running in Britain.

How true.

Churchill resigned. On July 28 Eden, as a Minister retir-

ing from office, was given an audience by the King. A new

government was formed of Labour Ministers.

Even after many years had passed, Eden could not hide

how deeply he had felt this enforced retirement. “It is a

common happening,” he writes, “that those in power, as

their tenure of office continues, find themselves less and

less able to contemplate relinquishing it. The vows they

made earlier that they would give way to a younger man

when the years begin to blunt their faculties, when illness

begins to twist their judgement, these they choose to ignore.

Power has become a habit they cannot bear to cast off.”

Such was his own mood in the summer of 1945. Even the

need to take a good rest and regain his health did not soften

the blow.

soemitmeriatt

Chapter V

OPPOSITION: THE FIRST POST-WAR DECADE

The defeat of the Conservatives in the 1945 election and the

consequent departure from office of the Churchill Govern-

ment were of some positive value to both Eden and his party.

The dialectical force of the proverb “Every dark cloud has

a silver lining” was fully operative here.

For capitalist Britain the war had ended in a mixture of

triumph and tragedy. The triumph was the victory gained

over the most dangerous enemy the country had ever faced,

the tragedy was the “dramatic declension in British power”.

The expression is that used by a British Prime Minister,

Harold Macmillan.

British politicians and historians are fond of emphasising

that their country had come to the war’s end having made

heavy material sacrifices; in doing so they usually forget

to mention the Soviet Union’s contribution to victory.

This is how the same Macmillan depicts the price of victory:

in 1940 and 1941 Britain had opposed Germany single-

handed and Britain and the Empire had put into the field

a disproportionately large number of forces. As a result

“our enfeeblement, although masked, was real. Apart from

the strain upon our whole people involved in the long strug-

gle, we have effected a complete diversion of our economy to

war purposes... We had suffered the loss of £1,000 million of

our foreign assets; we had incurred an external debt of at

least £3,000 million. Our export trade had been largely

abandoned, and we had lost many of our best customers either

because of their own ruin or because of our inability to sup-

ply their needs. In the East, the victory over Japan ... had

failed to restore our old prestige.” The consequences of all

this were “to some extent revealed in the economic crises

which struck us one after another in the following years”.

In reality though the state of crisis in British industry

and trade in the post-war period was the result not only and

not so much of the consequences of the war, as of the processes

223

of the transformation—greatly accelerated by the war—

of the British economy, which for many decades had been

developing distorltedly, plundering and oppressing the colo-

nial peoples. When in 1945 the USA unceremoniously

stopped lend-lease{deliveries, Britain found she had a deficit

of £1,200 million per annum on her imports payments.

This catastrophic situation cannot be explained solely by

the war, it was something that British imperialism had

been logically, inevitably coming to, by virtue of its colo-

nial character.

The politicians and ideologists prefer to say nothing about

the most grievous consequences of the war for Britain. They

were of a political nature, and foremost among them was the

triumph of socialism, the strengthening of its positions.

This found expression, firstly, in the fact that the Soviet

Union, far from having disappeared from the face of the

earth, as the strategists of the bourgeois world had expected,

had strengthened its military and political positions im-

mensely. Its role in the world was by the end of the war (and

this infuriated the London politicians) much more con-

siderable than that of Britain.

Secondly, in Europe and in Asia the socialist revolution

that had long been building up came to fruition, a socialist

system emerged, which meant a radical change in the polit-

ical balance in favour of socialism, not only in those con-

tinents but world-wide. The field for British imperialism

had narrowed.

Thirdly, in the countries of Western Europe a revolution-

ary situation evolved, pregnant with the victory of social-

ist revolution. British imperialism found itself facing

the possibility of a socialist system being established in

Weslern Europe, and the ruling circles of Britain were none

too certain that it might not spread to Britain itself. This

admission by one of Eden’s biographers, Campbell-Johnson,

is significant: “It is quite possible that in the prevailing

mood of demobilisation and of self-doubt in the West the

whole of Europe [my italics—\V.T.] might have seceded to

communism by constitutional process.” It should be noted

that in speaking of the possibility of socialism being estab-

lished by the popular election of relevantly composed leg-

islative bodies, the author makes no exception for Britain.

Indeed, he considers that under certain conditions the Par-

liament elected in 1945 might have functioned in this direc-

tion. In it the Labour Party had an overwhelming majority

224

over the other parties and it could therefore have effected

far-reaching transformations constitutionally.

Fourthly, a new stage in the national liberation revolution

was beginning, which was soon to shatter totally the British

colonial empire, the biggest of all imperialist colonial do-

mains. Since the colonial factor had played a huge part in

the formation of British capitalism, the blow which the

national liberation movement struck against capitalist

Britain was especially heavy.

The ruling circles of that country, despite all their polit-

ical experience, did not in 1945 fully realise the dangers

threatening them. With considerable naiveté they imagined

that they would be able to cope with the many difficulties

facing them in this situation.

The result of the General Election of 1945 obliged Chur-

chill to resign as soon as it was announced. Churchill used

his prerogative as a retiring Premier to advise King George VI

to “send for Attlee”. The Labour leader was duly sum-

moned to Buckingham Palace to “kiss hands’, i.e, to be

empowered to form a government.

The Conservative Disraeli, a major figure of the 19th cen-

tury, wrote that “there are few positions less inspiriting

than those of a discomfited party”. It applies to the lead-

ers of the party too: Churchill-Eden. The psychological

shock of the electoral disaster was too great altogether. The

bewilderment of the Tory leaders was beyond doubt. They

could not decide in their own minds whether power had gone

to the Labour Party for a long term or whether the Conser-

vatives might succeed in getting it back in the foreseeable

future. Eden at this time had serious thoughts of accepting

the post of Secretary-General of the newly formed United

Nations Organisation. Thal would have meant he was giving

up his governmental career as finished.

Churchill, during his first year back in Opposition, was

also tormented by doubts as to his future. His situation

was worse than Eden’s. He was very much older—over

seventy. Churchill took his party’s electoral defeat much

harder than Eden. He was shaken to the depths of his soul

by the “black ingratitude” shown by his fellow-country-

men—for he considered that victory in the war had been

his own, personal triumph above all. He complained to his

personal physician, Lord Moran, that “victory has turned

to sackcloth and ashes”.

On top of this, there was dissatisfaction with Churchill

15-01222 225

a mong the upper echelons of the Conservative Party. Chew-

ing over the reasons for their defeat at the polls, the Tories

quite rightly blamed their aging leader for having contrib-

uted to that defeat by his unconcerned attitude: the Con-

servatives had confined themselves to criticising the Labour

Party and had not troubled to place a positive programme of

their own before the voters. There was unfavourable com-

ment also on Churchill’s autocratic manner, which he had

assumed towards his colleagues in the wartime Cabinet.

People do not take kindly to a position of superiority as-

sumed by another, especially when it is assumed quite cate-

gorically, as a self-evident fact.

The ex-Premier was in danger of being made a scapegoat.

But the Conservatives could not agree to this. Churchill

was their main political trump, he as it were redeemed the

culpability of the Conservative Party for the catastrophic

and discredited policy of Neville Chamberlain. So the mut-

terings against the Tory leader proved harmless. He went

off to Lake Como, then to a fashionable holiday resort in

Florida, and meditated on what to do next.

The doubts were over by the summer of 1946. Churchill de-

cided to go on as leader of the Conservatives, and to make a

fight for power. On June 27 he said to Moran: “A short time

ago I was ready to retire and die gracefully. Now I’m going

to stay and have them out.” So Churchill was still, as before,

leader of the Conservative Party and future Premier if they

were re-elected, and Eden was his deputy and official suc-

cessor in both posts.

The fact that the Conservative Party was in opposition

meant that Eden now had plenty of free time. He used it

to mend his health, to rest, travel, settle his personal affairs

and improve his finances. Previously he had had no business

interests, now he decided to make up for lost time. In October

1945 Eden was made a director of the Westminster Bank,

one of the biggest banks in the country. Due to a merger of

this bank with the Becketts’ family banking concern, Ru-

pert Beckett, Beatrice Eden’s uncle, was now the Chair-

man of its board of directors. Soon the ex-Foreign Secretary

was a director of the Westminster International Bank, of

the Phoenix Assurance Company, of Rio Tinto Zinc (a

company concerned with mining of non-ferrous metals),

etc., etc.

Eden was very useful to these companies, for as a former

Cabinet Minister he was party to a vast fund of information

226

that enabled him to give well-founded advice on future oper-

alions, especially those involving foreign countries.

Eden’s direct connections with financial and industrial

concerns, first made in 1945, proved firm and lasting, as

might have been expected.

Gradually everything settled down. In the Conservative

section within Parliament, in accordance with tradition

adhered to by the party, a leading group was formed con-

sisting, as usual, of former Ministers: the party leader and

his advisers. As long ago as 1929 the press took to calling

this group the Shadow Cabinet, and this name has become

firmly established as denoting the leading nucleus within

a party in Opposition. The members of the Shadow Cabinet

of this period—Eden, Butler, Macmillan, Stanley, Lyttle-

ton, Morrison, Crookshank, Winterton, Maxwell Fyfe,

Salisbury, Woolton, Swinton and some others—were allo-

cated spheres of activity to correspond to their experience

and interests.

Churchill, particularly at first, took little part in the

organisation of the Opposition’s activity in Parliament.

But as leader of the party he would invite the members of

the Shadow Cabinet to lunch with him about once a fort-

night (sometime much less frequently), at the Savoy--

Churchill loved pomp and circumstance.

The former Prime Minister now visited the House of

Commons only rarely, and did not often speak. The House

with the Front Bench occupied by Labour men in the full

panoply of power did not appeal to him. And thus the

everyday leadership of the Conservative group in Parlia-

ment devolved upon Anthony Eden. His position was made

more difficult by the echoes of Churchill’s thunderous war-

time oratory still rolling through the halls of Westmin-

ster. His hearers and readers naturally expected something

of the same sort from his successor. He had to operate in

Churchill’s shadow, and it was not easy.

He, unlike his patron, was not a good orator. His tact

and sensitivity would not have allowed him to attempt to

copy Churchill. Eden’s speeches of this period are what one

might call fair to middling efforts. Bardens says outright

that Iden’s speeches on home policy are unreadable. To the

end of his career Eden retained his fondness for the cliche,

the commonplace, the smoothly non-committal. Eden rare-

ly employed humour, and the attempts he did make to

enliven his speeches in that way were not very successful.

15* 227

Bardens tells us that Churchill frequently offered his favour-

ite lessons in oratorical art. He advised Eden to hold his

notes boldly in his hand and wave them about, and openly

cousult them when necessary, instead of peering furtively

at them as if ashamed of needing them. Churchill considered

he should follow his example and have special spectacles

made which would enable him to read notes from five feet

away. But all the advice was in vain.

Eden now had to deal not only with matters of foreign

policy but with complex and difficult economic and social

questions, and with problems of Empire. Eden was “heir

apparent”, so as possible future Prime Minister he was ob-

liged to show an understanding of all aspects of governmental

activity. The country had to be accustomed to seeing him

as a statesman of wide-ranging powers. Eden’s speeches in

the House of Commons therefore dealt with the most varied

questions: the nationalisation of the coal industry and of

power stations; shortages in the supplies of food, fuel, hous-

ing, petrol; trade union legislation; the rights of the House

of Lords and its imminent reform; university voting rights

in Parliamentary elections; the Budget; state control over

the economy; agriculture; education.

He did not find it easy. Many of these questions did not

interest him, but he had to speak on them as a future Prime

Minister. Eden put an immense amount of work into the

study of these problems alien to him and into the preparation

of his speeches on them. Once more it was apparent that the

struggle for power was something that demanded much la-

bour.

Some people believe that Eden had an easy life. One might

say that he had an interesting life, a very interesting one,

but easy is hardly the word for it. The lot of a modern

statesman, in spite of the numerous auxiliary staff at his dis-

posal, is far from easy. A heavy burden of responsibility for

affairs of state rests on his shoulders, he has to do an im-

mense amount of work. Eden worked for long hours every

day, sometimes working himself to the point of exhaus-

tion.

The stress had an adverse effect on his health. In spite of

his blooming appearance and athletic build, Eden could

not boast a healthy constitution. In childhood Anthony had

been frail and delicate. In the mid-thirties he had been se-

riously ill. At the very end of the war Eden once again fell

gravely ill. His health deteriorated to such an extent that

228

there were fears for his life. But the danger passed. In 1948,

however, Eden was in hospital again.

Naturally the question arose of whether his state of health

would allow him to act as head of the party and of the govern-

ment, should the need arise. He did all he could to calm any

fears on this score. On the day of his fifty-first birthday he

addressed a gathering of 7,000 Young Conservatives at the

Albert Hall, then went and played five hard sets of tennis

at his house near London, with some of the officers of a nearby

air base. This was of course reported in the press, and was

intended to re-assure those who read it that Eden’s physical

powers were not declining. But in actual fact all was not

quite so rosy.

Eden’s health was suffering from troubles in his family

life. He had scarcely had time to recover from his grief at

the death of his elder son Simon when another heavy blow

came upon him—in January 1947 his wife left him. Every-

thing points to the situation having been building up for a

long time previously. In December 1946, in the Christmas

season, Eden, accompanied by Beatrice and their younger

and only remaining son, Nicholas, who had just finished

his schooling at Eton, left for the USA on the luxury liner

Queen Elizabeth, intending to spend a holiday on the island

of Barbados. It was the last trip they were to take together.

When the liner docked at New York, Beatrice left her hus-

band for good. Nicholas tried to bring his parents together

again, but in vain. The marriage was over.

The reasons for this family disaster are not altogether

clear. Both parties took care to keep the true background of

the case hidden. Eden refused point-blank to give any expla-

nations whatever to the press. Beatrice found it harder to

escape the reporters, and her explanation was that their

life together had not been a success because she was not made

to be a statesman’s wife. The newspaper men were meant

to take this as indicating that she did not like his frequent

trips abroad and his constant preoccupation with the For-

eign Office.

It is hard to believe in this version. After all Beatrice

had known, when she married Eden, about his chosen field

of work. If one admits that at that time she had not realised

quite how alien to her the life-style of a politician would

be (which is quite possible), that still] does not explain why

it took twenty years and more for her to become fully aware

that the position of a Foreign Secretary’s wife was not for her.

229

Nicholas continued to live with his father, and they had

a warm and loving relationship. That was all that was left

to Eden of family life.

In April 1950 father and son, accompanied by Eden’s

Parliamentary Private Secretary and his wife, travelled

to Cannes for a holiday. A friend of Anthony’s, Lieutenant-

Colonel Alan Palmer of the Intelligence Service, had invit-

ed them to stay at his villa. Eden was depressed and could

find no heart even for his beloved tennis and swimming.

It was at this time that Eden set divorce proceedings on

foot, and on June 8, 1950, the court gave him his decree.

The hearing took only five minutes. Beatrice sent no one to

represent her, and Eden was the only witness called on his side.

As soon as the decision of the court was announced Eden

hastily left the building to make his escape from the pester-

ing newsmen.

In New York the journalists besieged Beatrice’s flat, but

they got little from her. Mrs. Eden again repeated to The

Daily Mirror man the same version as before: “I was never

fitted to be a politician’s wife.” Eden’s biographers have

taken this to be a hint that she did not consider him entirely

responsible for the break-up of their marriage. “I am good

friends with Mr. Eden,” Beatrice was quoted as saying,

“and admire him tremendously as a politician.” In all her

interviews she wished Anthony every success, and no one

doubted the sincerity of her words.

Dennis Bardens writes that Mrs. Eden was living “in a

small flat full of her paintings—like her former husband,

she is an enthusiastic and talented artist, and later in the

year (1950) she held an exhibition of her landscapes and

still-life paintings, in oils”.

In the second half of 1950 Beatrice flew to England to see

her son, who had been called up to do his National Service.

Here she was again under attack from the reporters. She

denied that she had any plans for re-marrying. This arose

because there were rumours that she might be contemplating

engagement to Dr. Robert Hedges, a gynaecologist whom

she had met in Bermuda in 1948. He had served in the Amer-

ican forces in Italy, and had the rank of Major. Hedges

was in his fifties, was fond of art and a good pianist, and

had a big private practice as well as a post in a large New

York hospital. The talk of a possible marriage between him

and Beatrice had started when his friends noticed a life-

size portrait of her in his flat.

230

There was another version also current. This had it that

Beatrice had met an American working for the State De-

partment and the US strategic services and had fallen in

love with him, and that this was the cause of her leaving

liden.

It should be noted though, that thanks to the restraint

observed on both sides in a difficult situation, the break-up

of Eden’s family had no untoward effect upon his position

in public life. The fact that he was the innocent party in

the case doubtless had its effect. The biographers deal with

this episode in Eden’s life in neutral terms.

Eden had always been fond of travel and now, when his

official, diplomatic journeyings were at an end, he still

continued to spend much time abroad. He was usually ac-

companied by his son; they had drawn even closer since

lis mother had gone, and they shared “a love of travel, of

strange sights and sounds, of tennis and gin rummy”.

In 1948 Eden went to Iran, and despite the fact that formal-

ly speaking he was now only a private citizen, he was re-

ceived semi-officially and with marked attention. Aware that

the position of the Anglo-Iranian Oil Company, which

was entirely British-owned and had a monopoly over Ira-

nian oil, was unstable, Eden made himself thoroughly ac-

quainted on the spot with its activities, inspecting the oil-

bearing districts of Khuzistan and the huge refinery at Aba-

dan. And everywhere he went he talked to the Iranians in

their own language. It is said that his Persian was fluent,

as he had kept up and improved the knowledge of the lan-

guage he had first gained at university.

Oil-rich areas continued to be the object of Kden’s inter-

est throughout the rest of this journey too. From Iran he

went on to the islands of Bahrain, where he was given a warm

welcome. The Sheikh presented him with an antique Arab

sword, richly wrought with gold and pearls, also a set of

costly Arab robes.

From Bahrain the travellers proceeded to Saudi Arabia

and enjoyed a pleasant holiday as guests of King Ibn Saud

at his capital of Riyadh. Sumptuous banquets in Arab style

were laid on in Eden’s honour. At one of these 12 sheep and

2 young camels were served. This exotic kind of entertain-

ment pleased the father and naturally greatly impressed the

son.

Here too Eden was the recipient of rich gifts. The King

gave him a gold watch and a jewelled dagger. Following

234

the custom of the East, the English guest enquired what

the King would like as a present in return. [bn Saud ex-

pressed a wish for a sporting gun. In London Eden had to

pay £220 for an appropriate one.

When the travellers returned to Britain, the customs men

were faced with a difficulty: were they to charge customs

duty on the gifts Eden had received, or not? The duty would

have amounted to a considerable sum. It was not the first

time Eden had brought such presents back from the Middle

East. During the war Churchill and Eden had met the King

of Saudi Arabia, and the latter had presented them with

a casket filled with precious stones. But the Exchequer had

promptly got its hands on that, declaring it to be an “of-

ficial gift” and therefore government property. The govern-

ment had paid for the return present to the King, which

was a Rolls-Royce. This precedent looked not too hopeful

for Eden. But this time, in 1948, everything was settled

amicably. The Customs let Eden’s gifts through duty-free

on the grounds that they were ceremonial gifts from the

head of a foreign state. He retained them as his personal

property.

The following year Eden went on an extended tour taking

in the various countries of the British Commonwealth.

The route followed was the same as that taken a quarter of

a century earlier, when he had acted as special correspondent

of the Yorkshire Post. Twenty-five years is a long time.

In that period Eden had made his political career and become

famous not only within Britain and the Commonwealth

but far beyond their bounds.

The post-war years had seen other changes in Britain’s

colonial empire besides the change of names: this was a pe-

riod of the break-up of the empire under the impact of na-

tional liberation revolution. During 1947-1948, the peoples

of Asia which had been under British rule gained their inde-

pendence. India, Pakistan, Ceylon and Burma set out upon

the road of independent development. It was clear that a

similar fate was in store for British possessions in the Middle

Kast also.

That was the situation when Eden started out on his tour.

His aims were by no means those of a tourist. He wanted to

convince himself from personal observation on the spot

whether the Commonwealth would survive in altered shape.

It was vitally necessary to be sure about this, for in those

years British ruling circles were of the opinion that Britain

232

seneneeestiee th nites tens ea

aes

could remain a Great Power only if it had the support of

the Commonwealth, without which it would become a sec-

ond-rate country.

Eden visited Canada, then New Zealand and Australia,

and on the return leg of the journey Malaya, India and Pak-

istan. In 70 days he covered a distance of 40 thousand miles.

As a senior statesman (though for the time being not in

office) Eden was received by the heads of the states concerned

aud spoke at many large gatherings, meetings and receptions.

Of course he also visited the colourful Eastern bazaars and

admired the exotic scenery.

The speeches which Eden made after his return to Britain,

summing up his impressions from the trip, are a model of

political hypocrisy. He referred to the “stable” links of the

British Commonwealth. And this after British colonial ad-

ministrators had had to clear out of India, Pakistan, Ceylon

and Burma; when the people of Malaya were carrying on a

fierce armed struggle against the colonialists; when Australia

and New Zealand had switched their orientation from Brit-

ain to the United States; when American capital was inex-

orably forcing its way into the Commonwealth countries

and weakening their economic links with London; when the

helplessness displayed by Britain during the war years in

the Pacific and in Asia, had reduced her prestige there to

the lowest possible ebb.

The tempo of political life speeded up considerably after

the Second World War, one event followed hard upon an-

other, the reaction of public opinion to the changes taking

place was much more rapid. In 1945 it had seemed as though

a period of stable Labour dominance in the country’s polit-

ical life had begun and that the Conservatives had been

banished to the side-lines for a long time to come; but two

or three years passed, and the situation was transformed.

It now became clear that electoral defeat had been a good

thing for Eden and for his party. It enabled the Conservatives

to avoid responsibility for a number of highly reactionary

steps taken by Britain in the early years after the war.

Throughout the period when the British Labour Govern-

ment under Attlee and Bevin was raising the banner of anti-

Sovietism and together with the imperialists of the USA

was hastily knocking up an anti-communist front, Churchill

and Eden were sitting on the Opposition benches, taking

no apparent part in government policy.

The fact that in 1945 right-wing Labour was on top and

233

able to form a government proved to be a great advantage for

British imperialism. In the turbulent post-war years the

Conservatives themselves could not have achieved a fraction

of what right-wing Labour did to save British imperialism.

Attlee’s Government was made up of men of undoubted

ability and energy, men who had been schooled in admin-

istering affairs of state under Churchill, since they had

taken part in the coalition government from May 1940 to

May 1945. Churchill and his associates trained up their La-

bour colleagues not only in the spirit of total loyalty to

British imperialism, but in unbounded hatred for socialist

and national liberation revolution, for the Soviet Union.

This is evidenced by the entire subsequent activity of mem-

bers of the Attlee Government.

Churchill gave his approval to all the appointments made

by Attlee with one exception. Or to be more precise, he

made sure that Attlee, who had intended to entrust the

Foreign Office to Hugh Dalton, changed his mind and ap-

pointed Ernest Bevin Foreign Secretary as Churchill and

Eden wanted.

At first glance Churchill’s choice may seem strange. Both

Dalton and Bevin had served in his own wartime govern-

ment. Dalton’s background was aristocratic, he had been

educated in establishments reserved for the privileged few,

he had a good knowledge of international relations and was

an erudite politician. Whereas Bevin’s education had gone

no farther than elementary school, and his career had been

made as a trade union official, rising from minor to “boss”

status and traversing (as often happens in Britain) from left

wing to the extreme right of Labour Party and trade union

leadership. From the point of view of Conservative interests,

Churchill was absolutely right to prefer Bevin to Dalton.

It was of much greater advantage to have the fight for Brit-

ish imperialist interests in the arena of foreign policy car-

ried through by someone who had come up from the dockside

working class, rather than by a bourgeois intellectual, al-

beit one belonging to the Labour Party. Added to which,

Bevin was distinguished by great obstinacy and will-power;

it was clear that his line in foreign policy would coincide

fully with the Conservative position, and as regarded hostil-

ity to the Soviet Union Bevin was probably more to be

relied on than Dalton.

Eden built up a relationship of close, though largely hid-

den from the public eye, collaboration with Bevin. On the

234

very day when the retiring Foreign Secretary went to Buck-

ingham Palace to hand in his seals to the monarch he had

a meeting with his successor, visiting the same place to

receive those same seals. They had a quick discussion on

the progress of the conference in Berlin, and Eden furnished

his Labour colleague with advice on how to resist Soviet

proposals concerning Poland.* “Bevin listened and said that

he would do his best,” records Eden in his Memoirs.

IIe also tells us: “Ernest and I had been good colleagues

during our years in the War Cabinet and often discussed

foreign affairs together. At that time I was closer to him

than to any other member of his party, and the friendship

between us lasted until his death.” Eden says that he him-

self was in complete agreement with the aims of Bevin’s

foreign policy, and with what he did. Like-minded, they

often met together. Bevin would invite Eden to his room in

the louse of Commons where they would have informal dis-

cussions of foreign policy matters. In Parliamentary debates

Eden would usually speak after Bevin, and support him.

“T would publicly have agreed with him more, if I had not

been anxious to embarrass lim less,” admits Eden. Meaning

that Labour opinion might have made use of praise coming

from a Conservative ex-Foreign Secretary in order to criti-

cise Bevin.

From the very beginning of the Labour Government's op-

eration it was obvious that Bevin was acting as Eden would

have acted. Oliver Stanley, a leading Conservative and

Chancellor of the Exchequer in the Shadow Cabinet, once

commented in a Parliamentary speech on this continuity

in foreign policy as follows. During the election campaign

the Labour Party proclaimed from the platforms that its

‘return would create a new world... Well, we have now had

a fortnight of the new world and certainly in the new world

there are still some familiar speeches... The Foreign Secre-

tary, in that splendid speech he made on Monday, which

was acclaimed in all parts of the House, made me wonder

whether in his spare time ... he had not been dipping into

that brilliant old play, The Importance of Being Anthony.”**

Bevin and Eden paid one another fulsome public compli-

ments, and made no secret of their mutual liking. In general

terms, they were united in their negative attitude to the

* Tt was the question of Poland’s Western frontiers.

** A play of words referring to Oscar Wilde’s The Importance of

Being Earnest.

235

revolutionary processes taking place throughout the world.

On the matter of particular questions of foreign policy,

Bevin’s convictions and standpoint were formed under the

influence of the Foreign Office apparatus, and primarily that

of the quiet but stubborn and insistent Permanent Under-

Secretary, Alexander Cadogan, and in latter years of his

successor Orme Sargent. It was these men who wrote all!

Bevin’s speeches.

Macmillan, who himself took over the Foreign Office

later, tells us in his Memoirs: “It is the practice of the For-

eign Office ... to serve the Secretary of State on the occasion

of a general discussion a long, elaborate but somewhat jejune

document composed in the most correct officialese and more

like a memorandum than a Parliamentary speech. Bevin

would read this out from start to finish, stumbling over the

difficult words but plodding on manfully, often regardless

of sense and punctuation.”

Bevin remained in charge of the Foreign Office until

March 9, 1951, when he had to resign. Five weeks later he

was dead. He was succeeded by a Labour colleague, Morri-

son. On July 25, 1951, Macmillan made this entry in his

diary: “A long and rather boring foreign affairs debate. Her-

bert Morrison read out the same ... sort of speech which the

F.O. boys used to write for Krnest Bevin.”

It is hardly surprising that Eden, during his years in

Opposition, showed no great zeal in polemicising with

the Labour Party. The Star wrote: “Mr. Anthony Eden is

disappointing the Tory die-hards. They had been looking

to him for a fighting lead, but he seems to be showing little

enthusiasm for the role of saboteur No. 1.”

During those years the main events in the life of the Con-

servative Party took place outside the walls of Parliament.

Eden played what may be called a leading part in them, but

the main motive force behind them was a small group of

comparatively young Conservatives, Eden’s contemporaries

and colleagues. Principal among these were Lord Woolton

and Butler. The members of this group had drawn a practical

conclusion from the Conservative defeat in the recent election;

their party needed a radical re-structuring, both organisa-:

tional and ideological, to make it capable of a contest with

the Labour Party for the votes of the electorate. The world

was changing rapidly, the situation of the country and the

problems facing it were being transformed. The voter too

was a different person now, with a better grasp of political

236

‘

allairs. The party required adjusting to all these changes.

The organisational re-structuring was carried through

under the direction of Lord Woolton. The way in which he

came to be concerned with this task is sufficiently surprising.

tle had been Food Minister in the Churchill Government,

hut was not a Conservative Party member. He considered

himself an Independent, and held mildly liberal views.

\Woolton became a member of the Conservative Party on the

day when its electoral defeat was announced. And straight

away he set about re-structuring it. In 1946 he was formally

made Chairman of the party.

“Woolton,” writes Macmillan, “was not only a great orga-

niser, but he was also the best salesman that I have ever

known.” Woolton approached the re-structuring of the party

like a true businessman—it had to be done in such a way

that il could “sell” the voter the “goods” which the Conser-

yatives had on offer, and take his vote. The “goods”, of course,

had to be made to suil the voters’ tastes as far as possible,

and their Conservative contents must above all be presented

altractively packaged.

Woolton spent time searching for a new name for the

party, one that would cancel out the advantage of the La-

bour Party, which called itself “Socialist”. He wanted the

Conservatives to become the “Union Party”. The Conserva-

tive Party, wrote Woolton, must represent “unity of the

Iimpire, the essential unity between the Crown, the Govern-

ment, and the people, embracing the idea ... that we dislike

class conflict almost as much as we dislike either ... vague

internationalism ... or the foreign creeds of Marxian So-

cialism or Russian Communism”. Here we have the desire

to retain the old, imperial colonialism and the monarchy,

and the denial of class conflict, and unconditional hostility

to proletarian internationalism, socialism and communism.

Particular effort was put into showing the Conservatives

as the party which represented the interests not of a single

class but of the whole nation, including the working people.

The method of selecting the party’s Parliamentary candi-

dates was changed. While previously local Conservative

bodies had nominated people who were ready to donate

maximally high sums to party funds (sometimes as much as

£1,000 a year), now the rule was to be that a candidate should

contribute to election funds no more than £25 p.a., and a

\lember of Parliament not more than £50 p.a. All electoral

expenses were to be paid for out of party funds.

237

Energetic measures were taken to strengthen local party

organisations. Full-time agents were appointed, with a good

salary and pension arrangements. At the same time, the

use made of volunteer activists was expanded, people who

would act as permanent proselytisers for the party. The

centre of gravity in propaganda work was shifted from the

big occasions—meetings, bazaars, etc.—to individual work

with individual voters. This was to be in the voter’s own

home. As Macmillan writes: “This technique, which he sub-

sequently called ‘Operation Door-Knocker’, became a fun-

damental part of the new Conservative approach to the elec-

tors.” The party representative's knock on the voter’s door

was to be heard the length and breadth of Britain, and the

main mass of voters started to get their regular dose of

Conservative propaganda, administered by someone they

came to know in the course of personal conversation. With

an eye to the psychology of the average Briton, Woolton

organised the selling of the Conservative “goods” on the

same lines as the promotion by doorstep salesmen of refrig-

erators or washing machines. Politics had become business

even in outward form, but it was done in such a way that

that observation should not occur to the mind of the British

voter.

The re-structuring required the expenditure of vast sums,

and Woolton got them. He announced that a million pounds

was needed, and the monopolies contributed it to the Con-

servative Party’s funds.

No new name was adopted for the party, but a programme

along the lines suggested by Woolton was worked out,

very carefully. Here the leading part was taken by Butler.

Macmillan, who actively participated in this work, describes

its object as “the formulation and popularisation of new poli-

cies, based indeed on old principles but adapted to new and

changing conditions”. By 1945 the mass of voters had formed

their own opinion of the Conservative Party—on the basis

of observable facts, i.e. the actions of Conservative Govern-

ments in the 1930s and 1940s—as being a party hostile to

their interests, and they voted them out. Now the party

bosses were labouring to confuse the voters’ minds, give

them a different idea of the Conservative Party, but in fact

they were only selling the same old “goods” under a new name.

The creators of the “new image” of the party invariably stress

their own loyalty to the old principles of Conservatism,

retained from the previous century.

238

————————

One of the most influential men in the Conservative Party,

the Marquess of Salisbury, formulated the lines along which

the new programme of Conservatism was to be constructed.

Bearing in mind popular attraction to socialism, he proposed

that an alternative “progressive” policy should be offered.

What was this “progressive” policy? Salisbury said: “I see

our future in a spreading of capitalism. The fault of the

Capitalist system seems to me to be not that there are too

many capitalists but too few. We want to have more people

owning their own houses, farming their own farms, sharing

in the control of the industries in which they work.” These

ideas were far from new. The crux of them lies in giving as

broad a range of people as possible an interest in the con-

tinued existence of capitalism, especially people in the top

stratum of the working class, the dominant section in the

trade unions and the Labour Party. That is why the Butler

Committee, appointed to work out Conservative policy on

labour questions, had much consultation with trade union

leaders as well as with representatives of the business world.

The result of all this was the birth of an important Conser-

vative programme document, the so-called “Industrial

Charter”. In it the old principles of Conservatism were deftly

disguised by new theses, dictated both by the need to fight

the revolutionary movement and confront socialism and by

the demands posed by the growth, in extent and in depth,

of state-monopoly capitalism. While declaring themselves to

be, as before, supporters of private enterprise, but keeping

in mind the fact that a number of the country’s industries

was being nationalised and that there was certain state con-

trol in this sphere, the Conservatives came out in favour of

a mixed economy. The Industrial Charter proclaimed (ob-

viously with its tongue in its cheek) the Tories’ determina-

tion to eliminate unemployment, improve the social security

system, and keep control over a number of sectors of econom-

ic life in the hands of the state, while encouraging private

initiative wherever possible.

The authors of the Industrial Charter did their best to

make it as generalised as they could, avoiding definite pro-

posals. It was not detail that was important, they said, but

the general tone and temper of the document. That was not

quite the point though. Much that was included in the Char-

ter, particularly the part dealing with the situation of the

working class, the Conservative leaders had no intention of

carrying out, and they were trying to give as little grounds

239

as they could for later accusations of political trickery.

The bourgeois press, naturally, did its best to advertise

the Tory “new image”. The Spectator declared that “the last

excuse for labelling the Conservalive Party as at present con-

stituted as reaclionary” was now gone.

It has to be admitted that the sum total of all these mea-

sures, all these efforts to “work on” the British electorate,

soon brought the Conservatives their reward. A contributing

factor to this success was the existence of strong reactionary

tendencies in the policy of the Labour Party, then in power.

The upper echelons of the Conservatives entirely approved

the reorganisation of the party that had been thus brought

about. Eden, Macmillan, Butler and Salisbury all had es-

sentially the same attitude to the aims and objects set forth

in its programme documents. Their speeches of this period,

and documents and personal memoirs published later, all

bear witness to this.

In September 1947 Eden published a volume of his

speeches under the title hreedom and Order. The title was his

own idea. (Incidentally, the book’s success was less than

modest; as one critic remarked, until its appearance he

would never have thought it possible “to say so much and

say so little’.) Macmillan in his speeches also stressed that.

the Conservatives wanted to see contemporary problems

settled in such a way as to secure freedom as well as order.

This was not just a politician’s catchword. In the conditions

of turbulent revolutionary change taking place throughout

the world, the main aim of the Conservative Party really

was the preservation of freedom—bourgeois freedom, the

freedom of arbitrary action in the economic, political and

ideological spheres; and the preservation of order—bourgeois

order, i.e. the capitalist social system.

Much publicity was given in the press at the time, and in

later literature, to a concept formulated by Eden regarding

the social structure of Britain in the mid-20th century.

Speaking at the annual Tory Conference in October 1946,

he said: “There is one single principle that will unite all

the solutions that we shall seek... The objective of Social-

ism is state ownership of all the means of production, distri-

bution and exchange. Our objective is a nation-wide,

property-owning democracy.”

The meaning of this vague expression Eden interpreted

as follows: “Whereas the Socialist-purpose is the concentration

of ownership in the hands of the State, ours is the distribu-

240

tion of ownership over the widest practicable number of

individuals.” This thesis was hailed, and still is hailed, as

an “important discovery” in the theory of British Conser-

valism.

Propaganda has presented Eden's formula as if it were

something fresh and original. But Salisbury wrote the same

thing, and Macmillan too maintained it. What is more, it

was nothing new for Eden himself, since he had been advanc-

ing much the same idea in the mid-twenties.

When it voted the Labour Party into power in 1945,

the British people was eager to see radical changes in the

life of the country. The grim thirties—economic crisis, mass

armies of people unemployed and hungry, extremely low

standards of living for working people, a misguided and

adventurist foreign policy—must never come again.

The Labour Party carried through a series of far-reaching

reforms which, according to Churchill, “no Conservative

Government would have dared todo”. These measures were

intended to calm and satisfy the masses of the people. And

they were successful in this. But at the same time, the re-

forms of the forties had the object of bolstering up the eco-

nomic positions of British state-monopoly capitalism. Some

industries were nationalised, but this was state-capitalist

and not socialist nationalisation.

The ruling classes were compelled to make concessions in

the social sphere so as to forestall the development of revo-

lutionary struggle within the country. The extent of the

concessions made shows how greatly class opposition had

built up. But the British bourgeoisie is a past-master in

the art of social manoeuvre; at the earliest possible moment

it did its best to transfer to the backs of the working people

themselves the lion’s share of the expenditure required for

the operation of this system of reforms.

In the sphere of international relations, confrontation

with the forces of progress and socialism was for British

capitalism even sharper than it was within Britain. British

imperialism saw a direct threat to itself in the development

of socialist revolution in Europe and in Asia, and in the

growth of the USSR’s might and of its influence in interna-

tional affairs. The enhanced international prestige of the

USSR served to impede the realisation of the plans for Brit-

ish domination in Europe. And British ruling circles saw

Soviet prestige as being also one of the reasons for the exa-

cerbation of class contradictions within Britain herself,

16~01222 241

and for the growth of the national liberation struggle in

its colonial empire. After the war, confrontation with the

USSR and with socialism became the main line of British

foreign policy.

That was certainly how Eden understood the main import

of his own activities in the post-war years. Full Circle,

that volume of his Memoirs which deals with the period

from spring 1945 to January 1957, opens with a chapter

giving in general outline the foreign policy pursued by

Britain between 1945 and 1951. Practically the entire text

of this chapter is taken up by one theme: the “Soviet threat”

and the need to counter it.

The author is undismayed by the fact that Britain and the

USSR were bound by a twenty-year treaty of alliance and

cooperation in the post-war period, signed in 1942. “Allied

unity in war,” writes Eden, “crumbled at the first touch of

peace.” What was it that really troubled Eden as regards the

Soviet Union? Germany’s total defeat in the war, he writes,

had created a situation in Europe where “Russia saw no need

to seek a Western ally, still less to pay a price for one”.

An unequivocal formulation. Eden is unhappy with the

fact that the USSR, having gained victory, had ensured

its own security and therefore had no intention of “paying

a price” to the Western powers for alliance with them. The

“price” the writer has in mind is that the USSR should have

been prepared to accept the diktat of Britain and the USA

as to the post-war peace settlement. The ruling circles of

those countries were much concerned to deprive the USSR

of the fruits of its victory in the Second World War, and

since it was clearly not prepared to stand for this, it there-

upon became transformed for them from an ally into anenemy.

This is the theme-song of British Government documents

of the time, of Eden’s Memoirs, of Churchill’s books, and

of Macmillan’s Memoirs.

In the interests of post-war confrontation with the USSR,

it was highly essential for British ruling circles that they

Tm ee

should make themselves secure from their own people, who |

continued to see the USSR as an ally in the future too. Inone ©

Central Office of Information publication it is stated that

the rupture of Britain and the USA with the USSR had not |

taken place earlier partly in view of the fact that the peoples ©

of the Western countries retained their sympathy for the |

Russian people, remembering with admiration its heroic

effort in the war, and did not want to see a complete rupture

242

between Lhe former allies. So their rulers needed to blot

out those kindly feelings towards Lhe USSR which had flour-

ished in the years of the joint struggle against the common

enemy, and inculcate in their stead distrust and hatred for

the socialist state. That was to be the moral and psycholog-

ical foundation for a foreign policy hostile to the Soviet

Union.

So Britain’s imperialist forces launched a broad campaign

urging upon the British people a spirit of hatred and en-

mity towards the Soviet Union and towards socialism.

The Conservatives were at the head of this campaign. Chur-

chill’s notorious Fulton speech, with its call for preventive

war against the USSR, is aconvincivg demonstration of the

direction in which British ruling circles wished to turn

British and world public opinion. Every means of ideological

pressure was mobilised and brought into play.

A very active part in this unseemly deed was played by the

Attlee-Bevin Government. During the first eighteen months

in office the Labour leaders did not risk coming out of-

ficially with insinuations and slander against the USSR,

but later they dropped the mask. “At the close of the war,”

writes Eden, “our country was in no mood to be alerted to

this new [Soviet] danger and it took a man of stature and

sincere conviction, first to discover the extent of the danger

for himself, and then to lead his people... This Bevin did

and it is his enduring memorial.” Yes, Bevin fully deserved

this praise from Eden. Fle did much to “lead” the British

people against the USSR

The line in foreign policy pursued by the Labour Govern-

ment in the years 1945-1951 entirely suited the Conserva-

tives’ concepts. “During this period it was Winston Chur-

chill who set the lead for Britain’s foreign policy,” writes

Broad, and he is quite correct. At Fulton Churchill advanced

a policy from “positions of strength” against the Soviet Union

and the world communist movement, he proposed the orga-

nisation of an Anglo-American bloc to carry such a policy

through, and he raised on high the banner of the cold war.

Soon, in another speech in Zurich, he called for the creation

of a united Europe to oppose the USSR, which should in-

clude a restored and re-militarised Germany by way of a

shock counterrevolutionary force.

The Labour Government began feverishly carrying the

programme out. Together with the US Government it set

in motion the Marshall Plan, by means of which the econom-

16* 243

ic and political positions of European capitalism were to

be shored up against the growing revolutionary movement.

As a result Europe was split into two opposing groups of

slates, and the basis was created for building up an aggres-

sive Western European military and political bloc. It was

the efforts of the British Government above all which led

to the formation in 1948 of a Western Alliance bringing

together Britain, France, Belgium, the Netherlands and

Luxemburg, i.e. a separate grouping of states headed by

Britain and spearheaded against the USSR and other social-

ist countries.

A year later the North Atlantic Pact was signed which

brought into being the North Atlantic Treaty Organisation

(NATO), a military and political alliance of Western Euro-

pean states plus the USA and Canada. The participants in

NATO united on the basis of the desire to preserve the capi-

talist order by all means and to struggle against the USSR,

other socialist countries, and the international communist

and national liberation movement.

In the summer of 1950 Britain entered the war against the

Korean People’s Democratic Republic. The Labour Govern-

ment made use of the Korean war to “justify” setting in

train a radical re-armament, which before long resulted in

an armaments race lasting many decades and becoming a

permanent preoccupation. This was the programme mapped

out at Fulton and put into action and carried through with

conscientious care by a Labour Government.

The fact that it was Labour representatives applying this

aggressive line served to mask its real nature, and to act as

a brake upon the struggle by the masses against this impe-

rialist foreign policy. Conservatives highly approve the

efforts made by the Attlee-Bevin Government to put into

practice Churchill’s Fulton designs. In 1959, writing with

the benefit of some historical perspective, Eden analysed

Bevin’s actions thus: “His principal difficulty lay in his

own party, where, throughout his period as Foreign Secre-

tary, there was an active minority which was cool to his

policies or hostile to them. Fortunately Bevin possessed the

authority in the Labour Party, and above all in the Trade

Union movement, to dominate his critics.”

Eden, indirectly, bears witness that the policy of con-

frontation with the Soviet Union operated jointly by right-

wing Labour and the Conservatives, a policy of extreme anti-

communism, was far from finding support among the Brit-

244

ish people, despite ingenious propaganda contrivances from

all the reactionary forces in the country. This disapproval

on the part of rank-and-file Britons of the government’s

imperialist foreign policy exerted so strong a pressure on

Labour Members of Parliament that many of them came out

and spoke in set terms against it, in the House, in their

constituencies and in the press.

In the Soviet Union there was full realisation of what the

champions of anti-communism were aiming at. On February

24, 1951, Moscow sent a Note to London pointing out that

the British Government, so long as “it had need of the So-

viet Union, without which it could not gain victory over

Hitler Germany, had to some extent restrained ... its hostile

atlitude to the Soviet State. But, seeing how the wish for

friendship with the Soviet people was growing among the

British people, the Labour leaders ... had begun to show

their alarm and to hurry on measures designed to weaken

friendly relations between the British people and the peoples

of the USSR.”

It is hardly surprising that British ruling circles, together

with those in the USA who thought like them, should in

their desire to break up a great alliance have tried to lay

the responsibility for the break-up upon the USSR.

Accusations were made against the Soviet Union that it,

allegedly, contrary to the agreements signed in Yalta re-

garding the furthering of the establishment of democratic

governments in the liberated countries, had supported the

inclusion in those governments of Communists.

In fact the actions of the Soviet Government had been in

strict accord with the Yalta documents. When the corre-

sponding formulation was included in those documents, it

had been intended to cover all democratic forces, and Com-

munists foremost of all, since it was a Communist state,

the USSR, which had borne the brunt of the war against

fascism, and within the occupied countries it had been Com-

munists who were the most militant element within the

Resistance movement.

For the British and American Governments Communists

were democrats and allies only as long as they were shedding

their blood in the fight against the common foe. From the

very (lay when victory was gained, Communists ceased to

be considered democrats in London and Washington, and

maximum effort was directed Lowards preventing them from

taking part in deciding their own countries’ fate.

245

The Soviet Union, adhering strictly to the letter and the

spirit of the wartime agreements between the allies, sup-

ported the true forces of democracy in the liberated coun-

tries and refused to assist the efforts made by the British

and American Governments to strangle those forces, that

is it did its utmost to thwart the export of counterrevolution

by British and American imperialism. The Soviet Union

fulfilled its revolutionary internationalist duty towards the

peoples of Eastern and Central Europe, and that is what the

British and American anti-communists cannot forgive.

The Conservatives and their allies from among the right-

wing Labourites tried to justify hostility to the USSR by

alleging that the latter represented a terrible military threat

to the West. In making such allegations the enemies of

the Soviet Union carefully said nothing of the fact that

throughout its whole history, including this post-war period,

the Soviet Union had systematically proposed to the West,

including Britain, that their mutual relations should be

based upon the principles of peaceful coexistence of states

with differing social systems. Many Western bourgeois histo-

rians who have studied post-war international relations

have compared the oft-repeated declarations by the Soviet

Government of its desire for peaceful coexistence with

its actual deeds of foreign policy, and have come to the

conclusion that the declarations reflected the true desires

of the Soviet Union.

The mainspring of London's anti-Soviet line was blind

hatred of communism, a trait common to the Conservatives

and to the right-wing Labour leaders then in power. Eden

declared: “I hate Communism... But it is not enough to

say that... We have to recognise that those who hold the

creed hold it with a fervour that is almost a religion. If we

are to defeat them we must therefore believe just as fer-

vently in our faith and in ourselves.”

Eden said on many occasions that capitalism must op-

pose communism by an ideology no less forceful, but as

we know the wish to do so has today too remained a wish

only, impossible of fulfilment for those who think like

him. The Conservative think-tank producing the “new im-

age” of the party confined itself to recommendations of a

pragmatic nature. Tory No. 1, Winston Churchill, also

failed to cover himself with glory as creator of a new ideolo-

gy for British imperialism. “If you think,” he said to Moran,

“T have an alternative scheme of life, ] have none.” It would

246

—

SS eee

be unfair to blame only Eden and Churchill for this. Through-

out the entire bourgeois world moans may be heard on

{he need to work out an ideology which would meet con-

temporary conditions and be stronger than communist

ideology. But fruitless moaning is as far as they get.

The Conservative position in foreign policy during the

party’s period in Opposition, and afterwards too, was de-

termined not solely by the contradiction between social-

ism and capitalism but also by the contradictions with

Britain’s allies in the anti-communist front. Eden in par-

ticular, like every British imperialist, remained a con-

vinced partisan of Britain’s status as a Great Power, even

under the unfavourable conditions, for that position, of

the period following the Second World War. He was not

averse to calculations aimed at restoring Britain’s former

role in the world, although in the forties few could see

this as a realistic aim.

In October 1948 Eden spoke at the Conservative Party’s

annual conference on a draft foreign policy resolution, and

according to his biographer Campbell-Johnson he there

formulated “a clear and distinct doctrine which captured

the imagination of the delegates, and later of the country.

He himself laid great stress on this doctrine—he was to

revert to it during the 1950 General Election campaign—

which he christened the doctrine of the Three Unities.”

According to Eden, British foreign policy should be based

on the “unity between the Commonwealth and Empire,

without which no successful foreign policy could be pursued

by this country. Next came unity with Western Europe...

The third unity was that... with the United States.” Eden

stressed that “these three unities were not disparate, not

incompatible, but complementary”.

Campbell-Johnson and others emphasise the originality

and great significance of this concept, as if unaware that

at the same conference Churchill also spoke and outlined

something very like Eden’s formula, though less vague.

Churchill developed the concept of three great spheres. The

first sphere was the British Commonwealth and Empire;

the second was the English-speaking nations, among which

a great part was played by Britain; and the third sphere was

a united Europe. Churchill said that Britain was the only

country which played a great part in each of these spheres.

Churchill’s scheme is franker{ than Eden’s; it makes no

secret of the idea that the key to world affairs must be in

247

Britain’s hands. Churchill’s concept (and Eden’s similar

structure) was therefore directly at variance with the plans

for world domination being cherished by American impe-

rialist politicians.

Churchill set about realising his Fulton plans and the

above-mentioned scheme with an energy typical of his

nature. That is the explanation of his energetic espousal

of the movement for a “united Europe”. He was the origi-

nator of the movement in Britain, and took an active part

in various bodies, official and voluntary, which were work-

ing for it on the Continent. Many eminent colleagues of

his—Lord Woolton, Maxwell Fyfe, etc.—also participated

in this movement for a “united Europe”.

It is interesting that Eden, whom one might have expected

to be in the forefront of such a campaign, did his best to

keep in the background. “I never understood why Anthony

Eden stood aloof,” writes Macmillan. “It may well be that

Churchill shrank from trying to commit too specifically

a friend and a colleague who must, in the event of a Con-

servative Government returning to power, become either

Foreign Secretary or, in the event of Churchill’s death or

illness, Prime Minister. It may be that Eden felt himself

unable, with his long experience at the Foreign Office,

to share his leader’s enthusiasm.”

In spite of the propaganda camouflage, the imperialist

nature of British foreign policy was fairly obvious. Among

the masses of the people concern grew as to where that

policy would lead. The deterioration of relations with

the Soviet Union brought about by Britain and her NATO

allies, and the armaments race, evoked popular fears of

another world war. In personal conversation Churchill

said of the Labour Government: “They are going to have

a war with Russia.” Many British people thought the same.

Labour policies in economic and home affairs also aroused

growing dissatisfaction. The Attlee-Bevin Government

first’ made a number of major concessions to the working

people and then, starting with 1948, proceeded to nullify

these by various roundabout measures.

The Labour leadership sensed the change in the political

climate and began to worry about the result of the next

election. As mid-1950 was to see a great increase in arms

expenditure, which was sure to evoke popular protest, the

Labour leaders decided to call a General Election on Febru-

ary 23, 1950.

248

The Conservatives went into the election campaign with

a radically re-organised party machine and with a number

of attractive programme documents, also with the advan-

tage of popular discontent with the Labour Government to

exploit. The Labour election manifesto was exceedingly vague.

The result of the election was: Labour—315 seats, Con-

servatives—297. What had been an overwhelming Labour

majority was now down to danger point. The Parliamentary

balance was very fine, and it was therefore expected that

there would have to be another election before long. At the

state opening of Parliament Attlee declared that “the King’s

Government must be carried on”. But many were asking—

for how long?

Eden, as had already become a tradition, campaigned with

calm confidence, and was returned as a Member of the

House of Commons with an impressive majority of 9 thou-

sand votes over his Labour opponent.

After the election the Labour Government had accepted

a three-year re-armament programme imposed on Britain

by virtue of her membership of NATO; this was itself later

stepped up, and was to cost the country £4,700 million.

As a result taxation went up, the people’s living standards

went down, and there were cuts in the amounts of money

allocated to housing, social services, health and education.

As was only to be expected, dissatisfaction with the Labour

Government grew stronger. There was a split in the party

leadership, a number of Ministers resigned in protest

against the measures being pushed through.

The government was obliged to call a fresh General Elec-

tion, for October 25, 1951. This time there was even less

difference than before between the programmes of the two

parties. The Conservatives were very worried, though, that

the masses of the people saw them as a party of warmon-

gers. This was a natural reaction to Churchill’s Fulton speech

and to his other similar utterances. Macmillan admits that

many people voted against the Conservatives as a result

of “the bitter onslaught against Churchill on the ‘warmon-

gering’ issue”. The question of peace was thus the principal

issue in the election campaign. Neither of the main parties

could justifiably lay claim to being a champion of the

peace policy. In any case, the election brought defeat for

Labour: they got 295 seats in the House of Commons, where-

as the Conservatives got 3241. Eden was, as usual, re-

elected at the polls in his electoral district.

249

Newspapers such as the Yorkshire Post took a rosy view of

his future. By the time he was fifty, they wrote, Eden had

already clocked up quarter of a century’s experience of

Parliament, and attained a high peak of his political achieve-

ment. And the years in Opposition might prove to be

the decisive formative period leading him on from the

Foreign Office to Downing Street. This was an opinion

shared by many in the Conservative Party. They believed

that Eden would soon take Churchill’s place.

The question of Eden’s next destination—the Foreign

Office, or Downing Street?—was now on the practical agen-

da. It was not a simple question. It has to be the leader of

the victorious party in an election who forms the next gov-

ernment. That is the rule. But Churchill was now 77 years

old. And the post of Prime Minister in a country such as

Britain demands an immense amount of energy. At this

point in time Lord Moran wrote: “I doubt whether he is up

to the job.” Apart from anything else, he was becoming in-

creasingly deaf. Of course Churchill’s physical ills were

kept out of the public eye, but it was impossible to con-

ceal them altogether, especially from people in close con-

tact with him. So in the upper reaches of the Conservative

Party more and more voices were to be heard, particularly

those belonging to younger men, saying that it was time

for the old man to go.

Churchill knew it. But when Moran mentioned that there

were many who wanted him to retire, he replied confidently:

“But they need my name.” And this was true.

So, as Churchill was not immediately threatened with

deposition, he decided the question of whether or not he

should be Prime Minister for himself. He did have doubts,

and quite strong ones, but in the end these were overcome

by his limitless vanity and thirst for power, still power-

fully moving him even as his eightieth birthday approached.

Moran described his patient’s state of mind thus: “When the

struggle for power is at an end and his political life is over,

Winston will feel that there is no purpose in his existence.”

The final decision was taken early in October. On October

4 Brendan Bracken, a man very close to Churchill, told

Macmillan: “Churchill intends to stay a year or 18 months

as P.M. (not more) in the event of a victory at the polls...

Eden will go to the Foreign Office; Butler to the Exche-

quer.” Churchill thus put Butler third in the hierarchy

of party and government.

200

On October 28, 1951, Churchill invited Macmillan to his

country home at Chartwell and offered him the post of

Minister of Housing. Macmillan says that he was taken

aback by this proposal. “What an assignment!... I knew

nothing whatever about the housing problem except that

we had pledged ourselves to an enormously high figure,

generally regarded by the experts as unattainable.” Mac-

millan asked the advice of his wife, who had gone with

him, advice “which from a long experience I knew to be

generally sound. She was in no doubt at all that I ought to

accept.”

Eden in his Memoirs remains completely silent on the

problems of forming a Conservative Government in autumn

1951, confining himself to the statement that “at Mr. Chur-

chill’s invitation I became Foreign Secretary once again

and had to translate my convictions into action without

delay”.

There were plenty of foreign affairs problems on hand

for the British Government. Work had to be continued in the

military and political blocs already brought into being;

ways and means had to be found for re-militarising West

Germany (this issue had already been decided in principle);

there was the cold war with the Soviet Union to be kept

going (it had got off to a running start under Eden's pre-

decessors).

The new Foreign Secretary made no basic changes in the

foreign policy line being pursued. He merely continued

and developed what had already been begun, and this is

a much easier task than making sharp changes of course.

Britain’s claims to a leading role, in the affairs of Europe

at least, had also been staked out already; Eden had only

to uphold them. Macmillan remarks that “the next three

years, from 1951 to 1954, were to prove a period of baffling

and complicated diplomacy, in which the British Govern-

ment was naturally expected to play a leading role”. Brit-

ish politicians found it impossible to shed their accustomed

desire to be in “a leading role” always and everywhere,

although their power to do so was now insufficient, and

circumstances were hardly favourable.

On returning to the Foreign Office, Eden at once under-

took a series of visits to the capitals of Western European

countries, and to the United States. He needed to re-estab-

lish his contacts with heads of state, which had remained

“frozen” since 1945, to sort out on the spot what the situa-

254

tion was in the various countries, so as to be able to order

his relations with them accordingly. Of course it was pleas-

ant to feel that one was in harness again, to see one’s own

picture, and one’s own name in large type, on the front —

pages of the papers. Eden readily put in appearances before -

the television cameras. He was photogenic, so his speeches

on T.V. seemed more impressive than those in Parliament.

At the very beginning of 1952 Churchill and Eden together

sailed on the Queen Mary to the USA. They were accom-

panied by a large suite of advisers both civilian and mili-

tary, including the chiefs of staff of the three arms branches.

The delegation in fact was staffed like those of the

war days, attending meetings of the Big Three. But times

had changed, the balance of power was now quite definite,

and in Washington they did not take too much account of

the British.

After the talks were over Eden travelled to New York,

where he received the honorary degree of Doctor of Laws

from Columbia University. As tradition prescribed on

such occasions, the guest made a speech on international

relations. It was something in the nature of a manifesto

formulating Eden’s views and those of his government.

Eden referred to the sadly defunct League of Nations, spoke

of his fidelity to its ideals, and called for moral and ideolog-

ical unity of the Western world, for, as he put it, “the

enemy stands at the gate ready to take advantage of our

discords”. And who was this enemy of the human race and

of bourgeois civilisation? “The bitter doctrine of Communist —

Imperialism.”

Eden went on to expound what communism was as he

understood it. This was an Eden-style variation on Chur-

chill’s Fulton speech. The British Foreign Secretary once

again showed himself to be a determined enemy of com-

munism and of the USSR. He called on the Americans and his

own fellow-countrymen to create a force capable of com-

pelling the Soviet Union to bow to Anglo-American diktat.

In 1952 important changes occurred in Eden’s private

life. In March his son Nicholas left Oxford, without receiv-

ing a degree. Study did not suit the younger Eden, he was

uninterested and did badly, and so decided to give it up.

His father arranged for him to be given a post which was

both prominent and full of promise for the future —Aide-

de-camp to the Governor-General of Canada.

And on August 12 a news item appeared which attracted.

202

close attention in some sections of society in Britain and

the USA. It announced that Eden was marrying again.

[lis bride-to-be was Clarissa Churchill, niece of the Prime

\linister, the daughter of his late brother John Churchill.

\fer ancestry on the father’s side thus went back to the

Dukes of Marlborough, and on the mother’s to the Earls of

Abingdon. She was then 32 years old, 23 years younger

than her flancé.

Clarissa Churchill had graduated from Oxford in 1938,

where she had studied philosophy. She was then presented

at Court. She studied at a school of art, and was photo-

graphed a good deal for fashion magazines. In the war years

she worked in the Ministry of Information. Her duties there

included preparation for the press of the weekly Britansky

Soyuznik (British Ally), which was brought out in Russian

and distributed in the USSR through the British Embassy,

under a war-time agreement between the British and Soviet

Governments. Later on she worked in the Foreign Office,

as a cipher clerk and on other clerical work.

To quote Bardens, “Clarissa Churchill was wholly wn-

known outside her own special circle of aristocrats, academ-

ics...” She tried her hand at literary work, writing about

the ballet, theatre and the arts for Vogue. It has been said

that these pieces showed “a perceptive mind and cultivated

tastes”, but that “writing” did not come “easily to her”.

Also that there was “no doubt that her social status counted

a good deal in the magazines which printed her work”. At

one time she worked on publicity for Alexander Korda’s

films, acting as liaison officer between Korda and American

magazines. Then she worked for the magazine Contact.

Aristocratic connections and close blood relationship to the

Prime Minister gave her access to all the eminent persons of

Britain. That was probably what made her valuable as a

journalist and publicity worker.

Clarissa had a flat in London where she could do her own

entertaining, and a pleasant country cottage for week-

ends. It was said that she knew many people, but had few

friends. Among those who were close to her were Greta Gar-

bo, the photographer Cecil Beaton (who liked consorting with

the aristocracy), Eden’s private secretary, Nicholas Law-

ford, and the former Cabinet Minister Duff Cooper.

Clarissa met Eden at the country homes of Winston Chur-

chill and of the Duchess of Kent. They had much in com-

mon: their aristocratic origins, their closeness to Winston

253

Churchill, a love of golf, tennis, swimming, gardening, and

a taste for art and for travel. On theatre, though, their

tastes differed. Kden liked light pieces, shows at which one

could relax. Clarissa preferred Ibsen and Shakespeare.

As soon as the engagement announcement appeared,

congratulations poured in. One of the first to send a con-

gratulatory telegram was son Nicholas.

The day before the wedding, Clarissa moved to her uncle

Winston’s, to Downing Street. The civil registration of

the marriage was a markedly simple ceremony, taking

18 minutes in all, and in complete contrast to the expensive

“great occasion” which Eden’s first wedding had been.

First witness to the marriage was Winston Churchill; also

present were his wife Clementine, his son Randolph, his

two married daughters and their husbands, and a few more

friends and relations of both Eden and Clarissa. In the

street outside there was of course a crowd waiting to see

the happy pair (some say there were as many as 2,000),

so the mounted police were also in attendance.

After the ceremony there was a reception at 10 Downing

Street. Photographs of the couple taken then, in the garden

of No. 10, appear without fail in illustrated biographies of

Eden.

Tradition prescribes a honeymoon trip after a wedding.

And tradition was observed. For the first day of married

life, the couple were the guests of the millionaire Witney

Straight, whose house was near London Airport. Next day

they flew to Lisbon. Here there was an incident which

has been told and re-told by the biographers as if it was

of historic importance. Eden flew into a rage when he dis-

covered that the hotel in which they had reserved their

accommodation had no swimming pool. The couple left

ostentatiously, and spent their honeymoon (actually only

one week) in a distant part of Portugal, at a picturesque

spa.

In the following year Eden was taken seriously ill. The

doctors advanced differing diagnoses. At the end of March

1953 Eden’s state was so bad that his medical advisers and

family insisted that he must undergo tests immediately,

in spite of the fact that he was supposed to be making an

official visit to Turkey very shortly. X-ray examination

showed stones in the gall-bladder, and the doctors advised

immediate surgery. The trip to Turkey was cancelled, and

some others also; for Eden this was the beginning of a time

254

of severe physical sulfering and a stubborn fight for life.

On April 9 he was operated on in a London hospital, and

his gall-bladder removed, but recovery failed to follow.

ie had a persistent high temperature and grew increasingly

weaker, and there was a recurrence of the jaundice he had

suffered from the previous summer. The doctors decided

on a second operation, which was performed on April 29,

but even after this the patient did not improve.

Shortly after this a famous American surgeon called Cat-

tell, a great specialist on affections of the gall-bladder,

arrived in London to deliver lectures. Clarissa arranged for

him to examine her husband. Afterwards five medical men,

including the surgeon who had operated on Eden, issued

a bulletin stating that after operation the main gall duct

had remained open and that further surgical intervention

was necessary. Cattell declared that Eden would never

recover unless a third operation was made. He volunteered

to perform it, and was certain of its success, but only on

condition that Eden was transferred to Boston (US), where

there were special facilities not available in Britain. Eden

decided to have the operation in America. It was successful,

and he began slowly to recover.

After the operation he spent some time resting at the

house of an American friend, on the Atlantic coast. As he

rested and gradually regained his strength, Eden read a

great deal and went for walks in the fresh air. He became

fully fit again only after another holiday, on the French

Riviera, where he stayed with his son in a villa belonging

to Lord Warwick. Then he went for a cruise around the

Mediterranean by yacht, visiting Greece and Crete. On

October 5 he returned to work, bronzed and completely fit

again,

At this period Eden’s main attention was concentrated

on the confrontation with the Soviet Union and other social-

ist states in Europe. Britain had no intention of conducting

a struggle with the USSR on its own. Even while the war

was still on, Churchill and Eden had been concocting plans

for a united imperialist front in Europe. In 1946 Churchill,

developing these plans further, had proposed in a speech

made in Zurich the creation of “a kind of United States of

Europe”. The 1947 Dunkirk Treaty, between Britain and

France, and the pact under which a Western Union was

formed (it included Britain, France and the Benelux coun-

tries), were steps towards realising those plans. In 1949

255

the British Conservatives gave their most energetic sup-

port to a conference of European statesmen at the Hague,

at which the Council of Europe was set up. At the same time,

a Consultalive Assembly was established at Strasbourg,

for the discussion of problems of European unity, as well as

a Council of Ministers.

Even these early days saw the introduction of a mislead-

ing terminology. The creators of these so-called European

communities made a great noise about “uniting Europe”.

In fact the opposite was the case—this was a division of Eu-

rope, with imperialist Western Europe being opposed to so

cialist Eastern Europe.

Eden’s Memoirs make it clear that British ruling circles

were “uniting Europe” against the USSR, also against the

progressive movement in European countries. He says

that in Europe after the war “the Russians stayed, almost

at full strength” and that “in such conditions the absence

of a German army ... was a critical weakness”. So that

weakness must be made good, i.e. a German army must be

created, Germany re-militarised (all of Germany if possible,

but at a pinch the zones under Western occupation would

do) and used as a shock force against the USSR.

That was how British ruling circles thought. But the vast

majority of the French people, having learned by the bitter

experience of three wars what German militarism meant

for French security, were against handing arms to the Ger-

mans six years after the end of the Second World War.

“French opinion,” writes Eden, “hated the idea of the rear-

mament of Germany.” Re-militarisation caused anxiety

not only among the French, but among other peoples ivo.

Ilence the search for ways of bypassing their objections, a

search which produced the plan for creating a European

Defence Community.

The so-called Pleven Plan appeared, under which the

Federal Republic of Germany would have armed forces with-

in the framework of a united European army. It was con-

sidered that this arrangement offered a sufficient guarantee

that West Germany would not attack its neighbours and

allies within the European Army. This plan was naturally

greeted with rapture by Bonn. The FRG received arms

after the Second World War much more quickly than the

Weimar Republic had been able to do after the First. By

autumn 1951 the Pleven Plan had been transformed into

a plan for the creation of the European Defence Community,

256

and its main provisions had been agreed among the partic-

ipating countries.

In the course of all this the British Government’s double

game was revealed. On August 11, 1950, Churchill had

made a speech in the Consultative Assembly in Strasbourg

in which he said: “We should make a gesture of practical

and constructive guidance by declaring ourselves in favour

of the immediate creation of a European army under a unified

command, and in which we should bear a worthy and honour-

able part [my emphasis—V.7.].” Even without the innu-

merable analogous statements made by British representa-

tives and by Churchill himself, this single speech would

itself have been sufficient to make Britain’s position absolute-

ly clear: she was the leading initiator and was to be the

chief participant in the European Army being created.

Such was the opinion of the European politicians involved,

many of whom saw British participation as an addition-

al guarantee of the loyal behaviour of re-militarised West

Germany towards its allies; then all of a sudden it transpired

that Britain was not intending to take a practical part in

the European Defence Community and contribute units of

its own to the European Army. Britain, while egging on

the Western European countries to create this army and re-

militarise the FRG, proposed to keep her own hands free.

In November 1951 a leading British Minister, M. Fyfe,

made a statement in Strasbourg the text of which had been

approved by the Cabinet. “I cannot promise full and uncon-

ditional participation [by Britain in the EDC],” he said.

The same day at a press conference in Rome a few hours

later, Eden announced Britain’s wish to establish “the clos-

est possible association at all stages of its development”

with the European Defence Community.

The journalists were quick to seize on the difference be-

tween “participation” and “association”, and put supplemen-

lary questions. Answering these, Eden explained that

“the word ‘association’ did not imply that British units

and formations would be part of the European Army, but

that there might be some other form of association”. This

double-dealing and lack of good faith naturally caused

great indignation among the governments of the Western

Kuropean countries.

On December 1, in a minute to Churchill, Eden formulat-

ed the British position on this matter: “I have never thought

it possible that we could join such an army... We should

17—01222 257

Piece —

support the Pleven Plan, though we cannot be members of

it. This is what the Americans are doing.”

The reference to the Americans reveals the springs of the

British attitude. Officially, Eden and other Ministers ex-

plained that Britain could not bind herself more firmly

to the EDC because she had traditional, historical links

with the countries of the Commonwealth which precluded

this.

Certainly the British economy, and British political

life, was and still is dependent on links with the Common-

wealth countries. But, firstly, these links were being rapidly

transformed, so that Britain could despite them have taken

part in the EDC, on the same basis as, say, France. For

France, too, had a “Commonwealth” of her own, which

emerged on the ruins of her colonial empire, and was bound

to it by the same kind of links as Britain to hers. Secondly,

as we know, when Britain decided six or seven years later

that she wanted to be closely integrated with Europe (i.e.

made her request to join the Common Market), imperial

links did not stop her doing so. Thirdly and finally, when

Churchill and other government Ministers had spoken in

the early fifties of a European Defence Community with

Britain taking part they can scarcely have forgotten about

Britain’s imperial role, and must consequently have con-

sidered that the two things were not incompatible.

Probably the main reason for the change in British policy

regarding the EDC was the British desire to do as “the Amer-

icans were doing”, i.e. to make sure that they had control

of the projected military grouping, and to play upon the

contradictions between its members, chiefly those bet ween

France and Germany, in order to guide its policies and

strategy in their own interests.

Just why was the British Government first ready to take

part in the EDC on the same basis as others, and then chan-

ged its position? What was this—a mistake, later corrected?

By no means. The politicians of London considered to be-

gin with, and quite rightly, that if they started organising

others while stating that they were not themselves going

to be “organised”, on account of their special interests and

their special role in the world and in Europe, then other

countries would not commit themselves to the military

and political grouping envisaged. But once the preparatory

work had reached an advanced stage, it was decided in Lon-

don that it was now safe to jump off the wagon, it would car-

298

ry on rolling of its own accord. A crafty and _ perfidious

proceeding? Yes. But Britain’s associates should have been

used to such by now.

Within the British Government there were differences of

opinion respecting the British line towards the EDC: Mac-

millan, Maxwell Fyfe and some other Ministers held that

Britain should join the Community. Otherwise, Macmillan

wrote, “there would be a European Community, from which

we should be excluded, and which would effectively con-

(rol Europe... Germany was weak now; in the long run she

would be stronger than France, and so we might be bring-

ing about in twenty years’ time that domination of Europe

by Germany to prevent which we had made such terrible

sacrifices twice within a single generation”. More than once

in his Memoirs Macmillan makes remarks like “I feared that

if the Defence Community came into being without us, there

would ultimately be a Europe dominated by Germany”.

For Macmillan and those who thought like him the question

came down to this: how could they prevent German domi-

nation of Europe and seize the leading role in European

affairs for themselves.

For those who took the opposite point of view—Eden,

Churchill, and most of the Cabinet Ministers—that was

the vital point too. But they considered that the British

Government could achieve its aims better while remaining

outside the Community. The struggle against the USSR

coloured their position very strongly. For this group within

the Cabinet, notes Macmillan, “the only vital thing was

the early organisation of the forces in NATO, including a

German contribution”, against the USSR.

KEden’s line carried the day easily, and he busied himself

with persuading the French Government to cast aside the

doubts besetting it and agree to the creation of the EDC.

The Foreign Office produced a series of proposals designed

to tempt the French. It was suggested that there would

be an Anglo-American declaration that those countries

would support France were she threatened by the re-milita-

rised Germany; a treaty was suggested between Britain

and the Community which would embody a similar obli-

gation, and various other guarantees. But still the French

hesitated. Hearing all these promises, they clearly recol-

lected the similar guarantees which Britain had given

France in the twenties and thirties, and what they had

led to.

17* 259

Eventually agreement was reached, and on May 26,

1952, a treaty was signed in Bonn by Britain, the USA,

France and the FRG on relations between the three powers

and the FRG, providing for participation by West Ger-

many in the European Defence Community and in the

European Army, an ending of the occupation statute, and

full control by West Germany of its internal affairs and

its foreign policy. The next day a treaty was signed in

Paris by the governments of the FRG, France, Italy, Bel-

gium, the Netherlands and Luxemburg, providing for the

formation of the European Defence Community.

Two diametrically opposed lines of policy regarding the

German question and its solution were thus emerging before

the eyes of the world. Whereas the Soviet Union was work-

ing for the re-unification of Germany on a peaceful, demo-

cratic basis and for the conclusion of a peace treaty with

her, the Western powers aimed at putting arms in the hands

of the German revanchists, and using the latter in confron-

tation with the socialist countries.

The USSR firmly opposed the re-militarisation of the

FRG, insisting that a peace treaty should be signed with

Germany, to be followed later by the withdrawal of the

occupation forces from the country. On March 41, 1952,

the Soviet Government presented its draft of the principles

of a peace treaty with Germany for consideration by the

governments of Britain, France and the USA. This draft

envisaged the restoration of Germany as a single, indepen-

dent, peaceful and democratic state. The Soviet proposals

provided for “the elimination of the possibility of a resur-

gence of German militarism and aggression”. This was in

the interests not of the Soviet Union alone, but of France,

and of Germany’s other neighbours, and of Britain too,

looking at the matter from the standpoint of her basic,

vital interests.

After the Bonn treaty had been signed the Soviet Govern-

ment took cognisance of the new situation thus created,

i.e. that there was now a formal military alliance between

Britain, the USA, France and the FRG, and proposed

to the Western powers that there should be a Four-Power

Conference to discuss a peace treaty with Germany and

the formation of an interim all-German government. “Rus-

sia,” we read in Macmillan’s Memoirs, “during the spring

of 1952 began to put forward proposals for a meeting to

diseuss the question of German reunification. Eden played

260

off this intervention with considerable skill by immediately

raising the question of a United Nations Commission to

arrange the conditions of German elections.” The object

of Eden’s “skill” was clear to the Soviet Government: he

was proposing that the elections should be organised in

such a way as to produce a restoration of capitalism in the

GDR and bring a re-united Germany into the imperialist

military blocs. Such “skill” was naturally not to the taste

of either the USSR or the GDR.

At the same time Eden emphasised his readiness to hold

talks with the USSR. Talks for what purpose? Not that

of seeking mutually agreeable settlement of the German

question, ob no. Eden himself writes that when he met

the French Foreign Minister, “Schuman and I discussed

the possible reactions of the Soviet Union to ... the E.D.C.

treaty. We agreed that, while persisting with our plans,

we would make every effort to draw the Russians into declar-

ing their intentions for Europe. We should make it clear

that we were always ready to talk.”

Here we have a method frequently employed by British

diplomacy. It presses on, quietly, with the furtherance of

its own imperialist aims, but by way of camouflage it en-

gages at the same time in talks dealing with quite different

propositions.

In Britain, and in many other countries, protests against

the plans to re-militarise Germany were very strong. It

was a broad movement, influencing many Members of

Parliament. It was in order to quell this movement that the

British Government demonstratively indicated its readi-

ness to hold talks with the Soviet Union on the German

question.

Of course talks of such a kind could not be successful.

And whenever the latest round of talks came to an end,

the British Government would attribute its lack of success

to the Soviet Union's “inflexibility”. It was double-dealing

diplomacy, diplomacy of deception and misinformation of

both the British people and world public opinion.

In cases where diplomacy of this sort is engaged in, the

commentator or historian is faced with animportant ques-

tion: to what extent should one give credence to the decla-

rations of British diplomats and politicians, or to Foreign

Office documents relating to such talks? Readers will hardly

need prompting to find the answer to that.

After the Bonn and Paris treaties had been signed, a

261

struggle to get them ratified began, and it went on for two

years. It was at just this juncture that Lord Salisbury (dur-

ing Eden’s absence through illness) went to Washington

to discuss a number of problems, including that of the

EDC. Churchill briefed him beforehand, saying: “I believe

E.D.C. would have made the French less troublesome and

Soviet Russia more disposed to work with me... If we’d

got E.D.C., then we could have spoken to Russia from

strength, because German rearmament is the only thing

they are afraid of. I want to use Germany and E.1D.C. to

keep Russia in the mood to be reasonable—to make her

play. And I would use Russia to prevent Germany getting

out of hand.” “It sounds cynical,” Churchill concludes. One

can only agree with him. There you have it, British foreign

policy and diplomacy plain and unadorned. That is

the kind of documentary evidence that does inspire

belief.

In March 1953 the British and US Governments were

given unexpected hope that their all-out pressure upon

the Soviet Union might at last yield the results which

London and Washington were wanting. J. V. Stalin died.

Early in March Eden and Butler had set out for New York

by sea, and they learned the news as they were coming in-

to New York harbour. On the quayside a crowd of jour-

nalists was waiting for Eden. They all wanted to know what

effect the death of Stalin would have on international rela-

tions. Whatever Eden’s opinions on the subject may have

been, he kept them to himself. But even though the Brit-

ish Foreign Secretary did not answer the question, parrying

it with general phrases, he must nevertheless have asked

himself the same question many, many times.

During the war years Eden had made a considerable con-

tribution to build ng up and keeping in being the anti-

Hitler coalition and the military and political alliance

with the USSR. He had maintained regular contact wilh

both the Soviet and the American Ambassador in London,

he had repeatedly visited Moscow and Washington either

on his own or accompanying Churchill, he had taken part

in all the high-level conferences between the USSR, Brit-

ain and the USA. On more than one occasion he had been

responsible for negotiations on important issues with Stalin

and Roosevelt.

A quarter of a century later, in 1967, in an interview with

a journalist called Alden Whitman, Eden saw fit to give

262

his personal opinion on the leaders of the USSR and the

USA.*

Recalling the war years, Eden told Whitman that he

considered Stalin “the ablest negotiator I have ever seen

in action”. “He had a very clear sense of purpose,” said

Eden. “He was never violent in speech ... but quiet and

insisted on the things that mattered to him.”

Oddly enough, Eden is more critical of Roosevelt as a

man than he is of Stalin. “Roosevelt was familiar with

the history and geography of Europe,” he noted. “Perhaps

his hobby of stamp collection had helped him to this knowl-

edge but the ... opinions which he built upon it were alarm-

ing in their cheerful fecklessness. He seemed to see himself

disposing of the fate of many lands, Allied no less than

enemy. He did all this with so much grace that it was not

casy to dissent.”

Whatever dimly seen possibilities began to stir in Eden’s

inind at Stalin’s death, it is evident that he made too much

of the personal element in foreign policy, and in general

of the role of the individual in history. It is a failing com-

mon among many Western politicians.

Now that Stalin was no longer alive, the leaders of the

Western world felt it was an appropriate moment to mount

a fresh political attack upon the Soviet Union. The previous-

ly agreed programme for the British Ministers’ visit to

the US had given Edena meeting with President Eisenhow-

er ina few days’ time. But when they landed in New York

on March 4, Eden flew to Washington immediately and

took part, as his biographer Broad tells us, “in a hastily

convoked meeting at the White ITouse the same night”.

In the course of this meeting Eden, General Eisenhower

and the recently appointed Secretary of State, John Foster

Dulles, “exchanged views on Russia’s future”.

“After Stalin’s death would the Soviets be inclined to

show less animus against the West? That was the question

in all minds,” writes Broad. “Less animus”, of course, meant

greater Soviet readiness to make concessions. At a press

luncheon, the following day, Eden “touched upon it not

* Viden had made it a condition of the interview, dealing as it

did with many of the most important issues of his career, that it

should not be published until after his own death. Whitman kept

to his agreement, and published the interview only after ten years

had passed, on January 15, 1977, in The New York Times, as a

kind of obituary of Eden.

263

unhopefully”. “The Western powers,” he said, “must be

ready to negotiate with Russia to end the division of the

world into two armed camps... I think there is only one

attitude to take—to build our strength and adapt ourselves

to things which might happen.”

When the talks in Washington were concluded, a joint

communique was issued stating that the Ministers had

exchanged views on “developments in the Soviet Union”.

The Ministers had agreed to continue building up NATO’s

military strength, and to employ the threat of its use to

try and oblige the USSR to make major concessions. Chur-

chill was suddenly fired with the idea of holding a new

Summit meeting, to include the USSR, being convinced

that no one could do better than he at foisting off on the

Soviet Government such solutions to the principal inter-

national problems as would be advantageous to the West.

In the spirit of a unified Anglo-American approach to

relations with the USSR, President Eisenhower addressed

to the Soviet Government, on April 16, a demand that it

should give tangible evidence of a desire for peace. “We

care only,” he said, “for sincerity of peaceful purpose,

attested by deeds. The opportunities for such deeds are

many.” These “deeds” were to be concessions on key inter-

national issues. It was unilateral concessions that were

being demanded of the USSR, not compromise (with con-

cessions made on both sides), equal, mutually advantageous

agreement.

It can be readily understood that that kind of language

was not appropriate for constructive discussion with the

USSR either prior to 1953 or after that.

The leaders of Britain and the USA were soon convinced

of this. In 1959, recalling the spring of 1953, Eden wrote:

“Although the death of Stalin brought some modification

in the technique of Moscow’s foreign policy, its real charac-

ter was not changed.” He might have reached the same

conclusion in 1953, if he had understood that the foreign

policy of a government is determined by the social struc-

ture of the state, and by the interests of the classes in power,

and that it therefore remains constant in principle, so long

as there are no changes in those spheres. Of course the individ-

uals in leading state positions leave their own imprint,

to a certain extent, on this or that diplomatic act, but

they cannot change the aims and fundamental principles

of foreign policy. The foreign policy line of the CPSU has

264

been constantly determined, throughout the entire ex-

istence of the Soviet state, by Lenin’s principles for socialist

foreign policy—the principle of proletarian internationalism,

and the principle of the peaceful coexistence of states with

differing social systems.

Throughout 1953 and 1954, the British Government was

kept hard at it to try and get the agreements on the crea-

tion of the E.D.C. ratified. Eden had endless talks with

de Gaulle’s Ministers. Simultaneously, Churchill made

public speeches containing threats towards France if she

should not ratify the E.D.C. agreement. One of these threats

was that the British Government might go for a normalisa-

tion of relations with the USSR. On May 11, 1953, Chur-

chill made a speech mentioning the possibility of agree-

ment of some kind being reached with the USSR. This

speech is a good example, incidentally, of how flexible”

the British politicians can be: they were knocking together

the E.D.C., intimidating the countries of Western Europe

with the “Soviet threat”, but should need arise they were

quite ready to use the reverse threat, that they might them-

selves reach agreement with the USSR.

But this declaration had an effect the exact reverse of

that intended by London. On August 30, 1954, the French

Chamber of Deputies rejected the agreement on the creation

of a European Defence Community. This was a major defeat

for the British Cabinet’s European policy. But for Eden

personally, the blow was softened by the success which had

attended the Geneva Conference (summer 1954), in which

he himself took part, on problems of the Far East and

South-East Asia.

In January 1950 Britain had established diplomatic rela-

tions (on a very limited scale) with the newly formed Peo-

ple’s Republic of China. This was far from meaning that

British imperialism had resigned itself to the immense

changes taking place in Asia and the Far East. Britain

and the USA maintained a bitter struggle against the so-

cialist and national liberation revolutions which were

proceeding in those areas. When in 1950 the USA committed

aggression against the Korean People’s Democratic Repub-

lic, Britain became its most active ally, sending a Common-

wealth division to fight in Korea. It was a fierce war, and

Britain shares in the responsibility for it. At the time when

Eden returned to the Foreign Office, the forces of imperial-

ism had already lost that war, but the search dragged on

265

at the negotiating tables for a formula which would enable

the United States to withdraw without “losing face”. One

obstacle to reaching agreement on an armistice was the

question of exchanging prisoners of war. Eden advanced

a proposal that a start should be made by exchanging,

first, the sick and wounded. This was acted upon. Some

consider that this was a characteristic trait of Eden’s diplo-

matic tactics: if talks on grave issues had reached deadlock,

he would try to get agreement on some particular, minor

point of the matters under discussion. Of course the Korean

armistice agreement, signed on July 27, 1953, cannot be

put down to Eden’s credit, it was a major victory of the

peace forces, and evidence of the success attending the

efforts of the USSR and other socialist countries to achieve

relaxation of international tension.

After Korea, the most dangerous area of tension was Indo-

china, where the flames of war were spreading ever wider.

In 1945, at the end of the Second World War, Britain had

landed her troops in Indochina to preserve “order” until

the French colonial administration would come back. Every

conceivable effort was made by London to prevent the

national liberation movement triumphing in Indochina,

for close by, as it were next door, there were major British

colonies of the utmost value, which might find the example

of Indochina infectious. Consequently, when the Democratic

Republic of Vietnam was proclaimed, headed by President

Ho Chi Minh, and the armed struggle of the Vietnamese

people against the French colonialists began, not only the

sympathies but the moral and political support of the

British Government were on the side of the colonial-

ists.

After the defeat of the American intervention in Korea,

the correlation of forces in Indochina began to shift rapidly

in favour of the national liberation movement. Two years

later, the French Government began addressing urgent

requests for aid to the USA and Britain. The French com-

plained that they could not carry on the fight for “the inter-

ests of the free world” in Indochina single-handed, when

at the same time they were being told “to make the con-

tribution to European defence”.

The British Government feared that any military aid

given to the French in Indochina by Britain and the US

would automatically bring the People’s Republic of China

into the conflict, on the side of the Democratic Republic of

266

Vietnam. Hence Eden’s warning to US Secretary of State,

Dean Acheson, in 1952, that “Her Majesty’s Government

were strongly opposed to any course of action in South-

ast Asia which would be likely to result in a war with

China”. It was a realistic view of the matter. It was based

on a just appreciation of the USA’s defeat in its fight against

the Chinese revolution, the defeat of the USA, Britain and

other countries in the Korean war, the ejection of Brit-

ish colonialism from India, Pakistan, Burma and Ceylon,

and France’s evident debacle in Indochina.

As for the French attempt to link the situation in South-

last Asia with that in Europe, Eden set that firmly aside.

He told Pleven, the French Minister of Defence, that he

had every sympathy with the French position, but the

French argument that Indochina made it impossible for

France to build up any army in Europe would not carry

conviction in the United Kingdom. British opinion would

be more impressed when France increased her National

Service to (wo years as Britain had done, and called up her

reserves for training.

Stating your arguments is one thing, but in London they

were seriously concerned that the situation in Indochina

might wreck the setting up of the Kuropean Defence Commu-

nity. As Eden wrote later: “The fate of the E.D.C. was

in part dependent upon its [i.e. the Indochinese problem’s]

solution. As Sir Oliver Harvey [British Ambassador in

Paris—V.7.] reported at the time, Indochina had become

the key to European problems.”

In 1954 the British Government’s position vis-a-vis

the war in Indochina was essentially this: Britain was

anxious to assist in the defence of colonial positions in

that area both immediately and in the future; she considered

it possible and indeed indispensable to wage armed struggle

against the national liberation movement under way there,

but so as not to provoke a major war; she considered it

essential to bring the war to a conclusion as rapidly as

possible, so that it should not act as a hindrance to realisa-

lion of the plans for the E.D.C.

Iden therefore supported the Soviet proposal made at

the Berlin Conference of Foreign Ministers of the USSR,

Britain, the USA and France, that a similar conference

should be convened in which representatives of the Peo-

ple’s Republic of China and of some other states should

also take part, to discuss the restoration of peace in Indo-

267

china. It was agreed that this conference should take place

in Geneva, starting on April 26, 1954.

This decision was taken largely in spite of objections

raised by Dulles. It was a rare event for the British Foreign

Secretary to disagree publicly with the American Secretary

of State. Dulles was a tough and obstinate man, especially

when the struggle against socialist revolution was involved,

and he refused to let the Berlin decision put him off.

American ruling circles had been infuriated by the US

defeat in China and in Korea, and were thirsting to get

their revanche in Indochina. There were other motives

also: victory of the democratic forces in Indochina would

have been a serious blow to the positions of American im-

perialism in the area.

The American Government made an altempt to organise

in quick time a collective intervention in Indochina which

would, firstly, help the French to maintain their positions

in the struggle against the national liberation movement,

aud secondly, wreck the forthcoming Geneva Conference.

To tempt the wavering Eden and Churchill, Dulles said

that those taking part in this “collective action” would

form the nucleus of an organisation for struggling against

the revolutionary and national liberation movement in

South-East Asia. This proposal soon took real shape, when

SEATO was formed.

The British Ministers were taken to the idea of a Far

Eastern version of NATO—an organisation which would

stand guard over British imperialist interests in the region.

Its creation would also go some way towards neutralising

the bitter feeling of humiliation the British Government

had undergone when in 19514 the USA, Australia and New

Zealand had organised an imperialist bloc and had uncere-

moniously excluded Britain.

On March 29, 1954, in a speech to the Press Club, Dulles

said that the spread of communism to South-East Asia

“should not be passively accepted but should be met by

united action”. Eden realised at once that the American

Government was preparing to take an action similar to

the one in Korea. On April 1 he sent a telegram to the

British Ambassador in Washington saying that the British

Government fully shared the US desire to see Indochina

protected against communism, but did not consider

that the time was yet ripe fora successful solution to the prob-

lem.

268

Meanwhile, the fight for Dien Bien Phu, a most impor-

lant strategic point in Indochina, was going badly for the

French; they were under threat of a defeat which would

lave far-reaching political consequences. Dulles therefore

approached the British and French Governments with

fresh proposals: all the countries concerned should make a

solemn declaration of their readiness “to take concerted

action ... against continued interference by China in the

Indo-China war”. The proposed declaration was to include

the threat of naval and air action against the Chinese coast,

and of active intervention in Indochina itself. This decla-

ration was to be made jointly by the USA, France, Britain,

Australia, New Zealand, Thailand, the Philippines, and

three associated states of Indochina—Vietnam, Laos and

Cambodia. The same group of states should simultaneously

organise a system of collective defence in South-East

Asia.

Knowing British and French reservations on this matter,

Kisenhower sent Churchill a personal message urging him

to fall in with the American plan. Dulles was sent to London

to discuss the plan. It was not possible to refuse to talk to

Dulles, but Eden at once telegraphed his Ambassador in

Washington warning him to be extremely cautious and

say nothing that might be construed as British agreement

io the American plan. “We were now faced with a decision

of major importance,” Eden says in his Memoirs.

In the briefing issued for the talks with Dulles, he warned:

he United States proposal assumes that the threat of

retaliation against China would cause her to withdraw aid from

the Vietminh. This seems to me a fundamental weakness...

The joint warning to China would have no effect, and the

coalition would then have to withdraw ignominiously or

else embark on warlike action against China.

“Neither blockade nor the bombing of China’s internal

and external communications ... were considered by our

Chiefs of Staff to be militarily effective... They would,

however, give China every excuse for invoking the Sino-So-

viet Treaty, and might lead to a world war.” The Americans

had not “weighed the consequences of this policy”. In view

of these circumstances, Britain could not “commit ... forces

to operations in Indo-China”, such was Eden’s conclusion,

and he went on to recommend that any action taken must

he such as to be “acceptable to British (and French) public

opinion”. At the same time he had words of warm approval

“rp

269

for the idea of organising “collective security” in South-

East Asia. The Cabinet approved this formulation by the

Foreign Secretary of Britain’s position.

On the very eve of his meeting with Dulles, thus, Eden

was empowered to raise categorical objections to repeating

the experience of Korea in Indochina; to give all possible

support to plans for creating a military and political bloc

in South-East Asia; and to ensure that the projected Geneva

Conference did take place.

On April 11 Eden and Dulles dined together at the Amer-

ican Embassy and then had a thorough discussion of the

Indochina problem. Eden stuck to the position which the

Cabinet had approved, and Dulles was not at all pleased.

After this meeting a rather featureless communique was

issued.

Three days later Eden discovered, to his great indigna-

tion, that Dulles had pressed on and, without waiting for

the results of the Geneva Conference, had taken steps to-

wards setting up a military and political bloc in South-

Kast Asia. Eden instructed the British Ambassador in

Washington to protest, and his telegraphed message ended

thus: “Americans may think the time past when they need

consider the feelings or difficulties of their allies. It is the

conviction that this tendency becomes more pronounced

every week that is creating mounting difficulties for anyone

in this country who wants to maintain close Anglo-Ameri-

can relations.” The tone of this telegram, unusually firm for

Eden, shows the depth of his indignation at US disregard

for the opinion of the British Government.

Dulles’ attempts to hasten the organisation of “collec-

tive action” in Indochina made den and his colleagues

quite nervous. There were emergency Cabinet meetings, which

confirmed approval for the position already taken. In his

meetings with American representatives Eden repeated

again and again that their plan was highly dangerous and

could lead to a third world war.

So he feared a major war in Asia—why? There were sever-

al reasons. The British people would not only have disap-

proved of such a war, they would have taken energetic ac-

tion against it. The Asian members of the Commonwealth—

India, Pakistan, Burma, Ceylon—would have objected

most strongly to any such measures being taken in Indochi-

na, and any British participation in applying them would

be fraught with immense complications in relations be-

270

tween Britain and those countries. A major war in Asia

would require the despatch of British and French forces

thither, and these could only be taken from [Europe itself.

Thus the European theatre—in the eyes of British politi-

cians the most important theatre—of confrontalion with

the USSR and the other socialist countries would be left

bare. The E.D.C. project would fail, and the idea of build-

ing up a position of strength against the USSR in Europe

would have to be abandoned. That did not suit the Brit-

ish Government at all.

Furthermore, there were well-founded fears that any

extension of colonialist imperialist intervention in Indochi-

na, creating a major theatre of war, would make that war

from the very start one against an alliance of anti-imperial-

ist countries. In that case a mighty united front of the peo-

ples of Asia would be created, which would bring together

over a billion people and sweep away for ever all colonial

regimes in that part of the globe. And Britain would then

lose finally what footholds she had in Asia.

Lastly, Churchill and Eden could not help but see that

patticipation in the action proposed by the Americans

would inevitably entail still greater British dependence

upon the USA.

Hence Eden’s firm stand in the talks with Dulles, and

the failure of the American attempt to wreck the Geneva

Conference.

Eden went to Geneva not by train, as he used to do in

the thirties, but by special military aircraft. At Orly air-

port he broke his journey briefly, to inform his French col-

league that the British Government’s position was unchanged.

Although Eden, and his biographers and British histor-

ical writers have tried to attribute to him alone the suc-

cess of the Geneva Conference in settling the problem of

Indochina, in fact that success was largely due to the efforts

of the Soviet delegation, which had been sent to Geneva

with firm instructions from the Soviet Government to

ensure that the Indochina war be brought to an end. Five

years later, Eden expressed recognition of the constructive

contribution made by the Soviet delegation. “Molotov was

genuinely anxious to reach settlement,” he wrote. “In our

frequent private conversations he often came forward with

some helpful suggestion or concession, which enabled the

work of the conference to move forward.”

Eden too was anxious that agreement should be reached,

271

for failure of the conference would have freed the hands of

the American Government to go ahead with their risky ad-

venture, which London saw as fraught with danger. The

Geneva Conference exacerbated Anglo-American relations

to the highest degree. Dulles indignantly refused to take

part in it, leaving his deputy, Bedell Smith, to head the

American delegation, though all the other delegations were led

by the appropriate Ministers.

Agreement was reached at the Geneva Conference on the

cessation of hostilities in Indochina. A most dangerous

flashpoint of war in South-East Asia was thus eliminated

(though not for long, as it later proved). This major suc-

cess for the cause of peace was the result of consistent and

energetic struggle by the Soviet Union and all peace-loving

forces to get the war in Indochina brought to an end. A

positive part was also played by the contradictions between

Britain and France on the one hand and the USA on the

other. It is the effect of these which explains Eden’s posi-

tion at the Geneva Conference. It was perhaps the most

progressive act on his part among all the manifold diplomat-

ic steps undertaken by Britain in the post-war years. It

served the cause of peace, and that is what gives it immense

significance. It is, at the same time, an exception to the

political rule followed in general by Eden and his govern-

ment.

Time was to show that the British Government did not,

by and large, have a realistic appreciation of the major

processes going on in South-Kast Asia. At the beginning of

September 1954, at Manila in the Philippines, a conference

took place on the initiative of the USA but with Britain’s

very active support, which ended with the signing of the

treaty which brought SEATO into existence. This develop-

ment had, as was mentioned above, been planned most

secretly, in advance. The members of the new military and

aggressive bloc, created for the purpose of struggling against

the revolutionary and national liberation movement in

South-East Asia, were the USA, Britain, France, Australia,

New Zealand, Thailand, the Philippines and Pakistan.

The absence from the conference in Manila of India, Indo-

nesia, Burma and Ceylon was a significant indication of

the imperialist and colonialist nature of the new bloc.

Eden was busy trying to get a re-vamped version of the

l).D.C. off the ground, and he was represented in Manila

by Lord Reading. The positions taken by the British Gov-

272

ernment at the conferences in Geneva and Manila are in

sharp contrast one with the other. Therefore justified was

the statement by the USSR Ministry of Foreign Affairs (is-

sued in connection with the conference in Manila), which

drew attention to the declarations at the Geneva Conference,

made by official British (and French) representatives, that

their governments allegedly sought normalisation of rela-

tions with the peoples of Asia. “Attention is drawn to the

fact,” the statement said, “that some of the participants

in the conference in Manila recently expressed their under-

standing of the national needs of the peoples of Asia... But

it is permissible to ask how those declarations can be made

consistent with participation by Britain and France in an

aggressive military bloc directed against Asian countries?”

By its signature in Manila to the treaty on the defence of

South-East Asia, the British Government made itself

party to acts against the freedom and security of the peo-

ples of that region.

The year 1954 was drawing to a close. Eden was devoting

all his efforts to re-vitalising the E.D.C. project. The Brit-

ish Government was attempting, on its own and leaving

the Americans out of it, to form a new union of states in

the framework of which the FRG would be afforded the

' possibility of re-arming. London’s separate actions reflected

Anglo-American contradictions in Europe, the struggle be-

tween Britain and the USA for the leading role on the

Continent. All in all British diplomacy intended to seize

from the Americans guidance of the military grouping of

European states.

| On September 5, Eden notes, he went to spend the week-

end at his country home in Wiltshire, to think about the

situation as it then was. While in his bath (diplomats con-

ceive new ideas in the oddest places!) he suddenly bethought

himself of using the Brussels Treaty of 1948 on the Western

Alliance for the purpose of bringing the FRG into “the

European family”. The inclusion of the FRG, and of Italy

too, in that alliance would make the FRG a political part

of a united Europe. So far as the military side of things

| was concerned, the FRG must be included in NATO, and

her re-militarisation realised within its framework.

On returning to London on Monday, Eden wrote a minute

for Churchill, asking his permission to undertake an urgent

mission to several European capitals, to sound out the

possibilities for such a plan, and if these were good, to pre-

18—041222 273

pare the ground for an international conference. Having

got the Prime Minister’s sanction, Eden went off to the

Continent, accompanied by only one other person—Frank

Roberts, a specialist on the Soviet Union. It was all done

without any intimation being given to Washington.

The itinerary was planned in such a way as to leave the

most difficult negotiations—those in Paris—to the end;

in that way Eden could bring pressure to bear on the French

Government by telling them that everyone else agreed, they

were the only ones objecting, and that such objections

were likely to leave them in a position of isolation.

The first stop was Brussels, where Eden met his opposite

numbers from Belgium, the Netherlands and Luxemburg.

His notes on this meeting are filled with rapture. His recep-

tion was as good as it could be, the food was excellent, the

British Embassy was beautifully appointed. Eden saw all

around him in a rose-tinged glow, since the Ministers of the

Benelux countries, as he writes, approved the procedure

he suggested. “They thought that a nine-power conference

was an essential preliminary to a full N.A.T.O. meeting”,

and hoped it would take place in London.

Eden wrote in his diary, of the Brussels meeting: “I

found all three Benelux Ministers fully aware of the reali-

ties of the international situation and, in particular, of the

dangers of Germany slipping over to the Russians, and of

America retreating to the peripheral defence of ‘fortress

America’, on which I had spoken to them [my italics—

V. T.).” So the main arguments used by Eden during his

tour of Western European capitals were the threats of

Germany moving closer to the USSR, and of America pull-

ing out of Europe.

From Brussels Eden proceeded to Bonn. Talks with Chan-

cellor Adenauer were more significant and more fundamental.

This time it was Adenauer’s turn to brandish threats. He

said that the youth of Germany saw its hopes for the future

as bound up with Germany’s participation in a united Eu-

rope, and that if these hopes were disappointed, they might

turn to “bad thoughts’. Which being translated meant:

either re-arm the FRG within the concept “European idea”

or the Germans will start thinking of revanche not only as

to the East, but the West too. Eden agreed promptly, and

said that this was one of the motives which had led him to

put forward his present proposals. Adenauer then proceeded

to conjure up the bogey that Eden had been frightening

274

them with in Brussels: “The consequences for Europe as

well as for Germany would be disastrous if Germany fell

within the Soviet orbit, either directly or gradually via

neutralization.”

Adenauer had to get arms for the West German revanchists

at all costs and as soon as possible, and he urged haste

upon the already hastening Eden. The Chancellor agreed that

to admit Germany into NATO would be “the right solu-

tion”, and since this would mean creation of “a German

national army” he was “prepared to accept self-imposed

limitations and ... to put this army into an integrated [Euro-

pean] army, if this became possible later”. Adenauer also

approved of the idea that the FRG and Italy should be

brought into the Western Alliance. He hoped that the

French too would agree to Eden’s outline plan, but noted

that it was an important point for most Frenchmen that

Britain should participate in this alliance “on a footing of

equality with them”. The Chancellor saw the departing guest

off with hopes for the speedy success of his plans.

In Rome Eden met the Italian Minister for Foreign Af-

fairs, Piccioni. The Italian had no objection in principle

to the British Government’s plan, but like the Chancellor

of the FRG remarked that “the more the United Kingdom

engaged itself in assisting a solution, the easier it would

be to find one”. In other words: if you want a new military

organisation, you take part in it the same as everyone else.

Neither in Bonn nor in Rome were they prepared to recog-

nise British claims to a particular position in Europe, and

advised that such claims should be abandoned.

Here too the politely veiled threat was brought into

play. The Italian Minister remarked that “the consolidation

of Europe with the association of the United Kingdom ...

would weaken neutralist tendencies in Italy, which unfortu-

nately had a pro-Russian complexion [my _italics—V.T.]”.

By and large Eden was satisfied with the talks he had

with Italian politicians, and was in a good mood as he got

ready to leave Rome. He was staying in a huge, imposing

but gloomy building, which had been the German Embassy

but was now the British. It boasted a fine garden and a swim-

ming pool. On September 15 Eden was enjoying a dip in the

pool, when he was told that a Secretary of the American

Embassy was there, unexpectedly, to see him. The Amer-

ican handed him a telegram from Dulles, and demanded

an immediate answer.

1g® 275

In Washington they had been watching Eden’s jour-

neyings with mounting indignation. Already he had had

a difference of opinion with Dulles at the Berlin Conference

of Foreign Ministers in February, and had then failed to

agree to Dulles’ plan for “joint action” in Indochina; at the

Geneva Conference the difference between the two Minis-

ters had become even more acute, and now Eden was busy-

ing himself with some arrangement for Europe, clearly

giving no consideration whatever to the US view. A member

of the State Department’s staff, Murphy, left Washington

hastily for the capitals of Western Europe. Murphy’s re-

ports back to Washington must have been alarming enough

to make Dulles decide to fly to Europe himself.

His telegram informed Eden that he was flying to Bonn

and then on to London. Would Eden please see him at once?

That was followed up by violent objections to the inclusion

of the FRG and Italy in the Western Alliance.

This was a heavy blow for Eden. Was Dulles going to

wreck his entire plan? It would seem that at first, in the

heat of the moment, Eden intended to send Dulles a sharp-

ish answer. But the British Ambassador in Rome, Ashley,

and Frank Roberts were able to see this particular issue

more calmly, and advised him not to do that. In the end

Eden contented himself with a short reply that he would

be glad to see Dulles in London and would reply to his

criticisms then.

Eden admits in his Memoirs that he was worried about

the possible results of Dulles’ meeting with Adenauer—

might it not wreck the agreement he himself had reached

with Adenauer. Eden was apprehensive of this sudden visit,

“which had been decided on without prior consultation with

London or with me”. A strange complaint, seeing that he

had not given Washington or Dulles any prior intimation

of his own proceedings.

Lengthy and difficult negotiations awaited Eden in

Paris. He told Mendés-France what his proposals were, and

how they had been received by other Ministers in Europe.

The French Premier did his best not to commit himself

in any way, and confined himself mainly to enquiring

about the details of the talks in Brussels, Bonn and Rome.

Casting diplomatic courtesy aside, Eden told him that

he would prefer to give that account at the forthcoming

conference.

Of course the British Foreign Secretary did all he could,

276

as he himself puts it, “to impress upon MF [Mendés-France]

the real dangers of the situation. French negative policy

would result in driving Germany into the arms of Russia

and U.S. into ‘fortress America’”, i.e. into isolationism.

Mendés-France heard out all these well-worn arguments,

provocative as they were (in the part relating to Russia),

arguments used by British politicians as far back as the

twenties and thirties, and kept up his own refrain: he was

“worried about the safeguards and controls which could

be devised to allay French fears of German rearmament”.

Eden returned to London having won the agreement of

those he had seen to the convocation of a nine-power confer-

ence in London in late September. When he met Dulles, he

expounded his plan for obtaining re-militarisation of Ger-

many, and in the end got his agreement also to the holding

of this conference. Both Foreign Ministers considered it in-

dispensable to re-arm Germany against the USSR, and real-

ised that on this issue their two countries must act together.

This common interest helped them to overcome their dif-

ferences.

On September 27, the day before the conference opened,

Kden gave Churchill a document which was to determine

the position of the British delegation. “If we produce a

workable plan,” Eden wrote, “the Americans are unlikely

to allow it to fail through the lack of the essential Amer-

ican support.” The French would accept “German sovereign-

ty and German membership of N.A.T.O.” only if they got

appropriate guarantees. And further on: “The assurance most

likely to strike French opinion is the continued presence of

British troops in France.” Eden considered that the key to

the success of the conference would be for Britain to make

a new commitment to maintain her present forces on the

Continent, and not to withdraw them against the wishes of

the majority of the enlarged Western Alliance. “I realize

that this would be an unprecedented commitment for the

United Kingdom, but the hard fact is that it is impossible

to organize an effective defence system in Western Europe,

which in turn is essential for the security of the United

Kingdom, without a major British contribution. This situa-

tion will persist for many years to come. By recognizing

this fact and giving the new commitment, we may succeed

in bringing in the Germans and the French together, and

keeping the Americans in Europe. If we do not, the confer-

ence may fail and the Atlantic alliance fall to pieces.”

217

This was Eden’s formulation at the time according to his

Memoirs.

Before the conference opened Fden had had exploratory

talks with the delegates, and come to the conclusion that

without this new commitment by Britain, the conference

would end without results. The British were compelled

to promise what they had so determinedly avoided promis-

ing when the plans for the E.D.C. were being considered —

to participate on an equal footing with everyone else in

that organisation. At the London conference it was agreed

that a further conference should meet in Paris. On Octo-

ber 23, 1954, agreements providing for the re-militarisation

of the FRG were signed in Paris, the signatories being Brit-

ain, the USA, France, Italy, Canada, the FRG, Belgium,

the Netherlands and Luxemburg. This formally established

a military alliance between Britain and the other parties

to the agreements, and the Federal Republic of Germany.

Under the Paris Agreements Britain had to put at the dis-

posal of the NATO Supreme Commander in Europe four

divisions with appropriate tactical air forces, or such forces

as the Supreme Commander might deem equivalent.

The Parliamentary proceedings to get ratification of

the Paris Agreements showed up the discontent felt among

the British people at this policy of re-militarising West

Germany. Forty-two per cent of Members voted for rati-

fication; it was passed only because a very large number of

Members abstained.

The British Government was far from sure that the agree-

ments would be ratified in Paris. But the reactionary forces

in the French Parliament carried the day, and thus the

international agreements on German re-armament were

ratified.

This was on December 29, 1954. “As we saw that New

Year in with this good news,” writes Eden, “I felt we had

reason to be satisfied with our work during the preceding

months... We could now be sure that future negotiations

with the Soviet Union could be conducted from a base of

political and military strength.” This ecstatic exclamation

sums up the whole aim and object of the immense effort he

had devoted, first to organising a European Defence Com-

munity, then to obtaining the Paris Agreements on the re-

militarisation of West Germany.

During Eden’s third term as Foreign Secretary, the speed

and strength of development of national liberation revolu-

278

—— eee

tion dealt a number of heavy blows to British imperialism.

The head of the Foreign Office tried as best he could, by

political and other means, to defend the interests of the

British Empire, but without success. And he was the man

compelled to give political and legal recognition to the

fact of British imperial retreat in the Middle East under

pressure from the peoples’ struggle for liberation. The situa-

tion was complicated by the fact that the USA was

helping to get Britain ejected from Middle Eastern coun-

tries, in the hope of taking in hand her positions there.

The underlying base of Anglo-American conflict was oil,

extracted in Iran and the Arab countries. The advance of

the American monopolies in that area had started in the

years of the Second World War.

At the time when Eden returned to the Foreign Office

Anglo-Iranian relations were extremely strained. For half

a century the Anglo-Iranian Oil Company—a British state

enterprise, enjoying monopoly rights over the extraction

and processing of oil in Iran—had ruled the roost there.

After the Second World War the fight of the Iranian people

against the AIOC had built up year by year. At the same

time the efforts of American oil companies to gain a foot-

hold there also increased.

On May 1, 1954, the Mossadeq Government passed legis-

lation nationalising the AIOC. In his speech on the occa-

sion Mossadeq said that the Iranian people were opening

“a hidden treasure upon which lies a dragon”. But the

“dragon” was by no means prepared to hand the treasure

back to the Iranian people voluntarily.

The British Government tried to bring pressure to bear

on Iran through UNO and the International Court of Justice.

At the same time agents of the AIOC engaged in active sabo-

tage within Iran. London issued threats of military force.

“His Majesty’s Government,” writes Eden, “had moved

land forces and a cruiser to the vicinity of Abadan where

the fate of the largest oil refinery in the world was at stake.

The temptation to intervene ... must have been strong,

but pressure from the United States was vigorous against

any such action.” Actually, however, it was not so much

American objections as the fact that the USSR and other

socialist countries came out against the British intervention-

ist plans. Public opinion in the Arab countries was excited.

The British Government had to beat a retreat.

Monopoly over Iranian oil was at an end for Britain.

279

It was replaced by a special international consortium for

the exploitation of Iran’s oil resources. This consortium

included the AIOC, a number of American oil companies,

the Royal Dutch Shell and a French firm.

In 1954 an agreement was signed in Teheran between the

Tranian Government and the international consortium.

It was more advantageous to Iran than the conditions under

which the AIOC had formerly operated, but the Iranian

people was still not master of its own heritage. The coun-

try’s oil resources still remained in the hands of foreign

monopolies, even if not British ones alone. The years of the

Iranian people’s fight for full economic independence still

lay ahead.

“Now, as a result of events in Iran, Egypt became ebul-

lient,” writes Eden. “The troubles fomented on the Shatt

al Arab,* festered on the Nile.” The Egyptian people’s

fight against the British colonialists had been given immense

impetus by the defeat of fascism in the Second World War

and the Soviet Union’s support for liberation movements.

The actual demand of the Egyptians was for annulment of

the inequitable Anglo-Egyptian treaty of 1936, which

legalised British military occupation of Egypt, continuing

for over six decades. Under this treaty Britain could keep

ten thousand troops in the Suez Canal zone, but in practice

this number was far exceeded, and troops were stationed

at various key points in the country. The treaty also pro-

vided for preserving the Anglo-Egyptian condominium over

the Sudan, which had formerly belonged to Egypt but had

been seized by the British in 1898.

The Egyptian people demanded annulment of the 1936

treaty, and cessation of British military occupation. The

government in London let it be known that it would remain

“firm”, and would use force to defend its “rights”. Armed

clashes occurred between Egyptians and British soldiers. In

March 1947, in order to calm the popular masses, the British

withdrew their units from Cairo and concentrated them

in the Suez Canal zone. But no calm resulted, indeed the

situation became even more critical.

In October 1951, on the eve of the return to power of the

Churchill-Eden Government, the Egyptian Government

declared the 1936 treaty annulled. Three years of obstinate

* A river in southern Iran, in the region of the oil wells and

the Abadan refinery.

280

struggle followed; the British Government sought to get

another treaty, still inequitable, concluded with Egypt,

and the Egyptians demanded the withdrawal of British

troops from their territory, since the annulment of the

1936 treaty had removed the legal justification for their

further presence. Mass demonstrations frequently turned

into armed clashes, the buildings belonging to British

banks, commercial companies and other bodies were set on

fire.

“The Americans, as usual, were all the time pressing us

to come to terms, especially over the Egyptian claim to

sovereignty over the Sudan,” writes Macmillan. American

interference evoked great annoyance in London. On May 6,

1953, Macmillan noted in his diary: “No doubt the Egyp-

tians ... are hoping to get something out of Dulles.”

In Downing Street they realised that a compromise must

be found. But what was it to be? Churchill favoured trying

to reach agreement with the Egyptian Government that

British troops should be withdrawn from the Suez Canal

zone, but that the military base there, which had been built

up and developed over decades, should be available for

immediate use, by the British and the Americans (clearly

a sop to the Americans, this) should the need arise, in other

words, the British would be retaining the right to “re-entry”.

The 1936 treaty had to be given up for lost, which would of

course involve “considerable loss of prestige”. On this last

point there was one crumb of comfort, however—the treaty

would in any case have expired in 1956.

What alternative could there be? To maintain indefinitely

in the canal zone an army eighty thousand strong, surround-

ed by a hostile people? It was immensely expensive to do

that. Even so, there were those in the House of Commons

(and in the government too) who were in favour of applying

these extreme imperialist measures, which had heen effec-

tive in the 19th century but were quite out of step with

the real balance of power in the world at large in the mid-

twenties century.

In the end the Foreign Secretary, helped by his trusty

advisers in the Foreign Office, managed to formulate a plan

for solving the Egyptian problem along the lines of Chur-

chill’s proposals. British troops were to be withdrawn from

the Suez Canal, but the base was to be maintained by civil-

ian personnel under conditions which would enable use of

it in case of war. As Macmillan remarks, through this

281

long controversy the British had been thinking largely in

terms of opposing the Soviet Union.

On October 19, 1954, an Anglo-Egyptian agreement was

signed in Cairo, which provided for the withdrawal of

British troops from the Suez Canal zone. It was a great

triumph for the Egyptian people, and a great defeat for

British imperialism.

The period which began in 1951 was a difficult one for

Eden, and not only because his efforts directed mainly

against the USSR, socialism, and the national liberation

revolution were not attended with success and did not look

like being so for a considerable time to come—on top of

that, he was worried about his own future.

Churchill was an old man now. In 1951 he was 77 years

old. Only a few people knew that two years earlier he had

had a stroke, for he recovered from it and went on to carry

through two election campaigns and the formation of a gov-

ernment. In 1953 he had a second stroke; his left arm and

leg were paralysed, his speech was affected and his face

twisted. Moran was sure that even if his patient recovered,

he could hardly remain Prime Minister. He intended to

issue a medical bulletin to that effect. But Butler and Salis-

bury insisted that the bulletin should be coached in such

terms that no one could tell how serious Churchill’s con-

dition was.

Naturally, the question of resignation arose. But Chur-

chill clung to power with all his failing strength. Since at

that moment Eden was also ill, the Prime Minister’s resigna-

tion would have meant that Butler would head the govern-

ment. Churchill said he would struggle on till the autumn,

when Eden should have recovered, and then hand over the

reins of government to him. So there was no resigna-

tion.

Contrary to the expectations of his doctors and his rela-

tions, Churchill recovered from his second stroke too. His

powers were only partially restored, but he was capable

of chairing Cabinet mectings, and he even made a speech

lasting 50 minutes at the Conservative Party’s annual con-

ference.

Churchill knew that Eden was waiting for him to resign,

that many members of the Cabinet who wanted a strong and

energetic Premier to lead them were also waiting, that his

medical advisers and his wife all insisted he must resign.

But to postpone the evil day he took to inventing excuses

282

why he really could not resign (a favourite one was nego-

tiations with the Soviet Union that he was going to under-

take in person and bring to a triumphant conclusion), and

to naming “final” dates which always got postponed.

On August 24, 1954, Macmillan wrote after yet another

talk with the Prime Minister that “he had many times in

the last few months told Anthony that he was on the point

of ‘handing over’. First he had told him the Queen’s return,

that is May, then he had said July; finally, in a letter, writ-

ten on June 11th (which I had seen), he had categorically

told Eden that he would resign the Premiership in September.

Anyway, what had he now said to Eden?” At this time the

Conservative leader was approaching 80 years of age. To

keep his successor happy, Churchill had the great idea of

making him Deputy Premier and sending Macmillan to

the Foreign Office. This did not appeal to Eden in the least,

and the idea was dropped.

This situation was difficult for Eden in two ways. The

sphere of foreign policy comes within the competence of

both the Foreign Secretary and the Prime Minister. The

head of the Foreign Office needs the advice and support of

the head of government. They are particularly important

to him when grave decisions have to be taken. Churchill,

now sick and aged, was always loyal in his support for

Eden and loved him like a firstborn son, as he frequently

said, but he was not a tower of strength. Besides that, the

continual waiting for a change in his political circumstances

was a heavy burden on Eden’s nervous system. But one

must give Hden credit where it is due—he did not try to

hasten events, and never intrigued against Churchill.

All things come to an end, and so did Eden’s time of

weary waiting. In February 1955 it was made known that

the Prime Minister would retire at the beginning of April.

And in truth, on April 5 Churchill handed his resignation

to the Queen, and the next day she “sent for” Eden and en-

trusted him with the formation of her government. Thus

was Eden’s lifelong dream realised: he held the highest

power in the land.

There was a farewell session of Churchill’s Cabinet, at

which the old man thanked his colleagues for their collabo-

ration. In the House of Commons the Labour leader, Att-

lee, in congratulating Eden on his new post, quoted the well-

known words of Lord Melbourne: “Why, damn it all, such

a position was never held by any Greek or Roman, and if

283

it only lasts three months it will be worth while to have

been Prime Minister of England.”

Lord Melbourne’s words, in Eden’s case, proved, to a cer-

tain measure, to be prophetical. Eden was Prime Minister

of Britain for 24 months only, after which he ingloriously

resigned his premiership and retired from political life in

general.

Chapter VI

FAILURE OF A POLICY,

FAILURE OF A CAREER

“No two men have ever changed guard more smoothly”—

this is Churchill’s description of how Eden took over as Prime

Minister on April 6, 1955.. These were inaccurate words.

For the changing of the guard at 10 Downing Street had been

preceded by three years of scuffling behind the scenes, with

everyone else thinking it was time for Churchill to hand over

and the old man not wanting to relinquish power. There

were other candidates besides Eden, too. Barbara Castle,

a prominent Labour woman, enquired rhetorically apropos

of those days: “Have you any idea how much Butler and Eden

watch each other for the succession to dead men’s shoes?”

It was only because everything had already been weighed up,

sorted out and settled, in the course of this prolonged activ-

ity behind the scenes, that the actual change-over of Prime

Ministers took place without any obvious jockeying for po-

sition. Another contributory factor was a print-workers’

strike, which meant that the London papers did not appear

for a time. So the changes at the top did not get the pub-

licity customary in such cases.

In the thirties Eden had been one of the youngest Minis-

ters ever appointed, as we noted in a previous chapter. But

in the spring of 1955 he was already 58 years old—a respect-

able age even by English political standards. It is a fact

that in Britain senior statesmen are highly valued, the

argument being that years of political activity have fur-

nished them with wisdom and experience. André Maurois in

his biography of Disraeli remarked that “old age is general-

ly an advantage to a politician, and in England particular-

ly so... The English love old statesmen, worn and polished

by much struggle, just as they love old leather and old

wood.”

The British press gave its unanimous approval to Eden’s

assumption of the highest office. “It is fortunate for Britain,”

said the Yorkshire Post, “that there exists to succeed Sir

285

Winston a leader who is a world statesman in his own right...

The prestige and fortunes of Britain remain in safe hands.”

And the next day’s number of the same paper went on:

“Because of his outstanding success as Foreign Secretary,

some people have asked whether he has the gifts of a good

Prime Minister. Such questionings are unintelligent. He will

command respect in the Cabinet room, in the House and in

the country.” While the semi-official Conservative Daily

Telegraph declared that “training, knowledge and courage

are in high degree the unquestionable assets of our new Prime

Minister”.

The Manchester Guardian gave as its opinion that “power

will probably be distributed in the new Government between

a quadrumvirate consisting of Sir Anthony Eden, Mr.

R. A. Butler, Mr. Harold Macmillan, and Lord Salisbury:

and the new Prime Minister, to begin with at any rate, may

only be first among equals.”

There were naturally, though much to Eden’s annoyance,

comparisons made in the press between himself and Chur-

chill, with efforts being made to discover virtues in the new

Prime Minister that the old one had lacked. “Sir Anthony

is no doubt a much lesser man than Sir Winston,” said the

Sunday Dispatch. “But he may, despite, or even because of

that, very likely prove a better Prime Minister for this day

and age... Above all, Sir Anthony possesses the quality that

Sir Winston lacks—that of making the diplomacy and ac-

tions of his country cease to be objects of hatred and suspicion

among Asians, Arabs and Africans.”

All these positive traits of Eden’s were deduced by the

press from the totally false image of him which it had itself

created. As often happens in politics, people fell victim to

their own propaganda. Before long the true likeness of the

new Prime Minister was to be fully revealed to the peoples

of Asia and Africa, and to his fellow-countrymen. But it

took a year for that to happen.

Eden’s first task on becoming head of government was to

re-organise the Cabinet to his liking. At the same time he

had to settle the matter of when a General Election should be

held. It was true that the Conservatives had a majority, even

if a small one, in the existing House of Commons, and that

the full Parliamentary term had still eighteen months to run.

But there could be no certainty that in eighteen months’

time circumstances would be more favourable for the Conser-

vative Party.

286

In the spring of 1955 the economic situation was tolerably

good, and that is very important at election times. Besides

which Eden, now Conservative leader, had a few months pre-

viously enjoyed a great personal triumph: in Geneva he had

been personally involved in the conference which had brought

the war in Indochina to an end, and at practically the

same time he had brought off the conclusion of the agreements

whereby West Germany was to be re-armed. For performing

this last “service” Eden was lauded to the skies by all the

voices of reaction. The Queen awarded him the highest honour

available, making him a Knight of the Garter. This made

him Sir Anthony, and his wife Lady Eden. While the part

he had played in Geneva gave him popularity among all

who wanted to see a relaxation of international tension,

i.e. the broad mass of voters. So the temptation was very

great for the Conservatives to cash in on all these favourable

circumstances, hold a General Election early, and assure

themselves of a five-year mandate to govern.

Yet neither Eden nor his colleagues were fully confident

of victory. But they decided to risk it. On the advice of the

Prime Minister the Queen dissolved Parliament and fixed

the date of the election as May 26. This decision meant that

Cabinet changes could be kept to a minimum, leaving major

changes till after the election.

First among the minimum changes was the need to find

a suitable incumbent for the Foreign Office. The candidate

whom Eden would most have liked to see there was Mar-

| quess Salisbury. The two were great friends, and had the

same political sympathies. Eden very much wanted to see

| his friend succeed him at the Foreign Office, but Salisbury

| was a Marquess and in the 20th century the appointment

| of titled persons to responsible government posts is not popu-

lar with the masses, and British ruling circles, anxious to

| “democratise” the facade of their imperialist state, have to

take that into account. This proved an obstacle to Eden’s

hopes. Salisbury had to be content with the second-rank port-

| folio of Lord President of the Council.

It was Harold Macmillan who became the new Foreign

Secretary. He was a man of Eden’s generation, he had

been in both the Churchill governments, and had connec-

tions in the world of big business publishing. The new head

of the Foreign Office was fully tried and trustworthy politi-

cally, and there were no differences of principle between him

and Eden.

287

“Every Cabinet needs its counsellors ... who can be relied

upon,” wrote Eden. No doubt it was with this in mind that

he brought into the Cabinet as Secretary for Commonwealth

Relations Sir Alex Douglas Home, a well-known supporter

of “appeasement” of fascism, who had accompanied Neville

Chamberlain to Munich in 1938. Sir Alex Douglas Home

could boast an enviably consistent record: he had never dis-

associated himself from the policy of “appeasement”, had

always continued to consider it correct, and only regretted

that it had not worked. One may reasonably ask, why did

Eden make Home a member of his Cabinet? Might it not be

that the policy of re-arming West Germany and opposing

her to the Soviet Union was not so very different from the

policy of Neville Chamberlain?

Another old Munichite, Sir [vone Kirkpatrick, was con-

firmed by Eden as Permanent Under-Secretary at the For-

eign Office, a key position in which he would be able, in

the normal course of his duties, to guide and direct Mac-

millan. “I felt that his active and fertile mind,” says Eden,

“would team well with the high quality of Foreign Office

leadership under Sir Ivone Kirkpatrick.”

But for the time being all the efforts of the Eden Govern-

ment and of the Conservative Party were bent on securing

victory in the elections. Urgent measures were set on foot

with this in mind, in both home and foreign policy.

The Conservative leaders feared a possible defeat. “No

one can tell how this election will turn out,” reads an entry in

Macmillan’s diary. But the Tories did not manage to think

up anything very original to swing the votes their way.

Eden’s Government, like so many of its predecessors, threw

economic sops to the working people and the petty bourgeoi-

sie. But the main vote—catching operation was to be in the

field of foreign policy. The questions of war and peace were

very acute in 1955. The desire for detente was strong among

the mass of the people. The Labour Party, in its contest

with the Conservatives, made effective use of the fact that

Churchill and his associates came out as instigators of anoth-

er world war. In an attempt to persuade the ordinary Brit-

on that such was not the case, Churchill repeatedly spoke

of his readiness to hold high-level talks with the Soviet

Union. And these declarations were made in terms giving

the voters to understand that if anyone was capable of reach-

ing agreement with the Soviet Government, it could only

be the Conservatives. In actual fact, of course, they had

288

not the least. intention of calling a halt to the cold

war.

As far back as the spring of 1954 decision had been reached

in London that an iniliative should be taken in calling a con-

ference of the heads of state of Britain, the USA, France and

the USSR, “for the purpose of considering anew the problem

of the reduction and control of armaments and of devising

positive policies and means for removing from all the peoples

of the world the fear which now oppresses them”. But by the

spring of 1955, as Macmillan notes, “nothing had yet been

done”. And the British people anxiously awaited deeds which

would free them from the threat of another world war.

In this situation the Eden Government decided to utilise

popular alarm at the state of the world for their own ends.

The Foreign Office displayed, as ostentatiously as possible,

initiative in the direction of getting a Summit conference held.

A sticky problem was posed by the Americans, who overt-

ly did not want such a meeting. But, as Kirkpatrick remarked

to Macmillan, the US President would probably not be

“excessively annoyed” at the Prime Minister saying he was

in favour of a Summit meeting, “since the Americans are

adjusted to the idea that even the best of friends must embar-

rass one another for electoral reisons”.

Eden and Macmillan both made utterances calculated to

rouse hopes that a Summit conference would meet soon. It

was spoken of in terms intended to leave no doubt that this

would be a meeting like those at Yalta and Potsdam in 1945,

This in turn meant that expectations were aroused of great

decisions being taken when the leaders of the USSR were

met. Churchill could raise such hopes without worrying:

he knew that his days in politics were numbered. But Eden

and Macmillan had to be more circumspect. They knew very

well that no “final solution” would be found through a con-

ference with Soviet representatives, for the ruling circles of

Britain and the US did not want agreement on equal terms

and to mutual advantage between themselves and the USSR.

Consequently, some time after the Summit meeting had take

en place that fact was going to become obvious to the British

people, and they would put the blame on Eden and his party.

By way of ensurance against that happening, the British

Government altered the previously existing concept of a

Summit meeting. As history then knew them, they were

fairly brief meetings between leaders, the latter having full

powers of decision on major problems in international rela-

19-01222 289

le ew Ne

tions and actually taking decisions on them. Efficiency and

results had been the characteristic features of such meetings,

In the spring of 1955 Eden and Macmillan brought forth the

idea of turning the coming conference into the very antithe-

sis of those previous meetings—into a conference, not bound

to reach any final decisions, which would be only an introduc-

tion to an endless series of other conferences, the eventual

outcome of which could not be foreseen, and which could at

any moment be broken off. “I had now to promote,” writes

Macmillan, “the concept of a prolonged period of negotia-

tion, perhaps over years and even generations, rather than a

single meeting which would almost certainly fail.” This con-

cept promised a reliable means of befogging the peoples,

and had a chance of gaining American approval. Eden sent

President Eisenhower a telegram setting out the British

concept of a Summit meeting.

On May 7, 1955, Macmillan talked in Paris with the US

Secretary of State, Dulles, and persuaded him to agree to a

Summit meeting, new British style. “Eden and I,” say Mac-

millan’s Memoirs, “were very anxious that this plan should

be considered,” since it was “a practical approach to the prob-

lems before us’. But the main thing was, Macmillan empha-

sises, that “it would, of course, help us in our election stunt”.

The American historian, Fleming, holds that “the one thing

which could easily defeat Eden was popular frustration over

the long delay in meeting the Russians at the summit”.

Eisenhower and Dulles were reluctant to support the idea

of a Summit meeting. But as they were anxious to help the

Conservatives, they did allow themselves to be associated

with the proposal that one should be held. On May 29, 1955,

it was said in the American press that Dulles had only let

himself be saddled with such a conference because Eden

grossly feared losing the General Election.

At the very last moment of Macmillan’s negotiations with

Dulles in Paris, the Americans tried to get “partial involve-

ment” in the conference by themselves accepted. Macmillan

records in his diary: “(Dulles) asked me whether I would

think it would do if the Vice-President came instead of the

President. Thinking this was a joke, I told him of the famous

music-hall joke. ‘Poor Mrs. Jones, what a terrible thing

has happened to her!’ ‘What has happened to her?...” “Why,

she had two fine sons. One of them went down in the “Tita-

nic”, the other became Vice-President of the United States.

Neither of them was ever heard of again.’ ... Foster Dulles

230

put on a look of saying ‘We are not amused’.” Later Dulles

said, Macmillan continues, “I guess poor Nixon* wouldn’t

like that.” But the British side, for whom the official fa-

gade of the coming conference was the main thing, could not

agree to Nixon attending in place of Eisenhower.

As for the Soviet Government, it readily agreed to high-

level talks with Britain and the USA, hoping through them

to achieve some relaxation in the international tension. It

was Moscow that the initiative actually belonged to in con-

ducting the talks to improve the international atmosphere and

discuss the controversial issues that aggravated it.

On May 11 the announcement was made that there would

shortly be a high-level meeting between representatives of

the USSR, Britain, the USA and France. That part of the

British press which backed the Conservatives began to exag-

gerate the significance of this announcement out of all pro-

portion, the election campaign being then in full swing.

Macmillan reminisces: “I had perhaps been able to give more

important help by the arrangement for the top-level meeting

than by any speeches that I could have delivered, however

eloquent.”

The election of May 26, 1955, brought victory for the Con-

servatives. The action taken by the Eden-Macmillan-Butler

Government, both at home and abroad, was not the only fac-

tor that helped to make this possible. The Labour leaders

had no radical campaigning platform to rouse a sympathetic

response from the voters. Their programme in essentials was

no different from that of their opponents.

The Conservatives were further assisted by a split in the

upper ranks of the Labour Party. At that time the right-wing

leaders were conducting a savage witch-hunt against those

on the left wing of the party who opposed the arms race and

the re-militarisation of the FRG. As a result of this, some pa-

tty activists took no part in the election campaign, and

many rank-and-file Labour supporters did not use their votes.

The Conservatives obtained an absolute majority in the

tlouse of Commons: 344 seats as against 277 for Labour. Their

Parliamentary position was thus made stronger, and Eden’s

Government could feel their hands to some extent free.

How did that government propose to make use of the op-

portunities thus given them? Recalling his early days as

Prime Minister, Eden notes: “I was clear what I wanted to

* Richard Nixon at that time was Vice-President.

291

do. Abroad, I foresaw a growing communist ambition and

wished the free world to find a closer unity in every conti-

nent to meet it. At home, | believed that a property-owning

democracy could be encouraged to grow and that it fitted

the national character as Socialism did not.” A clear-cut

programme, then: a fight against communism on a world

scale, and opposition to the labour movement in Britain by

attempting to reconcile class interests and smooth over class

contradictions as far as possible.

The concept of “a property-owning democracy” was aimed

not only at inducing the workers to refrain from fighting the

employers, in return for the tempting prospect of personal

enrichment. Eden’s scheme of things was in antithesis to the

Labour programme, which envisaged further nationalisation

of industry. Conservative propaganda told the working peo-

ple that nationalisation, making industry the property of

the state, was no use to them, that it was a much more profit-

able and reliable way forward for them to become co-owners

of industrial enterprises. They were to own the plants and fac-

tories where they worked, not through the state, but direct-

ly, by acquiring shares and getting a portion of the profits.

“If we (the Conservatives) were to improve our position,”

writes Eden, “J must in particular get my message to the bet-

ter skilled industrial worker, who could be expected to bene-

fit most from the kind of society we wanted to create.” The

rallying cry of “Get rich!” was addressed mainly to the work-

ing-class aristocracy.

Apart from the general concept of “a property-owning demo-

cracy”, though, the election campaign of 1955 was required

to have in it details of specific measures which would offer

a prospect of better conditions for the masses as from the

day after the Conservatives were returned to power. So Eden

in his election speeches promised to modernise and re-equip

railways, to reconstruct and develop the road system; to

“press ahead with the building of more houses and more

schools”; to carry through a “hospital building programme”

and to launch the “onslaught on slum clearance”; “to provide

another million new school places in the next five years and

to improve existing school buildings and equipment”; to

carry out a “progressive social policy”. “Our task is not

complete,” Eden told the electorate. “Much remains to do.

I ask you to renew our mandate to work for peace abroad

and the creation of a property-owning democracy at

home.”

292

The Conservatives’ mandate was renewed, and the months

immediately following were to show how far removed from

the promises given to the electorate the real policy of the Eden

Government was, both at home and abroad.

The Conservative Government, headed first by Churchill

and later, from May 1955 on, by Eden, was operating under

complicated conditions: class contradictions were becoming

sharper and the class struggle was building up within the

country. By the beginning of the fifties the right-wing Labour

leaders, who were in power from 1945 to 1951, had complet-

ed a period of political reforms within Britain. Then, when

ruling circles felt that the danger of fierce class battles—

sparked off by the popular swing to the left in the course of

the fight against fascism—had passed, the Labour Govern-

ment went over to policy of limiting so far as possible the

beneficial effects for working people which the previous reforms

had produced.

“Having “worked over” the masses ideologically on a wide

scale, and having burdened Britain with participation in anti-

communist, anti-Soviet military blocs, the Labour Gov-

ernment set about re-arming the country in accord with

NATO’s aggressive plans. It set an arms race on foot, allo-

cating in July 1950 the first, relatively modest sum for that

purpose — £100 million. But only one month later a re-ar-

mament programme was announced which would cost

£ 3,400 million, and in January 1951 this was raised to

£ 4,700 million, for a three-year re-armament programme.

The change from concessions to the workers towards

encroachments on their living standards executed by the Att-

lee Government provided a stimulus to class struggle,

which found expression in the growing number of strikes.

For Eden, who had all his life devoted his whole atten-

tion to matters of foreign policy, it was an unaccustomed and

unpleasant task to cope with the country’s internal problems.

But the Prime Minister had no choice but to do it. “From

the moment of my arrival in Downing Street,” he writes, “a

series of strikes took all my attention.” A print-workers’ strike

had commenced when Churchill was still in office, and

was still in progress when Eden came in. And there was a

threat of strike action by railwaymen and dockers, which

could paralyse the economic life of the country.

At election meetings Eden had been campaigning for “a

property-owning democracy”, calling on the workers to en-

deavour to become capitalists; on returning to London from

293

his constituency the morning after voting took place, he was

busy thinking about how to crush the railwaymen’s and dock-

ers’ strike that had begun. Four days later, a state of emer-

gency was proclaimed. This meant that the British constitu-

tion was in abeyance and that the government was empow-

ered to make all regulations necessary, including bringing

in the troops, against the strikers. Thus the very first days

in power of Eden’s Cabinet were marked by measures of such

a reactionary nature that even Conservatives only have re-

course to them in extremity. So much for Eden’s “democra-

cy” so far as workers were concerned.

Before long the British working people encountered an-

other aspect of that “democracy”. On the eve of the election

the Conservatives had made some concessions, though these

were small, in the Budget. Five months later, in October

1955, the government brought in a supplementary Budget

which not only cancelled the concessions made in spring, but

embodied measures which would bring down living stan-

dards for working people quite considerably.

Another three months on, and it transpired that even these

economic sacrifices by the workers were “not enough”.

In February 1956 the government put through a number of

“measures against inflation”, which bore most hardly upon

the working class. The regular annual Budget, in April 1956,

put up the taxes on consumer goods.

These actions by the government aroused indignation

among the broad masses of the people. Things had so fallen

out that the government had not been able to accompany these

measures by any others, however superficial, which might

have been popular and have retained the psychological bal-

ance in their favour. By the beginning of 1956 discontent

with the government was very definite, and growing month

by month. A great deal of the odium, naturally, fell upon the

Prime Minister. Hopes that Eden would be “a good Prime

Minister” had evaporated pretty quickly, and by now

no one believed it any more.

At the end of 1955 Eden made some changes in his govern-

ment. Butler was replaced as Chancellor of the Exchequer by

Macmillan, and the latter’s successor at the Foreign Of-

fice was Selwyn Lloyd.

So far as seniority in the Conservative hierarchy was con-

cerned, Macmillan was entirely suitable as Chancellor of

the Exchequer. But Eden had other reasons too. The Prime

Minister wanted someone at the Foreign Office who was

294

‘

emt «~

rather more accommodating and would raise no objection to

Eden’s continual interventions in matters of foreign policy.

Macmillan had wanted to be master in his own Ministry;

he did not like being supervised all the time by Eden. Al-

together, the changes in the composition of the government

bore out the rumours of friction and disagreement among its

members, although Eden strenuously denied these.

Eden’s reputation in the eyes of the British people was

also considerably damaged by the fact that he was largely

responsible for the annulment of the Anglo-Soviet treaty of

alliance in the war and cooperation thereafter, which he had

himself signed in 1942 as operative for aterm of twenty years.

Of course the Attlee-Bevin Labour Government had done

a lot to torpedo the allied relationship between Britain and

the USSR which had been brought into being in the course

of the war against the common enemy. But it was Eden, as

Foreign Secretary in the Churchill Government, who com-

pleted the ill-omened work. He devoted immense pains to

bringing West Germany into NATO—a military and politi-

cal aggressive bloc directed against the Soviet Union and

the other socialist states, and to organising West Germany's

re-militarisation. It was under the Conservative Government

of Churchill and Eden that Britain and the Federal Republic

of Germany united in a military alliance within the frame-

work of NATO. This was in direct contravention of the An-

glo-Soviet treaty, which bound both sides to take no part in

blocs or coalitions directed against either party.

The Soviet Government, having been given convincing

proof that Eden’s arrival in Downing Street would not bring

any change in the British Government’s line towards the

USSR, submitted for consideration by the Supreme Soviet

Presidium the proposal that the Anglo-Soviet treaty of 1942

be annulled.

On May 7, 1955, the Presidium of the USSR Supreme So-

viet passed a decree which noted that the Soviet Union had

consistently sought to maintain and consolidate the Anglo-

Soviet treaty, being guided by the conviction that that trea-

ty, with the collaboration in battle of the British and So-

viet peoples behind it, was in the interests of the security of

both states, and that the preservation and development of

friendly Anglo-Soviet relations was an important pre-condi-

tion for the peace and security of Europe; but that Britain,

contrary to the obligations assumed by her under the treaty,

had become a party to the Paris Agreements, which had led

295

to a renewal of German militarism, and had entered into a

military alliance with West Germany which was directed

against the USSR. Inasmuch as the British Government had

directly contravened its obligations under the Anglo-So-

viet treaty and had thereby in fact rendered it null and void,

the Presidium of the Supreme Soviet had decreed “to annul,

as having become invalid, the Treaty between the Union of

Soviet Socialist Republics and the United Kingdom of Great

Britain of Alliance in the War Against Hitlerite Germa-

ny and Her Associates in Europe and of Collaboration and

Mutual Assistance Thereafter, of May 26, 1942”.

To counter the imperialist policy of splitting Europe into

antagonistic military blocs, the socialist countries advanced

the idea of creating a system of collective security. The West-

ern powers refused. Under these conditions, the socialist

countries found themselves obliged to take further measures

for their own security. On May 14, 1955, they concluded the

Warsaw Treaty of Friendship, Cooperation and Mutual As-

sistance—a treaty that is defensive in nature. This treaty was

a response to the growing danger of a new world war, and

to the threat by then existing to the national sovereignty

of the peace-loving states.

The Warsaw Treaty was an important step in the consoli-

dation of the forces of the socialist states in their opposition

to the world of capitalism. The balance of forces, as between

socialism and capitalism, was continually shifting to the

advantage of socialism.

Ten years had passed since the end of the Second World

War. Britain and the USA had used those ten years to un-

leash a cold war against the Soviet Union and, employing the

threat of using the atomic weapons which they had been

stockpiling, to try and force the USSR to capitulate.

As soon as atomic weapons had been produced, the leaders

of the Conservative Party declared their firm intention of

using them in the confrontation against the Soviet Union.

This most important fact is attested by numerous published

documents.

Field-Marshal Alanbrooke, Chief of the Imperial General

Staff and an intimate of Churchill’s during the war, has re-

corded in his Memoirs how the head of the British Govern-

ment reacted in July 1945 to Truman’s message about the

successful testing of an atomic bomb. Churchill, he says,

“let himself be carried away by the very first and rather scan-

ty reports of the first atomic explosion. He was already see-

296

}

ing himself capable of eliminating all the Russian centres of

industry without taking into account any of the connected

problems, such as delivery of the bombs, production of the

bombs, possibility of Russians also possessing such bombs,

etc. He had at once painted a wonderful picture of himself

as the sole possessor of these bombs and capable of dumping

them where he wished, thus all-powerful and capable of dic-

tating to Stalin.”

To dictate the imperialist powers’ conditions to the So-

viet Union, and compel it to accept them, strength was

needed. The kernel of that strength, in the opinion of the

imperialist leaders, was to be atomic weaponry (and later

hydrogen too). As the American researcher Andrew J. Pierre

notes: “Churchill, Eden and Macmillan called for a policy

of firmness and strength for the West and specifically for

Britain. The stronger the nation, the greater her influence

in international politics and the more conciliatory the Rus-

sians would be.”

In Washington policy towards the Soviet Union was for-

mulated in the autumn of 1946 in what has come to be known

as the Clifford memorandum, which US authors describe as

“a fundamentally important American state paper... It

charted the postwar prospect [for American policy — V.T.]

with startling prescience.” “These are statements of the for-

eign-policy principles, with particular bearing on the

U.S.S.R., that Truman took as his guide,” writes the US

historian Arthur Krock.

The memorandum starts from the premise that peaceful

coexistence of communist and bourgeois states is impossi-

ble. “The language of military power” is in their opinion the

only language in which to address the Soviet Government.

“The Soviet Union’s vulnerability is limited,” announced

the memorandum, “due to the vast area over which its key

industries and natural resources are widely dispersed, but it

is vulnerable to atomic weapons, biological warfare, and

long-range air power. Therefore, in order to maintain our

strength at a level which will be effective in restraining the

Soviet Union, the United States must be prepared to wage

atomic and biological warfare... A war with the U.S.S.R.

would be ‘total’ in a more terrific sense than any previous

war.

That was the programme envisaged by imperialist circles:

either they would succeed in “restraining” the Soviet Union

by threat of force, or they might have to go as far as making

297

war upon it—atomic and biological warfare. The American

strategists had allowed a certain gleam of realism to creep

in when they granted the possibility of the Soviet Union also

acquiring weapons of mass destruction. In that case, they

reckoned, it would be wiser to refrain from unleashing “total”

war against the USSR. “Whether it would actually be in this

country’s interest,” the memorandumstated, “to employ atom-

ic and biological weapons against the Soviet Unionin the

event of hostilities is a question that would require careful

consideration... The decision would probably be influenced

by a number of factors, such as the Soviet Union’s capacity

to employ similar weapons, which cannot now be estimated.”

This memorandum was prepared not for propaganda pur-

poses, but for “internal use”, so its authors did not employ

talk of the “Soviet threat”, so habitual an expression for the

imperialist propaganda machine. A most significant circum-

stance. It is also interesting that President Truman in his

day considered that the USSR did not want conflict with the

USA. “At no time did Truman believe the Soviets would go

to war with the United States,” says Krock.

British policy and strategy over the first post-war decade

coincided completely with those of America. Naturally

enough, since the alliance with the US was the keystone of the

arch in British foreign policy. True, to begin with they were

in no hurry in Britain to start producing nuclear weapons.

They were short of the material resources for this, and hopes

were strong that the Americans would eventually part with

the secret of the atomic bomb, which British scientists had

largely helped them to discover. Besides, in case of war the

atomic potential of the USA would surely be on the side of

the British, thanks to their status as allies. And lastly, the

politicians in London, whether Labour or Conservative in

allegiance, were filled with unshakeable confidence that ~

the USSR—which they viewed as the enemy—should it ever

finally acquire atomic weapons, would take a very long time

to do so.

Then suddenly, in August 1949, Western technical de-

vices detected an atomic explosion in the Soviet Union. “The

rapidity of Soviet atomic development had come as a sur-

prise in London and Washington,” A. J. Pierre notes. &

Immediately following its own development of the atom-

ic weapon, the Soviet Union advanced the demand that

production and use of such weapons should be banned. It

continued to make insistent demands to that effect even after

298

the atomic bomb had been placed at the disposal of the So-

viet armed forces. The position of the USSR received ever-

increasing support from public opinion in other countries.

Britain was no exception.

For this reason, when the Labour Government under Attlee

finally decided to set in motion work on production of a Brit-

ish atomic bomb, it concealed that decision from the people

and from Parliament. The work proceeded under conditions

of the deepest secrecy. Parliament ratified the assignation of

large sums under the subhead of “Public Buildings in Great

Britain”, little suspecting what this hid.

How is this deception of Parliament to be explained?

The existence of atomic weapons in the Soviet Union re-

moved any need for secrecy, and the Conservatives’ readiness

to support the arms race meant that allocation of money for

this purpose would be sure of Parliamentary approval. So

the need to keep the atomic weapon programme a secret from

the people was the only possible explanation of the Labour

Government’s behaviour, so sharply at variance with its

protestations of respect for the will of the people as expressed

through Parliament, for British democracy, etc., etc.

‘The Churchill-Eden Government speeded up work on atom-

ic weaponry. To begin with this was a question of prestige.

Conservative politicians hoped that Britain, once in posses-

sion of its own atomic bomb, would be able to restore its

former status as a Great Power. Some optimists even dreamed

of attaining the status of a super-power by this means.

The reliance placed on atomic weapons logically brought

British ruling circles to the readiness to be first to deliver

an atomic blow. Macmillan, during his spell as Minister of

Defence, noted in his diary on November 25, 1954: “It is

quite impossible to arm our forces with two sets of weapons—

conventional and unconventional... This means that if the

Russians attacked... with conventional weapons only ...

we should be forced into the position of starting [my ital-

ics—V.7.] the nuclear war.”

On October 3, 1952, the first British atomic bomb was ex-

ploded off the Monte Bello Islands. This was three years

after similar tests had taken place in the Soviet Union. Brit-

ain had been able to solve this complex scientific and techno-

logical problem on her own. But her government was inca-

pable of producing a correct assessment of the situation. Am-

ple evidence of that is offered by a Cabinet document of

1952 known as the “Global Strategy Paper”.

299

The plan was the logical outcome of a number of military

and economic measures already taken. Immediately after

the end of the Second World War, the Chiefs of Staff had

taken it as axiomatic that there would be “ten years without

war”. But in 1950, after the conclusion of the Western Alli-

ance and the North Atlantic pact, the British Government

reviewed this principle and began to base its military plan-

ning on the assumption that a major war might break out in

two or three years’ time.

The Conservatives, taking over from Labour, realised that

the country’s economy might collapse under the burden of

huge military expenditure, and extended the term within

which the already existing three-year programme, adopted

by the Labourites, was to be carried out.

But so far as the essence of the matter was concerned, it

was the Churchill-Eden Conservative Government which

set the war preparations machine in operation at full throt-

tle, and which formulated the strategic plan which provided

the guidelines for them and for their sugcessors for many

years to come.

In the spring of 1952 the government commissioned the

Chiefs of Staff to prepare a fundamental analysis of Britain’s

strategic capabilities and tasks, taking into account the spe-

cific conditions as then prevailing: the role of nuclear weap-

ons, the existence of NATO,and the state of the British

economy.

The “Global Strategy Paper” envisaged that, firstly, Brit-

ain and her allies must prepare for war against the Soviet

Union, and secondly, that inasmuch as nuclear weapons had

revolutionised the technical character of war, they should

use them first. Of course the preparations for nuclear war

upon the USSR had to be camouflaged with the false prem-

ise of possible “Soviet aggression’—this premise was stated

even in the document itself that was not meant for

publication.

The essence of the Paper’s plan lay, in A. J. Pierre’s es-

timation, in the fact that military operations were not to

be confined to any local seat of conflict—a massive nuclear

strike was to be directed upon the central areas of Russia.

The American historian, Rosecrance, has this comment on

Britain’s global strategy: “The nuclear strength of the Unit-

ed States was already very great; in a war the Strategic

Air Command would be able to destroy the Soviet Union as

an industrial power.”

oon...

300

Just as Churchill's Fulton speech had affected the formu-

lation of imperialism’s political strategy, so the “Global

Strategy Paper” had a strong impact upon the evolution of

the West’s strategic doctrine. It made Britain the first coun-

try to base its military planning almost completely upon

the use of nuclear weapons. It has been stated that this Paper

influenced the United States and helped to produce a “New

Look” military policy during Eisenhower's presidency. This

“New Look” in many ways reiterated the ideas of the “Glo-

bal Strategy Paper’. One American author, Samuel P.

Huntington, writes that “changes in American military poli-

cy often came two or three years after changes in British

military policy. The New Look originated with Churchill

and the British Chiefs of Staff in 1951 and 1952; it became

American policy in 1953 and 1954.”

Imperialist designs of this kind, pregnant with the most

disastrous consequences for the whole of humanity, show

up particularly clearly the progressive import of the Soviet

people’s constructive efforts and of the Soviet Union’s peace-

loving foreign policy, which had barred the way to practical

realisation of these disastrous plans.

The success of Soviet scientists, technologists and workers

in solving the problem of atomic and hydrogen weapons, and

missile delivery vehicles was of immense historic importance.

The making in the USSR of atomic, and by 1953 of hydro-

gen weapons radically altered the world balance of power

in favour of socialism. The monopoly on atomic weapons

which the USA had temporarily possessed and which pro-

vided the basis for the calculations behind Churchill’s speech

‘ at Fulton, and behind the “Clifford memorandum”, and

behind the “Global Strategy Paper”, now no longer existed.

| The USSR had succeeded in putting the latest achievements

of the scientific and technological revolution in the military

| sphere at the service of the defence of the camp of socialism

' and democracy. This made Soviet foreign policy very much

more effective and made for the influence which it exerted

| on the subsequent development of international relations.

History has marked a gross miscalculation of the mili-

| tary and politicians of Britain. In 1950 they were expecting

a major war within two or three years. But thanks to the

efforts of the Soviet Union and the other socialist countries,

humanity has been able to avoid such a disaster for several

decades.

It is a characteristic trait of the years since the Second

304

World War that society at large has shown itself able to

perceive new phenomena in the political and social develop-

ment of humanity, able to “catch on” with them more quick-

ly and more clearly than the ruling circles of bourgeois states

have been. And this refers to the government of Britain

more than to any other one. In the mid-fifties it was unable

to realise fully that the changed balance of power made real-

isation of their “global strategy” plan impossible, that the

impact of the Soviet Union’s peace-loving foreign policy

was growing and would continue to grow, and that capital-

ist governments were going to have to take account increas-

ingly of the opinions of the broad masses of the people. In

the spring and summer of 1955 the working people of Brit-

ain, the USA and other countries were demanding ever more

insistently of their governments that the latter should reach

agreement with the Soviet Union and avert another world

war, which would inevitably have turned into a nuclear

catastrophe.

By this time the popular movement of resistance to the

threat of a new war had reached sweeping dimensions. The

peace movement was joined by social groupings that had

previously remained neutral. On July 10, 1955, a group of

scientists and public men with world-famous names — Al-

bert Einstein, Bertrand Russell, Joliot-Curie, and six

others—published an appeal to the nations and their govern-

ments to “remember their duty to humanity and forget every-

thing else”. The duty referred to being of course that of

averting a war of annihilation.

Popular pressure on the British and US Governments was

particularly strong in 1955. The New York Times noted on

July 10 that the agreement by the White House to take part

in the forthcoming Summit conference “reflected the tre-

mendous pressure of public opinion”. At the opening of the

conference President Eisenhower said: “We are here in re-

sponse to a universal urge.”

The British Government too was unable to ignore this

pressure from the mass of the people. It had at the same time

to take cognisance of the fact that the Soviet Union had at

its disposal the most up-to-date means of defence, which

would make aggression against it mortally dangerous for

the aggressor. Even such a dyed-in-the-wool warmonger as

Winston Churchill felt impelled to say in the spring of

1955: “Thus we have only a short time in which to make

peace with each other — or to make our peace with God.”

302

Such glimmerings of realism, even if they came rather late

in the day, helped to get the British Government to sit

down at the negotiating table. Another factor working in

the same direction was the growing realisation on the part

of the Western powers, who had started the cold war, that

they were suffering defeat in it. In November 1954 Macmil-

lan recorded in his diary: “‘Cold War’ alarms me more than

‘Hot War’. For we are not really winning it, and the Rus-

sians have a central position ... and a well-directed effort.”

By this time serious doubts had already arisen in London

(and in Washington too) as to how realistic the policy was

which was being pursued by ruling circles in the two coun-

tries, yet in neither case did anyone go further and reach

the conclusion that the policy should be changed, and re-

lations with the Soviet Union approached on a different

basis.

This was reflected in the position adopted by the British

Government at the Geneva Conference. The invitation sent

to the Soviet Government showed no readiness on the part

of the Western powers to reach constructive agreement with

the USSR. Having stated that the time had come “for a new

effort to resolve the great problems which confront us’,

London and Washington followed that up with a warning

that it would all take a very long time. “In the limited time

for which the Heads of Government could meet,” says this

document, “they would not undertake to agree upon substan-

tive answers to the major difficulties facing the world... The

solution of these problems will take time and patience.”

The last part was no doubt meant for the benefit of the

masses.

What, then, were they going to talk about in Geneva?

The answer to that question can be found in the talks (or

to be more exact the separate caucus-meetings) which were

held between the Foreign Ministers of Britain, France and

the USA when they had received the Soviet Government’s

affirmative answer to the invitation. Macmillan writes

that “it was understood that the main subjects for discus-

sion would be the problems of Germany, disarmament, and

the relations between Russia and the Western Powers”.

At first sight, a promising agenda.

But what lay behind these very general formulations?

Randolph Churchill, who was present at the conference,

tells us that the main objective of the West in Geneva “should

be the reunification of Germany”. Again, not a bad formula:

303

the Soviet Union was pursuing the same aim. But the true

meaning of the formula, however, is discovered in an entry

in Macmillan’s diary for June 17, 1955.

That day he met Adenauer, Chancellor of the Federal

Republic of Germany. They spoke of the forthcoming con-

ference. The Chancellor expressed his conviction that Rus-

sia was eager for “a detente and might be got to give up

East Germany in exchange for some security in Kurope”.

On the basis of this conviction, Adenauer advised the West-

ern powers to put forward some disarmament move, “for

propaganda purposes”.

The views of the British Government’s leaders fell in

entirely with those of the German Chancellor. As Macmillan

later stressed in his Memoirs, he had no doubt but that the

Russians “would like to reduce the expenditure ... on ar-

maments”’. He then quotes from his own diary, an entry

for June 21: “But will they pay the price? Anyway, will

they pay any price for something that does not really achieve

their purpose?” So what they had in mind was making

an attempt, at the conference, to get the USSR to agree

to the GDR being merged with the FRG, and the subse-

quent inclusion of a reunified, bourgeois Germany in NATO.

As their contribution, the Western powers were ready to

issue vague statements about disarmament and European

security. Eden actually worked out a draft of such a state-

ment, in three parts.

Such illusory and naive calculations did no honour to the

West German and British politicians. They should by then

have been able to grasp the great truth that the Soviet

Union, true to its internationalist duty, could not make the

present and future of a fraternal socialist state the object

of a diplomatic deal.

The preparatory period before the Geneva Conference

showed that Britain and her allies were not seeking con-

structive, equitable agreement with the Soviet Union, agree-

ment conforming with the cause of peace. And that prede-

termined the outcome of the Summit conference.

The true intentions of the other parties to the talks were

no secret to the Soviet Government. It had itself taken the

initiative in calling for a Summit conference. At the begin-

ning of February 1955 the international situation, and Sov-

iet foreign policy, had been discussed at a session of the

Supreme Soviet. The Declaration on the International

Situation then passed said: “The peoples have a vital in-

304

terest in strengthening universal peace.” And it was in the

interests of improving the atmosphere internationally, and

discussing the controversial issues which were poisoning

it, that the idea of a meeting between the four heads of

government was put forward.

The question of calling such a meeting had been raised

by the Soviet Foreign Minister with his Western colleagues

at the signing in Vienna of the State Treaty with Austria,

and during the anniversary session of the UN General As-

sembly in San Francisco. In the course of these talks the

limiting approach made by Britain, France and the USA

to the aims of such a meeting had become quite clear. So

the Soviet Government had little expectation that the Ge-

neva meeting would result in definite solutions to major

international problems.

The instructions given to the Soviet delegation to the

conference defined its tasks thus: “The main tasks of the

conference between the heads of government of the four

powers must be to reduce international tension, and to con-

tribute to the creation of the trust which is essential in

relations between states. Proceedings are therefore to be

guided in such a way that the Conference shall reach deci-

sions in conformity with this objective, or at least a perti-

nent declaration (or statement).”

World public opinion understood the constructive nature

of Soviet intentions for the meeting. The New York Times

said that the Soviet leaders went to Geneva “seriously desi-

rous of improving the international atmosphere”.

The four governments involved agreed, through diplomat-

ic channels, that the Summit meeting should open in Geneva

on July 18, 1955. This was the first international meeting

at this level that Eden attended as principal representative

of Britain. He was accompanied by Macmillan, as Foreign

Secretary, by Kirkpatrick, the Permanent Under-Secretary,

by Norman Brook, head of the Cabinet Secretariat, and

by a group of experts and technical personnel.

The heads of the four delegations were accommodated

in different places. Eden returned to a villa which had been

put at his disposal by a well-to-do Swiss citizen a year ear-

lier, when he attended the Geneva Conference on Indochina.

Macmillan and the Foreign Office staff were at the Beau

Rivage Hotel.

The conference started with discussion of the agenda.

After a fairly sharp exchange of opinions it was agreed that

20—01222 305

i Se ee ee

there should be discussion of the German question, of Euro-

pean security, of disarmament, and of the development of

contacts between East and West.

The representatives of the Western powers, Eden and

HKisenhower particularly, put the German question in the

foreground. Eden evidently believed, to some extent, that

it was possible to settle this question in the interests of

the imperialist countries. He hoped that if a good “squeeze”

was applied to the Soviet delegation, it might agree to the

inclusion of the GDR within the FRG, under one diplomatic

formula or another, and that the FRG would still remain

within NATO. The British Prime Minister had probably

been impressed by the persistent assertions made in Wes-

tern circles that the position of the Soviet Government was

complicated by “internal difficulties”, and that “if prodded

sufficiently hard they would make necessary concessions”.

A clear case of wishful thinking, in London and in Washing-

ton! And that is a blunder which it is very dangerous for

politicians to make.

On the morning of July 17 the British, the French and the

Americans met together at the villa where the US President

was staying, to agree their stance beforehand. This had long

ago become a iradition—that a species of united diplomatic

front should be formed against the Soviet side, prior to any

important discussions with it. As Eden later recalled, he

told Eisenhower and Faure that he considered German uni-

fication by far the most important of the questions to be

discussed at the conference. The Russians, he remarked,

would not be anxious to spend time on this, so “the right

tactics for the Western powers were to insist on discussing

it and to put forward proposals which the Russians would

find difficult to reject”. It was agreed among them that pres-

sure should be put on the Soviet delegation to compel it

to make concessions on the question of Germany. “If we

could make some practical progress at Geneva towards the

unification of Germany,” Eden told them, “the conference

would be a success for the Western powers.”

The official discussion of the German question, at the

conference itself, also started with a speech by the British

head of government. He again brought forward the so-called

Eden Plan, which had first appeared at the Berlin Confer-

ence of Foreign Ministers of the four powers, in early 1954.

This plan provided for the holding of “free elections” in

East and West Germany, which were intended to result in

306

the incorporation of the GDR into the FRG, with a united

bourgeois Germany remaining in NATO. Eisenhower sup-

ported the British position. The Soviet side put forward its

objections.

The British invited the Soviet delegation to dine at their

villa. Neither the Americans nor the French were invited.

In this unofficial setting (though the “unofficial” nature of

such gatherings is something of a polite fiction) Eden con-

tinued the process of trying to persuade his guests to agree

to his plan for reunification of Germany. Macmillan re-

calls that during this conversation, at dinner and after, Eden

conducted the whole affair with great brilliance, exerting

all his charm. But according to Macmillan’s own diary entry

for July 19, the Soviet delegates remained firm in maintain-

ing that they were “unable to accept the reunification of

Germany in NATO, and will fight it as long as they can”.

At the same time, though, the British entertained no doubt

that the Russians “do not want the conference to fail”.

Indeed, the Soviet delegation in Geneva advanced the

idea of collective security in Kurope. It declared that only

joint efforts by all European states could provide true se-

curity for the peoples of the Continent. And both the German

states, the GDR and the FRG, must take part in establish-

ing such a security system. It was clear that Britain, France

and the USA had no intention of agreeing to a disbandment

of their military blocs, and the draft all-European treaty

on collective security, which was proposed by the Soviet

delegation, took account of that position.

Kiden spoke against the Soviet proposals. He advanced,

in opposition to them, the idea of a security treaty to be

concluded between the participants in the conference and

a united Germany. Under such a treaty Britain, France and

the USA were to give “safeguards of security” to the Soviet

Union. This was to be their “payment” for agreement by

the USSR to give up the GDR to the capitalist world.

One can understand Eden’s passionate desire to achieve

the elimination of the socialist system in the GDR, and

bring it into the capitalist world at all costs. But he can

scarcely have seriously believed that the Soviet Union would

agree to its own security being dependent upon “safeguards”

from the imperialist states. The acceptance of such “safe-

guards” would have meant the USSR placing itself in a

position of dependence upon the Western powers. The So-

viet leaders could never have agreed to such a thing even

20* 307

had they not been aware from history of the true value of

British “safeguards”. The history of the twenties and thir-

ties affords striking examples of what such “safeguards” had

proved to be worth to countries such as France, Poland, etc.

Macmillan notes that during the first round of discussion

on this question, Eden asked: “What about safeguards?” and

the answer from the Soviet side was: “We are strong; we

do not want safeguards.”

liden’s arguments against the draft all-European treaty

on collective security, as proposed by the Soviet delega-

tion, were feeble and contradictory. The Soviet proposal

was unacceptable, he said, because such a treaty “would

take years to work out”. He must have forgotten, or pretend-

ed to have forgotten, the text of the invitation to the con-

ference, in which it was stated in black and white that the

solution of the problems facing it would take time and pa-

tience. Macmillan estimated the time required as decades

or even generations. But nothing like that time would have

been required to carry through the Soviet proposals.

The position of the Eden Government on this question

is strikingly similar to that of the Heath Government two

decades later, when the holding of an all-European confer-

ence was mooted.

Eden, Eisenhower and Faure showed no interest in the So-

viet proposals on disarmament either. The representatives

of the USSR were in favour of the parties at the conference

binding themselves not to use atomic or hydrogen weapons,

and calling upon other states to follow their example. In

making this proposal the Soviet delegation stressed that the

draft they put forward was based upon proposals advanced

previously by the Western powers themselves.

But the other participants in the talks did not support

the Soviet proposal. Their counter-proposals were concerned

solely with control and inspection of existing weaponry and

armed forces.

A proposal by Eisenhower contributed something new:

it was that the USA and the USSR should exchange infor-

mation on their armed forces and allow aerial photography

of each other’s territory.

This demarche by the Americans was clearly inspired by

their desire for better intelligence—a better knowledge of

the defensive capabilities of the USSR. And for that reason

it was rejected by the Soviet side.

For Eden the President’s proposal was an unpleasant

308

surprise. He was alarmed—might Washington and Moscow

get together on this issue? An agreement on this point could

open the way to Soviet-American collaboration in this par-

ticular sphere. And London would be left on the side-lines.

Direct American-Soviet contacts, without Britain as the

“honest broker”, had been Churchill’s and Eden’s nightmare

earlier on, in the years of the anti-Hitler coalition. How could

one then play upon the contradictions between the USA and

the USSR, if the two countries decided‘to settle them by

bilateral negotiation?

“Here the President sprang a’ surprise,” is how] Eden ex-

pressed it later. What the American historian Fleming says on

the same subject is this: “The President’s proposal for mu-

tual air inspection between the U.S.A. and the U.S.S.R.

had ‘scared the British*half out of their wits’ ... since it

indicated in effect American-Russian cooperation.”

In the discussions on contacts between East and West,

the Soviet delegation expressed itself in favour of the devel-

opment of economic, commercial, cultural and other links

between the peoples, as an important*contribution to les-

sening international tension.

The delegations of the USA, Britain and France supported,

in words, the idea of extending economic links, but avoided

bringing the discussion of these down to real terms. They

did, however, show great interest in any opportunities that

might be created for sending bourgeois propaganda material

to the USSR.

During the last stage of the conference, there was talk

between the Soviet and British delegates of arranging mu-

tual visits of Heads of Government. The USSR representa-

tives"invited Eden to visit Moscow.

After the conference was concluded, it was possible to

observe a desire to exaggerate its importance. There was

much talk of “the spirit of Geneva”. History witnesses

that diplomats, not having achieved actual results, are often

inclined to maintain that they have invigorated a “positive

spirit”. It has been noted that such a “spirit” shows a ten-

dency to evaporate, rapidly and without trace.

In actual fact the results of the Geneva Summit meeting

were negligible. Though it did for a time contribute some-

what towards detente, no agreement was reached on major

international issues.

Eden and Macmillan drew one important conclusion from

their meetings in Geneva with Soviet delegates. Summing

309

up the results of the conference later, Eden wrote: “The

Geneva Conference taught some lessons... Kach country

present learnt that no country attending wanted war and

each understood why.” This convoluted formulation is of

interest primarily because it shows that Eden did bring

back from Geneva the conviction that the USSR wanted

not war but peace.

By way of “selling” the effectiveness of the conference,

Eden told the House of Commons: “Geneva has given this

simple message to the whole world: it has reduced the dan-

gers of war.” In reality the dangers of war had in no way been

reduced, as was to transpire only one year later. Eden was

perfectly well aware of it even in the summer of 1955. But

he needed to assure the British people that their Prime

Minister had kept his promise of arranging a Summit meet-

ing. Hence the exaggeratedly optimistic note in the assess-

ment made of Geneva.

In terms of hard politics, the Geneva Conference had not

been a success for Eden and his government. The British

side had hoped to put the squeeze on the USSR and get its

agreement to German unification on terms satisfactory to

the plans and aims of the Western powers. This had not

happened.

In Britain interest in the outcome of the Geneva Confer-

ence was further stimulated by Eden’s announcement to

the Ilouse of Commons that agreement had been reached in

Geneva on a visit to Britain in the coming year by the

Soviet leaders.

This visit was to take place in April 1956. At this moment

in time Eden was in a thoroughly bad mood. He had dreamt

for years of what he would do as Prime Minister, of how his

time in office would contribute a brilliant page to the an-

nals of British political history. For that dream to be real-

ised, he had to achieve something notable. But everything

was turning out to run counter to his dreams and hopes.

Failures had dogged him from the very start of his term in

office. First of all it had been economic troubles and _ politi-

cal problems at home. But that might probably be counter-

balanced by success abroad, in the field of foreign policy,

where Eden was strongest. After all Winston Churchill had

become a historic figure thanks to what he did in war and

in foreign relations being no great expert in economic and

home alfairs, indeed indifferent to them. Eden had counted

on the Geneva Conference to provide him with a great per-

310

sonal success, to give lustre to his name. But it had proved

a very pale and mundane affair, and brought him no fresh

popularity.

And Imperial affairs were proving bad, very bad indeed,

for British ruling circles. In South-East Asia and in the

Middle East the states which had recently thrown off Brit-

ish rule were going ahead in their fight for independence.

It was natural that their efforts in this direction should

cause them to turn towards the Soviet Union and the other

socialist countries. From them they could get disinterested

aid and support. But that ruined the colonialist and neo-

colonialist plans of imperialism. British ruling circles de-

manded fast and effective action from their government.

But what could that government do? British prestige in

the developing countries fell rapidly.

The situation was extremely unfavourable, politically

and psychologically, for the government and for Eden per-

sonally. The existing dissatisfaction with the government's

“weakness” was known to Eden, and it depressed and irri-

tated him. Then it suddenly overflowed the bounds of pri-

vate conversation in governmental and business circles and

got into the newspapers, even the Conservative newspapers,

such as the Daily Telegraph. “The general malaise,” writes

Randolph Churchill, “which seemed to have fallen on the

Government by the turn of the year led to severe criticism

of Sir Anthony, and his colleagues, and most of the blame

was put on Sir Anthony.”

That was the situation, and the general atmosphere, when

the Soviet leaders visited Britain. Feelings of dissatisfac-

tion and annoyance with the USSR always grow stronger

among the British bourgeoisie when it encounters difficul-

ties, even when the Soviet Union has nothing whatever to

do with them. That was the case on the occasion of this visit.

The Conservative Government’s ill-will towards the

USSR had been apparent even before the visit began. Eden

was annoyed by the visit which was made by a Soviet del-

egation to India and Pakistan, and by Soviet statements

of support for the newly independent countries, and by

anti-colonialist items in the Soviet press, etc., etc. All this,

he was to write later, “called in question the visit to Britain.

Naturally I weighed all these considerations carefully and

discussed them with my principal colleagues. It seemed to

me that we had invited the Soviet leaders to Britain not

because it suited them to come, but because it suited us to

311

receive them, and I thought, on balance, that the visit would

be to our advantage.”

These doubts and hesitations made themselves felt imme-

diately. The British press found a pretext for anti-Soviet

outbursts in the quite normal (in such cases) arrival in Lon-

don, prior to the delegation’s visit, of Soviet officials to

discuss security arrangements with their British colleagues.

The British side broke with all existing tradition‘in disregard-

ing the requests made by the Soviet side, when drawing

up the programme for the Soviet delegation during its stay

in Britain.

The Foreign Office prepared an agenda for the talks to

take place during the visit which even Eden considered was

“too tightly packed with items for our purpose”. Eden sug-

gested that “the agenda should be framed in the most gener-

al terms”. It was so framed.

The Soviet Government saw the hoped-for outcome of the

London visit as a strengthening of links between the two

countries, and a reduction in international tension. But the

Eden Government intended to use the visit of the Soviet

leaders as an ostentatious display of rapprochement with

the Soviet Union, in order to strengthen the position of the

Conservative Party within Britain. It further hoped to get

the Soviet Union to give assurances that it would not give

aid to the national liberation movement of the peoples.

Eden notes that he proposed to say in negotiation that anti-

colonialist statements of the USSR “seemed to have been

deliberately calculated to cause tension and to do harm to

Anglo-Soviet relations”. The Conservatives also intended to

get (or try to get) from the Soviet Union a unilateral under-

taking not to supply arms to Egypt, against whom Britain

and some other powers were already meditating military

intervention.

The official talks took place in the Prime Minister’s

residence, in the Cabinet room. There was a sharp exchange

of opinions concerning colonialism. The Soviet delegates

stated firmly that the USSR had always supported and

would continue to support the national liberation move-

ment, and that it could not do other than criticise colonial-

ism. That wasa matter of principle. The Soviet delegation

refused to give any undertaking not to assist Egypt, and

proposed that an international agreement of broad scope

should be concluded which would outlaw the supply of

arms to any of the countries of the Middle fast.

312

In Britain at this time there was a growiug inclination

to use force in this region. Eden said that the British would

“fight for oil”. The Soviet delegation replied that no argu-

ments citing the “importance” of oil for Britain, or her “vital

interests” in the Middle East, could justify Britain having

recourse to arms in the region. The Soviet delegation also

made concrete proposals—with the aim of thoroughly im-

proving relations between the two countries—on a consid-

erable increase in Anglo-Soviet trade. But the Eden Gov-

ernment rejected those proposals. It had to be understood

that this meant London would persist, together with” its

allies, in operating an economic blockade of the USSR.

The talks brought no serious practical results. ‘And the

British side had not meant that they should. Its 'demands

that the USSR should renege {on the principle of proletarian

internationalism in respect of the national liberation move-

ment of the peoples showed that the British Government was

not ready to work for better relations with;the Soviet Union.

On April 30, 1956, Eden sent the members of his Cabinet

a minute analysing the results of the talks with the Soviet

representatives. “I do not believe,” it said, “that the Rus-

sians have any plans at present for military aggression in

the West.” That is a remarkable conclusion set down in an

official document.

So once again, as in Geneva, the Eden Government had

no misgivings about Moscow’s intentions. Its admissions

here should be compared with the hysterical cries about the

“Soviet threat” which have continued to emanate from Lon-

don for decades since the events just described.

“Now that the Russian visit is over,” said the minute re-

ferred to above, “it is necessary to review our policy. There

are a number of points to be looked at. Our main weapons of

resistance to Soviet encroachment have hitherto been mili-

tary. But do they meet the needs of the present time?... Are

we prepared with other weapons to meet the new challenge?

This seems to me to be the major issue of foreign policy.”

Since in the same document Eden had recognised that

there was no military threat from the USSR, one may well

ask what the “challenge” was, and the “Soviet encroachment”

to which he alludes? The answer can be in no doubt. The

“challenge” which London saw lay in the fact that the CPSU

and the Soviet Government were confident that communism

would triumph ultimately throughout the world. Eden

himself says it: “Back at Number 10, I had to decide what

313

our policy should now be. The present Soviet rulers had as

much confidence as their predecessors in the ultimate trinmph

of communism. They were unshakeably determined.”

Eden was worried lest ordinary people, that had been mis-

led by imperialist propaganda, might come to realise that

there was in fact no threat of Soviet aggression. If they had,

it would have destroyed the very basis of NATO. “As the

menace of major war receded,” ran Eden's meditations,

“the existing basis of Western cohesion against Soviet

encroachment might be weakened. We should need to ad-

just our policy with more speed if we were to maintain the

solidarity of the free world to meet the new challenge from

the Soviet Union.” Thereafter came an important conclu-

sion: “In foreign policy it looked as though we should lay more

emphasis in future on economic and propaganda weapons

and less on military strength.”

This looks like a shift in British policy—a turning away

from military means of opposing socialism in the direction

of economic, political and ideological forms of struggle. But

it did not mean that military means would be henceforth

foresworn. It would be a mistake to think that this re-as-

sessment of policy was evoked by the fact that Eden sud-

denly clearly understood that there existed no military

threat to the West from the Soviet Union. He had always

known that the “threat” was an invention of imperialist

politicians and propagandists. Eden only acquired this scep-

tical attitude towards the use of military means in the

struggle against communism after it had become clear to

him that the socialist camp had effective means of defending

itself.

Even after the Soviet delegates had departed from Britain

and gone home, Eden still suffered some unpleasantnesses

connected with their visit. Without warning it emerged, in

a communique issued by the Admiralty, that on April 19

Commander Lionel Crabb, a frogman of the Royal Navy,

had been diving in Portsmouth Harbour near the Soviet.

cruiser Ordzhonikidze, on which the Soviet delegation had

arrived in Britain, and had perished. The question imme-

diately arose—what had he been doing near the cruiser? There

could be only one answer—it was a spying operation,

involving the underwater parts of the cruiser.

The fatal accident to Crabb gave rise to an official enquiry.

It elucidated that he had been staying at the Sallyport

Hotel in Portsmouth. When attempts were made to inspect

314

the hotel’s registration book, it appeared that a high-ranking

police officer had torn out the page carrying Crabb’s regis-

tration. The Secret Service was clearly trying to cover its

traces.

The Crabb incident was incontrovertible evidence that

hostile acts were being perpetrated against the Soviet Union

at the time of the talks with the Soviet delegation. Mem-

bers of Parliament, roused to indignation by this fact, not

to mention the clumsiness of their own intelligence service,

raised the matter in the House. The head of all British in-

telligence services is the Prime Minister, so any questions

involving them are for him to answer. As a rule the answer

is always the same: the Premier says that for security rea-

sons no answer can be given.

Eden, however, broke with this tradition. He, after all,

as political head of the intelligence services, was the one

bearing responsibility for the Crabb affair. And this could

mean that he had been guilty of duplicity during the talks

with the Soviet delegation. Later he was to justify his sur-

prising answer in Parliament by saying that doubts might

have been cast on London’s sincerity in the talks.

What Eden said in the House of Commons was this: “It

would not be in the public interest to disclose the circum-

stances in which Commander Crabb is presumed to have met

his death. While it is the practice for Ministers to accept

responsibility I think it is necessary, in the special circum-

stances of the case, to make it clear that what was done was

done without the authority or the knowledge of Her Maj-

esty’s Ministers. Appropriate disciplinary steps are being

taken.”

So the Prime Minister admitted that British Intelligence

had taken unprecedented action involving a Soviet cruiser

in Portsmouth Harbour at the very time when high-level

talks with the Soviet delegation were in progress. It was

a serious blow for Eden’s reputation.

It so happened that Eden’s term of office as Prime Minister

coincided with the break-up of British colonial empire in

the Middle East. And in trying to stem this irreversible

process, Eden was making efforts that were foredoomed to

failure. By the mid-20th century, the national liberation

revolution was something that the peoples of that part of

the world were bound to achieve. The time was ripe for it,

the conditions for its success were there, both within the

countries concerned and in the outside world, and British

315

colonialism’s defeat was inevitable. It is true that in the

first post-war decade the Middle Kast still remained a sphere

of British influence, and in London they were fully deter-

mined to cling on to their positions at any price. While in

India the British Government did not dare risk using armed

force to preserve its empire in Asia, in the Middle [ast it

was prepared to risk such action.

The prospects for the Arab peoples were favourable. Their

national liberation movement, upheld on the flanks by the

liberation struggle of the peoples of Cyprus and Iran, was

rapidly growing and gathering strength. The London poli-

ticians proved unable to reach a correct assessment of the

degree of maturity of the movement, and hence of the danger

threatening them. A particularly favourable circumstance

for the Arab peoples was the increased might and world

influence of the Soviet Union and other socialist states—

the natural, trusty allies of the liberation struggle.

The British Government manoeuvred as best it could.

Realising that inequitable treaties between Britain and

Arab states roused the people of those states to fury, it

tried re-negotiating treaties—as in the case of Jordan—so

as to make the grant of “independence” very conditional, and

meantime maintain and build up their own British garri-

sons on Arab territory. But this manoeuvre did not give

lasting or stable results.

Another idea was therefore produced in London—that

of creating a multilateral “defence organisation” in the

Middle East. Since the Arab countries would be participat-

ing in it on “equal” juridical terms with the British, the

expectation was that they would agree to accept a British

military contribution to the organisation, so that British

bases and garrisons would remain where they were. This

multilateral “defence organisation” was to protect British

interests, and those of the local bourgeoisie and feudal lords,

which were firmly tied to the British ascendancy, against

the national liberation movement.

In order to exclude the possibility of the Arab natious

being given the support of the socialist countries, the multi-

lateral military-political organisation was to be set up un-

der the flag of the fight against the communist threat. And

lastly, this “defence organisation” would make the terri-

tories of its participants available for purposes hostile to

the Soviet Union in conformity with the plans of NATO

strategists.

316

An attempt to create a military organisation in the Middle

East which would serve the interests of the imperialist states

had heen made as early as 1951. It failed. But when, four

years later, an agreement on defence was signed, with the

blessing of the British Government, between Turkey and

Arab Iraq, it looked as though there might be a chance of

bringing the old plan into operation. Britain promptly

involved herself, signing a similar agreement with Iraq.

When Iran and Pakistan also associated themselves with

this grouping, Eden thought that the Baghdad Pact, thus

created, would “grow into a NATO for the Middle East”.

But within Arab states it was clearly realised that the Bagh-

dad Pact was, in effect, only an ingenious device for justi-

fying the presence of British troops on their territories, and

the general attitude to this imperialist subterfuge was neg-

ative.

It was not only Arab attitudes to the Baghdad Pact, but

American ones also, which gave the British Government

grounds for grave concern. The United States encouraged

the conclusion of the Baghdad Pact (and from 1957 on took

part in its activities), because it was directed against the

Soviet Union and the national liberation movement. But

this bloc was also intended to maintain British positions

in the Arab world, whereas the American monopolies were

trying to extend their own footholds in the Middle East,

which could only be done by edging out the British. So

the United States, despite urgent requests from London,

refrained from becoming a fully-fledged member of the pact.

Conflicts of interest made themselves felt again in early

1956, at an Anglo-American meeting. Eden and the new

Foreign Secretary, Selwyn Lloyd, had a three-day consulta-

tion with US leaders in Washington. The British were trying

to agree a united Anglo-American policy for the Middle

East. Nothing came of it. On February 2, 1956, the London

Evening Standard wrote: “The Washington conference has

failed to produce any result which could not have been

procured through normal diplomatic channels. This was made

abundantly plain by a pompous declaration and uninforma-

tive communique. When the statesmen and politicians can’t

think of anything else to say they always drag in God.

Last night’s declaration did it twice over, both in preamble

and in peroration.”

The British Government had hoped that after the 1954

agreement on withdrawal of British troops from the Suez

317

Canal zone, Egypt would support the plans for a mlitary

block in the Middle Kast. Thought in London proceeded via

the old, often-tested concepts. How many times had Brit-

ain succeeded, by making concessions and casting sops to

a nationalist bourgeoisie, in transforming it into a firm

support for herself. Quite recently the same recipe had been

followed with success in Jordan, a settlement having been

reached with the ruling Hashimite dynasty. So if sensible

care was taken, it should be possible to bring Egypt too

within the embrace of “friendship”.

At first it seemed as though that would indeed happen.

The triumphant emergence of Nasser from the political

struggles of spring 1954 promised the establishment of a

strong government. Such a government was simpler and

more reliable to deal with. French newspapers carried re-

ports from Cairo to Lhe effect that the Foreign Office proba-

bly considered Nasser’s strong right arm a sufficient guaran-

tee, in the absence of universal suffrage in Egypt, of future

agreement. Advances were also made from the American

side, in hopes of doing a deal with Egypt’s leaders—a deal,

of course, which would be to the advantage of the monopoly

concerns, and directly contrary to the fundamental interests

of the Egyptian people. In return for such an agreement the

US Government was prepared to pay by sacrificing... British

interests.

On October 19, 1954, in the Hall of the Pharaohs where

the Egyptian Parliament met, at the feet of a black basalt

statue of Rameses II, the Anglo-Kgyptian agreement on

the withdrawal of British troops was signed. After this form-

al act Anglo-Egyptian relations returned to a normal foot-

ing, which British diplomats took to be evidence that the

Egyptian Government would be ready to cooperate with

Britain and the USA.

But in London and Washington they were incapable of

understanding that the revolution of national liberation in

Egypt, and in the Arab world in general, had not reached

its conclusion by the mid-fifties, and that its aims were quite

incompatible with those of the Western powers. The part

played by Britain and the USA in the creation of the Bagh-

dad Pact showed that the governments of those countries

were trying to restrain the national liberation movement

and preserve their own domination over the Arab peoples.

Realisation of this fact could not help but deepen the revo-

lution in Egypt and accentuate its anti-British thrust.

318

The beginning of 1955 saw the announcement that the

first link in the future Baghdad Pact had been created. The

Egyptian Government faced a dilemma: was it to join this

bloc as a junior, dependent partner with the Western powers,

or was it to attempt to unite with all the Arab peoples in

order to continue developing and deepening the liberation

struggle. The Egyptian leaders chose the latter. And this

decision brought naturally in its train an approach to those

who were the allies of the peoples fighting for their social

and national liberation.

In September 1955 the Soviet Union, Poland and Czecho-

slovakia signed an agreement on supply of arms to Egypt.

The US Government demanded of the Cairo Government, in

the form of an ultimatum, that it give up the acquisition

of arms from socialist countries. In Downing Street they

considered it wiser to refrain from issuing any ultimatum

as yet.

In support of the Egyptian Government, the Soviet

Government issued a statement that the USSR “adheres to

the position that every state has a legal right to show con-

cern for its own defence, and to purchase arms for defence

purposes from other states on ordinary commercial terms,

and no foreign state has any right to interfere in this and

make any unilateral objections infringing the rights and

interests of other states”. Thus Egypt’s dependence in

defence matters on Britain and the USA was overcome.

Egypt’s choice of the way forward reduced the politi-

cians in London to helpless fury. The Egyptian action was

a heavy blow to Eden’s Cabinet and to the Prime Minister

himself. Eden conceived a bitter hatred of Nasser, consider-

ing that the latter had tricked him personally.

Strange as it may seem, many events in the Middle Kast

took London by surprise, in spite of the fact that British

colonial administrators, diplomats and secret agents had

spent long years in the area. Another unexpected blow was

the situation in Jordan, which Downing Street had for-

merly been quite happy with. That country was ruled by

the twenty-year-old King Hussein, who had been brought

up and educated in England; his troops were commanded by

British generals and colonels, and there were over 100,000

British troops based in Jordan. In the late forties, Britain

had helped the rulers of Jordan to annex part of Palestine.

And lastly, Jordan was bound to Britain by treaties of

alliance, and her king received British subsidies.

319

But despite all that, all attempts to draw Jordan into

the Baghdad Pact failed. The ruling circles of Jordan were

prepared to do the will of London, but the mass of the peo-

ple voiced their protests quite categorically. The Eden

Government used force against them—and was defeated.

Events moved rapidly. At the end of November 1955

Macmillan arrived in the Middle East, and application of

the Macmillan Plan began; the general idea of this was to

draw Jordan into the Baghdad Pact gradually, starting

with economic agreements between Jordan and the pact’s

members.

This plan failed, and London decided to try thumping

the table. Field-Marshal Templer, Chief of the Imperial

Staff, arrived in Jordan. He succeeded in getting the govern-

ment of Jordan—which had a neutralist approach—sacked,

and a new Cabinet appointed, composed of men prepared to

see Jordan drawn into the Baghdad Pact. There was rejoic-

ing in London, but not for long. The people’s indignation

swept the new government from office within five days.

Field-Marshal Templer was obliged to leave Jordan. One

might think that by then British statesmen should have

grasped that the days of using force were past. But no—

such minds learn only with difficulty.

The British Government began to put pressure upon the

King of Jordan, treating him with contempt and trying to

frighten him. At the same time General Glubb (an English-

man commanding an Arab Legion within Jordan) began a

campaign of terror against the mass of the people. Rein-

forcements were moved to Cyprus with the clear intention

of their being used in Jordan. The British newspapers said

that the anti-British disturbances in Jordan were the imme-

diate cause of the troop movements.

The press also occupied itself with a search for the “cul-

prits’. Of course the journalists never mentioned the real-

ities of the matter—that the government’s failures in the

Middle East were the result of a faulty policy, that that poli-

cy was long outdated and under modern conditions could not

help but fail. They were looking for “reasons” in terms of

personalities. Some blamed Macmillan, others Field-Marshal

Templer, and yet others—Anthony Eden.

Early in March 1956 King Hussein, under pressure from

his people, dismissed Glubb from his post of commander of

the Arab Legion and told him to leave within two hours.

Other British officers were dismissed at the same time. In

320

> 20

response to these acts, the British press demanded that force

be used to restore British prestige in Jordan and the Middle

East.

Julian Amery, one of the most reactionary of Conserva-

tives, wrote a letter to The Times, which was printed on

March 5, saying that the events in Jordan were the conse-

quence of British retreats from Palestine, Abadan, the Sudan

and the Suez Canal Zone. He demanded that such retreats

should cease and called on the government “to promote a

rescue operation to save Britain from disaster in the Middle

East”. This was becoming more and more the prevailing

mood among Conservative MPs.

On March 7 there was a debate in the House of Commons

on the Middle Eastern situation. Waterhouse, leader of

the “Suez group”, declared: “Britain is still powerful and

on occasion our strength must be used.” Eden, according to

Randolph Churchill, “hesitated and stumbled” in making

his speech. “l must tell the House bluntly,” said the Prime

Minister, “that I am not in a position to announce tonight,

in respect of immediate policy for Jordan, definite lines of

policy which are inevitably to be followed.” Eden gave

lack of information as the reason for this inability to state

policy.

The Prime Minister was in a very awkward corner. It was

clear that the Conservative Party was waiting for him to

say that Britain would immediately restore her positions

in Jordan by forcible means. But Eden was not sure that

such action would succeed. And Field-Marshal Glubb him-

self, who had by then arrived in London, considered that

harsh measures against Jordan would have undesirable

consequences.

In summing up this Parliamentary debate on the Middle

East, Randolph Churchill writes: “As far as Sir Anthony

was concerned the debate marked the beginning of the dis-

integration of the personality and character that the public

thought him to possess.”

Eden’s conduct in the debate did not please the hot heads

in the Conservative Party. Press reports said that “Sir An-

thony suffered a blow to his prestige that was clearly reflect-

ed in the silent, devastated ranks on the Conservative benches

behind him. Inevitably, these episodes start one asking

the question ‘How long can Eden go on far?’... Events may

save Sir Anthony, but it is hard to avoid the feeling that

the cards are mounting and that, if the year goes on as it

21--01222 321

has begun, it will not be Sir Anthony Eden but Mr. Harold

Macmillan who reigns in Downing Street in 1957.” An ac-

curate prophecy! It was to happen, just as foretold.

"3 The mid-1950s were marked by two major acts of aggres-

sion, intended by imperialist politicians to ensure the con-

tinuation of colonialism, strike at the cause of freedom and

independence of the peoples, break the unity of the countries

of the socialist camp and weaken the world socialist system.

Britain, France and Israel, seeking to protect their imperial-

ist interests in the Middle East, unleashed armed aggression

against Egypt. At the same time, imperialist circles pro-

voked a counter-revolutionary mutiny in Hungary. These were

Jinks in the same chain...

Tlaving got rid of the British occupation, the Kgyptian

Government planned a series of measures designed to elimi-

nate the disastrous effects of Britain’s colonialist ascendancy,

to develop the national economy, and to raise the living stan-

dards of the people. The success of this programme depended

primarily on the building of the Aswan High Dam on the

river Nile; it was to make possible an extension of the areas

sown to crops, and to produce power for industrial develop-

ment. Large-scale capital investment was needed for the

building of the dam, and Egypt hoped to obtain about

270 million dollars through the International Bank for

Reconstruction and Development, from Britain and the

USA. But both those countries were prepared to arrange

loans only on political conditions unacceptable to Mgypt.

There was nothing new in this, in principle. Such condi-

tions are usually set when imperialist countries give “aid”

to developing countries. An English writer, Hugh Thomas,

says that “aid to underdeveloped countries had been openly

used by the West as an instrument of policy”. And when

Egypt refused to accept the conditions laid down, the Brit-

ish and US Governments withdrew their offers of loans for

the construction of the Aswan High Dam.

On July 26, 1956, the Egyptian Government announced

the nationalisation of the Anglo-French Universal Suez

Canal Company, which controlled the Suez Canal, although

this ran through Egyptian territory. Juridically this was

an entirely justified act, and it was done in the interests of

the Egyptian people and of all the Arab peoples. The terms

of the concession under which the company operated stated

it to be Egyptian, subject to Jocal jurisdiction, that it

must be run according to the laws and customs of Egypt,

322

and that in matters of the Suez Canal’s exploitation it must

act in the name of the Egyptian Government.

As everyone knows, the canal was built by Egyptian blood

and sweat. Its construction was begun in 1859, and it was

all done by manual labour. The workers were compulsorily

recruited from the Egyptian fellahin. Each month there had

to be 60,000 workers on the job, and this was an incredible

burden for the Egyptians, who at that period numbered only

four million. About 120,000 Egyptians perished in the

course of the canal’s construction, from overwork and dis-

ease. Egypt paid out 450 million francs for the building

of the canal. And that sum does not include the labour con-

tributed, or the value of the land taken over.

In 1875 the British Government purchased from the then

ruler of Egypt all the shares which he held in the Suez Canal

Company. Kgypt was finally pushed out entirely from the

running of the canal and from enjoyment of the profits it

brought in. Kgypt’s national heritage was taken over by the

colonialists.

In Eden’s Memoirs the chapter dealing with jthe national-

isation of the Suez Canal is headed “Theft”. It would be

wrong to think that the writer chose this chapter heading

in a fruitless attempt to give a literary tone to a historical

event, or that it is merely the result of his own emotional

state after being unsuccessfully involved in that event. It

expresses Eden’s convictions, his world outlook; not only

his, but the world outlook of Britain’s ruling circles. This

is the world outlook which provides the basis for neo-colo-

nialism, and which furnished “moral justification” for the

British Government when it launched an armed attack on

Egypt in 1956. The fact that British colonisers in the 19th

century had taken away Egypt’s property and its indepen-

dence strikes British politicians and many historians as some-

thing quite natural and justified. But when the people of

Tigypt declared its intention of re-assuming its rights over

that which had been taken from it, at once the cry of “Theft!”

went up in London. Such is the ideology and morality of

the imperialists, and they are a vital element in interna-

tional relations.

The British Government was taken unawares by Egypt’s

action, although if it had paid more careful attention to

what Egyptian statesmen had been saying, and had had a

better understanding of the processes taking place in Egypt,

it might have been able to read the signs in good time.

24* 323

Eden got the news of the nationalisation while he was at

an official dinner, given by him on July 26 in honour of

guests from Iraq recently arrived in London—King Feisal

and Prime Minister Nuri Said, who was a doughty defender

of British interests in Iraq. Nuri Said at once advised Eden:

“Hit him, hit him hard and hit him now.” Meaning Nasser.

Hastily getting rid of other guests such as Gaitskell and

Shawcross of the Labour Party, Eden immediately called

together his Ministers, the Chiefs of Staff, likewise the

French Ambassador and a Counsellor from the US Embassy.

Nuri Said afterwards stated that Eden was infuriated to

the highest degree. It was probably at that moment that he

conceived the idea that the Egyptian Government had to

be removed. If it could be done by economic and political

pressure, well and good; if not, then force would have to

be used.

The next day Eden sent a telegram to Eisenhower which

said: “This morning I have reviewed the whole position

with my Cabinet colleagues and Chiefs of Staff. We are all

agreed that we cannot afford to allow Nasser to seize control

of the canal... We should not allow ourselves to become in-

volved in legal quibbles about the rights of the Egyptian

Government to nationalize what is technically an Egyptian

company (my italics—V. 7.]... As we see it we are unlikely

to attain our objective by economic pressures alone... We

ought in the first instance to bring the maximum political

pressure to bear on Egypt... My colleagues and I are con-

vinced that we must be ready, in the last resort, to use force

to bring Nasser to his senses. For our part we are prepared

to do so. I have this morning instructed our Chiefs of Staff

to prepare a military plan accordingly.”

Such prompt efficiency bears witness to the complete

unity and firm determination prevailing at this juncture

within the British Government. It all looks rather as though

in London they had only been waiting for a suitable excuse

in order to overwhelm Egypt with all Britain’s economic,

political and military might, in order to restore British

positions in that country and in the entire Arab world.

Economic pressures were at once brought to bear on

Egypt, and the press began to prepare the British people

for the launching of an armed attack upon it. By July 28

The Times was headlining “Time for Decision”. Further

down it said: “The seizure is an act of international brigand-

age... If .... Nasser can demonstrate that he can with im-

324

punity appropriate assets and destroy Western interests,

others are certain sooner or later to profit by that lesson.

The oilfields of the Middle East, on which Britain’s stan-

dard of living so much depends, are mainly in the territo-

ries of friendly Middle Eastern Governments. But in the

shifting sands of Arab politics extremists in every country

would soon be pressing to follow Egypt’s lead, if it were

seen to be successful.”

It seemed that public opinion was following where these

propagandist calls led, seeing that not only Conservative

but Labour Members of Parliament also were speaking in

favour of applying firm measures to Egypt. The Labour lead-

er, Hugh Gaitskell, came out on the 27th of July in support

of the government, when speaking in the House of Commons,

and sharply condemned Egypt, calling the nationalisation

of the Suez Canal “a high-handed and totally unjustifiable

step”. In another speech, on August 2, Gaitskell admitted

that armed force might be used against Egypt. Even so-

called “left” Labour people lined up behind the Eden Gov-

ernment. At least their acknowledged Jeader, Aneurin

Bevan, remarked to Amery, the most extreme supporter

of military action: “This proves you were right.”

Here too the Prime Minister made yet another mistake.

lie was sure that the Labour Opposition was on his side.

This was a very important point. British history teaches

that a government dare not enter into a war unless it has

the support of the Opposition. Eden should have taken into

account possible changes in Labour’s attitude in the future.

In fact a change did take place, and quite quickly.

In the international arena, two diametrically opposed

lines immediately emerged. The Soviet Union and the other

socialist countries came out firmly on the side of Egypt.

The USSR Government made an official declaration that

it “considers the decision of the Egyptian Government on

the nationalisation of the Suez Canal an entirely legitimate

act, ensuing from Egypt’s sovereign rights”. The majority

of the Afro-Asian states declared their support for Egypt.

Numerous organisations representing public opinion raised

their voices in support of this just cause.

This could not but affect the attitude of the British peo-

ple. Very soon the chauvinist propaganda largely lost its

effectiveness. Ordinary people in Britain began to realise

that caution was needed or their country would find itself

in a very awkward situation. This mood spread among rank-

325

and-file Labour supporters. Under pressure from them, the

party bosses began to waver. Even as early as August 13,

the Labour Shadow Cabinet resolved that the nationalisa-

tion of the Suez Canal did not give grounds for the use of

force against Egypt. It was a remarkable turn-around, and

in ignoring it, Eden’s Cabinet committed another grave

error.

Quite another line was taken by the British Conservatives,

and by the French and US Governments, which joined with

Eden’s Cabinet in applying economic pressure on Egypt.

These countries organised a series of international meetings

with the object of bringing international political pressure

to bear upon troublesome Cairo, and forcing it to hand over

the Suez Canal to the imperialists. The second object

of these manoeuvres was to gain time for the build-up needed

prior to an armed attack upon Egypt.

On an initiative coming from Britain, France and the USA,

a 22-power conference met in London in August 1956; its

aim was supposed to be, as its initiators saw it, the establish-

ment of a so-called international board of management for

the Suez Canal. To persuade the Egyptian Government to

accept this and abandon nationalisation, the Australian

Prime Minister, Menzies, was sent to Cairo; his mission

was unsuccessful, though.

In September Dulles produced a proposal for the forma-

tion of a Suez Canal Users’ Association, in which the USA,

Britain and France would take part. The association would

have had the right to coordinate the passage of shipping

through the Suez Canal, and the levy of fees for its use. It

was a feebly disguised plan for seizure of the canal by the

imperialist powers. A new conference, this time with 18

countries taking part, accepted this American plan after

some hesitation, but Egypt rejected it.

The Labour leaders were becoming more and more insis-

tent that they could not support military action against

Egypt unless it had the sanction of the United Nations. So

the British Government, which had at the start no inten-

tion of bringing UNO into the affair, decided it would be

as well to do so. This application to the United Nations

Organisation would also come in useful later, by way of

justification to the people of armed action being taken: one

could say that since appealing to UNO had had no result,

it was necessary to use force to see “justice” done.

Britain and France lodged a complaint against Egypt with

326

the Security Council, asking it to call upon Egypt to coope-

rate with the Canal Users’ Association. The USSR used its

right of veto to prevent such a resolution being passed.

Simultaneously with these official international acts,

an alliance was being formed, in deepest secrecy, between

Britain, France and Israel, and a military attack upon

Egypt urgently prepared. The French Government was eager

for such action, and even hurried on the preparations. Re-

lations between Paris and the Arab nations were in a ho-

peless state anyway, so France had nothing to lose. The

politicians of the Quai d’Orsay hoped that armed intervent-

ion against Egypt would not only restore French “rights”

over the Suez Canal, but lead to a change of regime in Cairo

and so to a cessation of Egyptian assistance to the people

of Algeria, then in active struggle against French colonial

rule.

By this time Guy Mollet’s Government had established

close cooperation with Israel, French arms were pouring

into that country, and Paris found it easy to reach agreement

with Tel Aviv on a joint attack upon Egypt. The conflict

over the Suez Canal was seen by Israeli leaders as a heaven-

sent opportunity for furthering their own territorial expans-

ion at Egypt’s expense.

Eden’s Cabinet too wanted to bring Israel in as an ally,

but unlike the French they had to operate in utter secrecy.

The point was that British plans included the replacement

of Nasser’s Government by a pro-British clique which, to-

gether with Nuri Said, would have formed the nucleus of

a group of other Arab states that Britain could then direct

in her own interests. So it was essential not to let the Arabs

know that London was lining up with Israel, since the latter

had been at war with the Arabs since 1948.

The deal between the three aggressors was arranged in

the main by France, but at the very final stage the British

had to play their part too. On October 16 Eden and Selwyn

Lloyd met the French leaders, Mollet and Pineau. A plan

for the attack upon Egypt, known as Musketeer II, was

discussed in detail and passed. The next day, on return to

London, Eden said that Britain and France had agreed to

form the Canal Users’ Association. At the same time he

stressed his non-connection with Israel’s actions: “I do not

want to know about Israel.” The British Prime Minister

was always more than generous when it came to false state-

ments,

327

A week later, on October 24, Selwyn Lloyd and Patrick

Dean met Mollet and Pineau and Israeli leaders—Ben

Gurion, the Prime Minister, and Defence Minister, Moshe

Dayan. This meeting finalised the deal between the three

aggressors.

The Eden Government’s insistent determination to pre-

tend that it had nothing to do with Israel’s attack on Egypt

moved Pineau to comment, later: “I have’ been greatly

struck by Britain’s first priority, apparently, being to

justify its actions to the Arabs and to world public opinion.”

He also stated that the plan of attack was set out in a spe-

cial document which*was signed by him, Pineau, for France,

by Ben Gurion for Israel, and by Patrick Dean for Britain.

This was in a villa at Sevres.

It is interesting that the arguments about just what agree-

ment was reached between the British and Israeli Govern-

ments in October 1956 rumbled on many years later. The

British side maintained stubborn silence as to there having

been any agreement at all. An interview with Ben Gurion

in the Listener shows that he was extremely angered by the

attempts of Eden and his colleagues to disavow any agree-

ment with Israel. Ben Gurion said that since “Eden didn’t

behave like a gentleman” he himself did not feel bound to

keep silence; he had four volumes of materials on the matter

which would be published “when they will not be alive—

Eden, Selwyn Lloyd and the others”.

The upshot of the agreement reached between the offi-

cial representatives of Britain, France and Israel in the latter

half of October 1956 was that the bloc of aggressors took

its final shape.

Feverish military preparations were in progress at the

same time. A joint Anglo-French planning team was set up,

which worked under the Thames in old Second World War

secret apartments. It was agreed that overall command of

the invasion of Egypt should go to General Keightley, com-

mander-in-chief of British forces in the Middle East. His

next in command was to be a Frenchman—Vice-Admiral

Barjot.

Providing for the invasion militarily proved unexpectedly

difficult, despite the fact that, within the framework of

NATO, both countries had advanced substantially on the

road of the arms race and had spent enormous sums on it.

As Hugh Thomas notes: “Britain's defence arrangements

were geared either to all-out nuclear war against Russia

328

or to counter-insurgency in colonies; almost no provision

existed for limited or conventional war of the old sort.”

And the attack upon Egypt was to be just such a “convention-

al war of the old sort”. So the staff officers had to do a lot

of improvising.

Invasion preparations were complicated by the fact that

there were no suitable bases near Egypt where forces could

be concentrated. Cyprus was the nearest, but the British

bases there were insufficient for the requirements of the

operation as planned. So many aircraft and ships had to be

based on Malta.

It had been agreed that the British should provide the

major part of the forces required: medium and light bomber

planes, fighter planes, 50,000 men, and over 100 warships.

The French contributed 30 ships and 30,000 men. There were

seven aircraft-carriers—five British and two French. Opera-

tion headquarters was on Cyprus.

As the plan agreed by the three governments provided,

Israel began military action against Egypt at 9 p.m., on

October 29, 1956. The attack was spearheaded against the

Sinai Peninsula and the Suez Canal. Nineteen hours later,

at 4.30 p.m., on October 30, the British and French Govern-

ments presented Egypt with an ultimatum, that she should

within 12 hours cease all military action by land, sea or

air, withdraw all armed forces to a distance of 10 miles from

the Suez Canal, and agree to the occupation by British and

French forces of key points at Port Said, Ismailia and Suez.

Britain and France threatened Egypt with armed interven-

tion, if these demands were not fulfilled. The ultimatum was

also officially sent to Israel. This hypocritical act was meant

to show the aggressors in the light of impartial third parties,

treating Egypt and Israel on the same footing, and inspired

solely by the desire to keep the peace.

Since Israeli forces had already advanced 160 miles into

Egyptian territory, this ultimatum legitimised the seizure

of that territory. Indeed, by demanding that the belligerents

withdraw to positions 10 miles from the Suez Canal, Brit-

ain and France were, as it were, inviting Israel to advance

another 120 miles. The absurdity of the Eden and Mollet

governments’ pretensions to “impartiality” is thus revealed

as soon as the text of the ultimatum is studied.

The British Government certainly made a bad mistake

in thus associating itself with Israel. In spite of all their

attempts to conceal it, the Arab states realised quite clearly

R29

that they were under attack by two foes: one was trying

to restore its old colonial domination, and the other was

encroaching upon Arab territory. This was a spur to Arab

unity and to their resistance to aggression.

On October 30 the Egyptian Government rejected the

Anglo-French ultimatum and declared general mobilisa-

tion. The next day the term laid down in the ultimatum ex-

pired, and the Eden Government instructed General Keight-

ley to commence military action against Egypt. On the

evening of October 31 British bombers from Cyprus and

Malta attacked Egyptian airfields. These air attacks went

on for five days, then on November 5 British and French

troop landings were made at Port Said.

Eden and his colleagues had naively imagined that as

soon as the first bombs fell and the first troops landed, the

Egyptian people would immediately overthrow their govern-

ment and meekly accept a puppet government named by

the aggressors. This supposition explains the great atten-

tion that was paid to preparing psychological warfare against

the Egyptians. A special headquarters was set up for this

purpose, on Cyprus, under the command of Brigadier Fer-

gusson. It mounted a “radio attack”, and deluged Egyptian

towns with millions of leaflets with the call to depose “the

tyrant Nasser”. But the people of Egypt understood what

the aggressors wanted to impose upon them and _ serried

ranks around their government, supporting its military

eflorts. The Egyptian High Command had an army of about

100,000 at its disposal. A quarter of this number were in

Sinai, and as there were fears that they might be surrounded,

they were ordered to withdraw beyond the Canal.

On November 6 British and French units occupied Port

Said. The same day they pressed on to the south, towards

Ismailia and Suez, and had advanced 23 miles by evening.

But at this moment General Keightley received orders

from London to cease fire. The Soviet historian A. M. Gol-

dobin, in his study of the Suez crisis, writes that “by the

evening of November 6 Egypt was undoubtedly in a very

difficult situation. The battle in the air, the actions in

the Sinai and at Port Said had all been lost. The Egyptians

were preparing for what might, at the worst, be general

partisan warfare, and hundreds of thousands of rifles were

distributed to the population. But at this moment the hand

of the aggressor was stayed.” Who, then, stayed it?

English, and to a large extent American, memoirs and

330

historiography keep firmly to presenting the line that the

military action by Britain and France did not succeed be-

cause it was opposed by the United States. This version is

widely disseminated, for one thing, because there is no desire

in London to admit the decisive contribution made by the

Soviet Union to the re-establishment of peace in the Middle

East. For admission of the true part played by the USSR

at that difficult moment for the Arab countries would rob

of all force the ideas so assiduously peddled in the West

of the USSR’s “perfidious” designs against the Arabs, of its

“aggressive intentions” in the region, etc., etc. And this

would undermine imperialism’s positions in the ideological

struggle against the USSR.

For another thing, the version ascribing the role of bene-

factor to the United States during the war of 1956 suits

American ruling circles very nicely, since it shows them as

a friend to the Arabs. Which is useful, bearing in mind the

US interest in Middle Eastern oil, not to mention other,

political and strategic, interests.

The facts tell another story. During the period of the

Suez conflict the Soviet Government was active and deter-

mined in its defence of Egypt’s fight for its independence.

It made a series of attempts to enlist UNO to counter aggres-

sion. Immediately following the Israeli attack, before the

British and French incursion had even started, the Soviet

Government addressed the UN Security Council with the

proposal to pass a resolution demanding cessation of hostil-

ities and the withdrawal of Israeli troops. When the resolu-

tion was voted on, the USA abstained, Britain and France

used the veto, and the resolution was not adopted.

On November 2 an emergency session of the UN General

Assembly passed, by an overwhelming majority, a resolution

demanding that the three aggressor countries cease military

action and withdraw their troops from Egyptian territory.

The aggressors ignored it.

Then the Soviet Government took a decisive step. On No-

vember 5 it sent Britain, France and Israel the demand that

they immediately stop the war against Egypt, warning Lhat

its continuation might have dangerous consequences. The

message which the head of the Soviet Government sent to

Eden said: “What would be the situation of Britain, if she

were attacked by stronger states with all forms of modern

destructive weaponry at their disposal? At the present time

such states might send against Britain’s shores not fleets of

gai

ships or aircraft, but other devices using, for example,

rocket technology... Deeply concerned as we are by the devel-

opment of events in the Middle East, and being guided by

the interests of preserving universal peace, we consider that

the British Government must hearken to the voice of reason

and stop the war in Egypt. We address ourselves to you, to

Parliament, to the Labour Party, to the trades unions, to

the people of Britain: stop armed aggression, call an end

to the bloodshed. The war in Egypt may spread to other coun-

tries and turn into a third world war.” And so that there

should be no doubt remaining of the Soviet Union’s firm

resolve, the message concluded: “We are fully determined

to use force to crush the aggressors and to restore peace in

the Middle East.”

The Foreign Minister of the USSR simultaneously des-

patched a telegram to the Chairman of the UN Security Council

proposing that it should call upon Britain, France and Israel

to cease mililary operations within 12 hours, and to with-

draw the invading troops from Egyptian territory within

three days. The USSR offered to give Egypt armed and other

assistance if Britain, France and Israel did not heed the

demand of the Security Council.

The Soviet Government also addressed President Fisen-

hower, proposing that the USA and the USSR should use

the military force of the two countries to halt aggression.

The United States rejected the proposal.

On the morning of November 6 the message from the head

of the Soviet Government was published in the British

press. In London they realised that they were playing with

fire. Sobriety ensued. And at once dissension broke out

among the country’s leading circles. lt is ever thus when a

government suffers a crushing defeat. A meeting of the Cab-

inet revealed a split within it. Hight of its members threat-

ened to resign unless the war was brought to an end. And

the government took the decision to halt military operations

without even consulting the Chiefs of Staif. There was no

time to do so, and no point in doing so, since the decision

had been taken under the pressure of political factors. At

midday Eden rang Mollet, presented him with the fait ac-

compli, and rang off.

Only 22 hours had passed since the Ambassadors of the

USSR in London and in Paris had handed the Soviet Govern-

ment’s messages to Eden and Mollet, and the war was ended.

In December the foreign troops left Egyptian soil, It was

339

the heaviest of defeats for British and French imperialism.

Why did it happen? First and foremost because Eden and

his colleagues miscalculated. They left out of account a most

important factor determining the development of interna-

tional relations at the time, the new balance of forces in

the world, produced by the crisis of the imperialist system

on the one hand, and the continued strengthening of the

world socialist system on the other.

Such is the truth. The US Ambassador to France, speaking

on the radio then, said that the Soviet intervening had been

decisive. Many historians in the Western world have come

to the same conclusion.

One naturally asks what the position of the USA really

was at the time of the Suez crisis? Eisenhower’s Government,

knowing that the aggression perpetrated against Egypt was

odious in the extreme to public opinion throughout the

world and was doomed to failure, had recourse to a crafty

and two-faced line of conduct. As the collectively written

Soviet Foreign Policy notes: the American Government

“disassociated itself verbally from its NATO allies, Brit-

ain and France. But as regards deeds, it continued to supply

Britain and France with oil, and made a loan of 500 mil-

lion dollars available to Britain”.

The British thesis, that Washington opposed London, is

based solely on the fact that the American representatives

at the United Nations either voted differently from Britain,

or abstained, when the Suez problem was under discussion.

Since the Americans did not associate themselves with

those whose assessment of the aggression against Egypt was

accurate and true to principle, it might perhaps be truer to

say that the USA “failed to support”, rather than opposed,

Britain at the United Nations. They took up a position of

neutrality and gave no military support either to the three

aggressor countries in the Suez war.

This position on the part of Washington has to be seen

in the light of a number of relevant facts. Firstly, the USA

gave Britain, as its NATO ally, all possible political support.

The American Government consistently rejected all the

Soviet proposals which, if acted upon, would have called

the aggressors to order. It actively supported British plans,

and advanced plans of its own, intended to wreck the nation-

alisation of the Suez Canal and keep its management in

Western hands. The USA knew, as the whole world knew,

of the preparations for a military attack upon Egypt, and

333

did nothing to stop that attack being made. British asser-

tions that while hostilities were in progress the Americans

“sank” the pound sterling are unfounded. It was Eden’s

Government itself that sank the pound by engaging in a

hopeless venture. Britain’s currency was shaken because

international financial circles understood at once that the

Middle East war would end badly for Britain, and would

consequently weaken the position of the pound. It was a

normal, so to speak, reaction by the financial world to the

troubled situation into which Eden’s Government had

plunged the country.

Secondly, there are some grounds for believing that the

independent action which Britain undertook in the Middle

Kast was intended to be an assertion of Britain’s indepen-

dence in her policy from the US in this area, something that

would show Washington what London could do. It was a

matter of raising Britain’s status in the Anglo-American

bloc and within NATO. And yearnings for independence of

that sort were hardly likely to appeal to the United States.

Thirdly, any prospect of the operation started by London

and Paris succeeding could hardly please the Americans,

since it would have meanta radical strengthening of British

positions in the Middle East. And the aim of American policy

was just the reverse—to replace British influence by Ameri-

can influence. These considerations meant that objectively

the USA had an interest in the failure of the Eden Govern-

ment’s enterprise.

Fourthly, for the same reasons the US Government had no

wish whatsoever to quarrel with the Arabs, and was very

wary of making any move which would evoke unfavourable

reactions in the Arab world.

Fifthly, they could hardly expect in Downing Street that

they would get any active American support in their war

against Arabs, for the simple reason that they never asked

for it. They were convinced that they could manage on

their own. Eden merely informed Eisenhower of decisions

when they were taken, and that in very general terms.

Sixthly, in making a military attack upon Egypt one odd

week before the Presidential elections were due to start in

the United States, Eden undoubtedly had it in mind to carry

the operation through at a time when the President would

have his hands tied by the electoral campaign. This is ad-

ditional evidence of there having been no desire in London

to make sure of American support.

And lastly, the US Government could not pass up the chance

to call Eden to heel and so get their own back for what

had happened in 1954. At that time he had repeatedly made

light of American opinions and wishes on major internation-

al issues. He had disregarded Dulles at the Berlin Confer-

ence of Foreign Ministers. He, Eden, had wrecked American

plans to “internationalise” the war in Vietnam. He had cut

right across Dulles’ line at the Geneva Conference, coming

out in favour of ending the war in Indochina. In late 1954

Eden had attempted to take over from the USA the leading

role in arranging the agreements whereby West Germany

would be remilitarised. In the light of all that, one can un-

derstand Eisenhower and Dulles not wanting to hasten to

Kden’s aid in 1956, but preferring to make use of his troubles

to their own advantage. The ratio of power within the Anglo-

American alliance was such that the British Government was

in no position to claim the independence it coveted. So

Washington let it know that was so, as and when occasion

arose.

Defeat in the 1956 war brought catastrophic consequences

for the ruling circles of Britain. The cost in lives lost in

action was minimal, if official data can be trusted; they give

the number of dead as 22. But the economic loss was very

great indeed. Eden, who obviously had an interest in making

the figure as small as possible, gave the cost as £100 million.

We feel that the calculations made by the Labour Party’s

research section three years later, when many things were

much clearer, may be more accurate. It put the cost at

£328 million. This includes additional expenditure on the

army, navy and air force; the value of the installations and

equipment of the lost military base on the Suez Canal (Egypt

annulled the 1954 treaty under which Britain had been ac-

counted the owner of this property); the loss borne by the

British oil companies; losses through interruption of trade

with Egypt; etc. To that one should add also the value of

the British banks and other firms in Egypt which were na-

tionalised, and for which only limited compensation was

paid.

But out of all comparison with even these figures was

the political cost to Britain. Harold Nicolson, a man of

Conservative convictions and a keen student of international

relations, wrote a letter to his wife (so in terms not intended

for publication) on November 7, 1956, still in the heat of

the moment, in which he said: “Well! That really is a fiasco!

335

I experienced shameful relief when I heard of the cease-

fire... Eden has failed all along the line. The Canal will now

be blocked for weeks; Nasser is regarded as a hero and a mar-

tyr; our oil-supplies will be cut for two months at least;

we have shown that we have not a friend in the world; our

reputation is tarnished; and in the end, at the first serious

threat from the Soviet Union, we have had to climb down.

It is about the worst fiasco in history, and my deep prayer is

that it will now cease and we shall be able to hide our shame

in silence.”

The collapse of the intervention in Egypt not only fin-

ished British influence in that country for good and all, it

also offered extensive opportunities for improving the nation-

al independence of all the Arab states.

The British Government had underestimated the strength

of the national liberation movement in the Middle East, and

had made a bad mistake in consequence. British influence in

the region fell abruptly.

Kden’s Suez adventure caused great tension within the

British Commonwealth. Its newer members took up a stance

hostile to Britain, and the older ones too refused to support

her.

Anglo-French relations also suffered. On the eve of the

intervention, indeed, the old “Entente Cordiale’ had come

to life again it seemed. But when a game is lost, partners

always fall out. The rift which became evident in relations

between the two countries after their joint fiasco in the

Middle Kast took a long time to heal. It was felt particularly

strongly while General de Gaulle remained in power.

The Suez adventure caused even greater discord in Anglo-

American relations. Eden, who was considered pro-American,

had no understanding of the objective nature and role of

inter-imperialist contradictions. He therefore considered that

actions on the part of the Americans which London found

undesirable must be inspired by personal antipathy towards

Britain in this or that individual. This time he explained

away the US attitude as being due to ill-will on the part of

Dulles. British historiography had long gone on presenting

the view that had it not been for Dulles, the “evil genius”,

Eisenhower might have behaved differently. Which is clearly

a misapprehension.

While London reacted to French dissatisfaction over their

joint venture of 1956 by loftily ignoring it, for a time at

least (which they very soon came to regret), in the case of

336

the USA the British Government started to make it a rule,

as from the time immediately following the Suez war, not to

initiate politica! or military action of any importance with-

out first_ getting Washington's approval. “The British have

never since ventured on a foreign policy independent of

the USA,” writes Hugh Thomas. In this connection there

was soon formulated and approved by both sides the prin-

ciple of “interdependence”. British ruling circles, seeing, in

the light of Suez, their own weakness in the modern world,

looked to find supplementary strength in closer alliance and

cooperation with the USA. But in view of the difference

in power between the two partners, the development of

this trend in relations between them could hardly fail to

bring in its train a greater degree of British dependence on

the United States. The proclamation of “interdependence”

had to be made willy-nilly, and it was done with feelings

of great bitterness in British ruling circles.

After the Suez war dissatisfaction with the American at-

titude was very strong in the Conservative Party. Matters

went so far as the tabling of an anti-American motion in the

louse of Commons by 127 Conservative Members. The mo-

tion censured the USA for having, by its actions, placed

the Atlantic alliance in grave peril.

As regards the USSR, no words can describe the wave of

hatred which broke out towards it in reactionary circles.

The Soviet Union’s support of the Arabs’ just struggle pro-

duced an intensive anti-Soviet propaganda campaign in

Britain, contributed to by members of the government, and

by Parliament, and by the press and other mass me-

dia.

The failure of the military interventionin Egypt seriously

damaged the authority of the Conservative Party within

Britain. In the ranks of the big bourgeoisie they were dis-

satisfied with the Conservatives because they had proved

unable to take such action with success, because they were

not firm, determined and strong enough to do it.

While among the mass of ordinary people anger with the

Conservatives flared because they had launched aggression

against Kgypt, starting a war which had very nearly spread,

from being a local conilict, into a major war. The people of

Britain understood that the Eden Government, by starting

their Middle Eastern venture, had drawn down upon Brit-

ain the condemnation of all honest-minded people. The

mnilitary attack on Egypt finally freed public opinion of its

22-01222 337

false picture of den as a peace-loving statesman and exhib-

ited his true face.

The British were particularly indignant because during

the Suez crisis the government had lied to the people and

misled Parliament. This ollended against the “purily” of

British democracy, in which the British take such pride and

which they so wearisomely insist on setting up as the example

the whole world ought to follow.

Ilarold Nicolson was in the thick of events, and his as-

sessments, noted in his diary, i.e. for himself alone, are

therefore particularly valuable as an indication of the slate

of feeling in Britain at that time. Nicolson described the

attack on Egypt as criminal. On November 2, apropos of pos-

sible success in the Suez lighting he remarked: “Success does

not render a dirty trick any less dirty.”

On November 3 Nicolson recorded: “We listen to the Prime

Minister on television. It is a dishonest .... performance.”

On November 4 he talked to his son Nigel, who was then in

London. The young Conservative told his father that he was

“disgusted by the hypocrisy of Eden’s broadcast”.

Time passed, but Nicolson’s indignation continued:

“What is offensive to a decent Tory mind is that he [Eden]

has placed them in a false position by obliging them to say

things in their constituencies which they now know to have

been untrue.” The next day the diary carries another note:

“It meant much to me that a Prime Minister ... had told

his country a series of shameful lies.”

What exactly is referred to when Kden is thus spoken of

as having “lied”? The answer may be found in the minutes of

a meeting of the 1922 Committee (a group of Conservalive

Members of the House of Commons) which took place on

December 18, 1956. Eden addressed those present, and ended

his speech with these words: “As long as | live, | shall never

apologise for what we did.” Then Nigel Nicolson spoke, as

one of those “who were disloyal to the Prime Minister”.

tle said that the Egyptian operation had been not only

inexpedient but wrong in principle. “It was undertaken in

such a way as to force honourable men, including the Prime

Minister himself, to make use of ... arguments which were

in themselves dishonourable. | have been shocked by the

series of half-traths which we have been obliged to tell to

justify our action.”

The younger Nicolson continued: “I needn’t specify them

because they are nearly all familiar. lremonger raised one

338

of them just now—the charge of collusion. Why did the

Prime Minister not give him a more direct denial? Then there

is the difference between the French and the British expla-

nations of why we did not tell the Americans. And the

legend that we have ‘helped the UN’. Let me add a fourth.

What did the Prime Minister mean when he said just now

that ‘we did everything we could by warning’ to stop the

Israel-Arab war? Whom did we warn of what?... This is the

sort of thing | mean by ‘half-truths’.”

Iden replied to the accusations. “Of course,” he said, “there

was something unpleasant about our action. Surely you

don’t imagine that M. Mollet and I enjoyed going behind

the back of the Americans and the United Nations? But

what was the alternative?... | can understand what Mr. Nic-

olson means by ‘half-truths’. Some—and if they existed

at all, they were not serious or many in number—were

necessary, and always are, in this sort of operations.” Thus

was the Prime Minister of Great Britain, and leader of the

Conservative Party, obliged to admit officially the lying

and deceit he had employed during the Suez crisis.

flow could the Tory Party continue, after this, to accept

as its guiding light a man who had been obliged, as Eden

had, to admit to dishonourable conduct? After this, how

could the electorate trust the Conservatives and give them

their votes? The upper echelons of the party knew they could

not, and this led to sharp internal friction and strife.

The accusation laid at Eden’s door was not that he had

failed. Anyone in politics can suffer a failure. The Prime

Minister stood accused of something else: that he had guided

affairs in such a way as to discredit his party and the Brit-

ish political system. That is why the open anti-Liden revolt

started in the ranks of his own Cabinet colleagues and was

then taken up in the Parliamentary group of the Conserva-

tive Party, and in the upper Civil Service (the Foreign Of-

fice especially) not after the three aggressor countries had

been foiled, but immediately following the ultimatum to

Egypt, which was rightly taken by all as a declaration of

war. Indeed, after the cease-fire the “revolt” began to die down.

The delivery of the ultimatum to Egypt was also the mo-

ment which saw the high point of the protest movement

against I:den’s policy, which had been gathering momentum for

three months, taking in more and more of the general popu-

lation as it progressed, and eventually sweeping with it the

Labour Party and the TUC.

22° 339

ies et

On October 31 the Under-Secretary of State at the For-

eign Oflice, Anthony Nutting, resigned in prolest against

the policy over Suez. His example was followed by Boyle,

Under-Secretary at the Exchequer. Another resignation,

that of William Clark, Eideu’s press secretary, caused a sen-

sation. He decided to quit Downing Street after the Con-

servalive Chief Whip instructed him to tell the press that

Nulting’s resignation was nol a political matter but on

health grounds, which was untrue. Another reason for Clark’s

resignation was, in his own words, that the government tried

to use confidential channels of communication with the

press and the BBC for the dissemination of versions of events

which were known to be incorrect.

A group of Conservative MPs was formed, some 15 strong,

which came out against the policy of the iden Government

during the Suez crisis. It was headed by Alec Spearman.

The members of the group wrote letters of protest to Eden.

Alt the Foreign Oflice a group of Under-Secretaries and

other senior civil servants, who had devoled much time and

labour to building up the “special relationship” with the

USA, wrote a round robin condemning the military attack

on Egypt. Gerald Fitzmaurice, legal adviser at the Foreign

Oflice, issued a memorandum criticising the legal grounds

ciled for military action against Egypt. Some junior mem-

bers of staff resigned. At the F.O. they were very displeased

because Eden was acting without asking the advice of the

diplomats. Llistory was repeating itself: it was Just the way in

which Neville Chamberlain had behaved tweuty years before.

Immediately after the cease-fire there was a Parliamentary

debale lasting several days. Many hard things were said,

but the debate was not, in the last ,resort, really any

great threat to the Eden Government. Conservative Mem-

bers rallied round fairly unitedly to defend the government’s

actions. The theme-song of their defence was the old, well-

worn refrain of “the Soviet threat”. It was familiar, and

pleasing, to right-wing Labour as well as Conservative ears.

“On 8 November,” writes Macmillan, “Peter Thorneycroft,

President of the Board of Trade, made a great impression

by his robust defence of the Government’s position. He boldly

declared that the plans of the Russian Government had

included a take-over of the Middle East... The Anglo-French

intervention had stopped this.” As usual in such cases, no

proof of the allegations was provided. And there could be no

such proof.

340

The Parliamentary finale to the Suez affair went off,

on the whole, quite well for Eden. No one moved a vote of no

confidence in the government. In the vote on a motion ap-

proving the government’s actions, only 15 Conservative

Members (some sources say only eight) abstained. Two con-

clusionscan be drawn from this. Firstly, that the overwhelm-

ing majority of the Conservative Party were behind Eden’s

Suez policy, even after military intervention had ended in

disaster. Secondly, that there were no formal grounds at

that stage, as it appeared, for Eden’s resignation.

On the surface all was calm, or as calm as it could he

under the circumstances. But deep down processes were in

motion which led inevitably to Eden’s departure. In lead-

ing Conservative circles there was discussion, kept very

secret, of what should be his fate. He himself was of course

aware of it and on November 23, citing the recommenda-

tions of his medical advisers, he went off to Jamaica for

a holiday. A rest would certainly do him no harm, but even

more important, he could wait to see, and think over at

leisure, what would happen next.

Anthony and Clarissa Eden spent their holiday at a villa

lent them by a friend. During the Prime Minister’s absence,

Cabinet meetings were chaired by R. A. Butler, Minister

without Portfolio. Eden was given full information by wire

of the government’s activities, and sanctioned its decisions.

But it was not possible to spend too long under the sun

(pleasantly warm at that time of year) and the blue skies of

Jamaica. On December 14, 1956, Eden returned to London

hale and*hearty, well-rested and in fighting spirit, which

hardly seemed to foreshadow resignation in the near future.

But symptoms soon appeared which made it clear that

Eden’s affairs were not in too good a state. On December 18

there was a meeting of the 1922 Committee. It showed that

Conservatives did not condemn the use of force against Arabs

on principle, but that they were indignant over the way in

which the government had gone about it. The idea was all

very well, but its execution had heen faulty and had done

Britain no good.

It is worthy of note that Hugh Thomas, commenting on

this’ meeting of the 1922 Committee, concludes that in the

upshot of the discussion those present—or some of them

at least—were left feeling that “Eden was no longer able

to carry out the business of being Prime Minister”.

Matters were made more difficult by the fact that dis-

341

satisfaction with the head of government had been brewing

for quite some time. Randolph Churchill remarks that even

if there had been no Suez crisis he would not have long en-

dured as Prime Minister. “Well before the Suez crisis many of

his colleagues were beginning to doubt whether he had the

firmness of mind, the moral stamina, the breadth of vision

essential to a British Prime Minister in these ... years.”

A part in this was also played, of course, by the ambi-

tions of those lining up for office, the top rank of the Con-

servative Party. Whatever the politicians concerned may

say or write, however much they swear they were guided

only by thoughts of their country’s good, it is clear that

they did not intend to miss the opportunity, presented to

them by the failure of Eden’s Middle Eastern policy, of

getting rid of him as Prime Minister. Thomas asserts that

“personal hatreds seem to have played a major part in events”,

i.e. in the change of Premier. “Neither Butler nor Macmil-

lan,” he says, “admired Eden; the latter found him too

feminine, the former too unintellectual.”

There were, at the time, only these two serious contend-

ers for the post of Premier. It is interesting that Macmil-

Jan was an enthusiastic supporter of the attack on Egypt,

while Butler was to start with a rather lukewarm supporter,

and by the end an open opponent of the Suez venture. One

might think that that would give Butler the advantage—he

had been against the policy which had just proved bankrupt.

But British Conservatives follow a logic all their own...

When it became clear to Eden that the Tory leaders had

reached an unwritten decision that he was to be removed, he

did his best to stage-manage his own departure as decently

as possible. His past medical history made it quite possible

to do this. That way out suited him and his party equally

well. The medical men, of course, did what was necessary.

On January 8, 1957, Eden and his wife went on an unof-

ficial visit to the Queen at Sandringham (one of her out-of-

town residences). Here Eden informed Elizabeth II that

he would have to resign. The Queen promised to go up to

London the next day in order to receive his official resigna-

tion, which had to be made at Buckingham Palace.

On January 9 Eden summoned his Cabinet colleagues to-

gether and told them that the doctors advised him to re-

sign. Neither he nor Macmillan say anything to suggest that

anyone made any objection. Only regrets were expressed —

as politeness dictates.

342

When the Cabinet meeting was over, Eden left, and after

him Butler and Macmillan. The Marquess of Salisbury, who

was Lord President of the Council, and Lord Kilmuir, the

Lord Chancellor, took the initiative as senior Ministers and

called in the members of government, one by one, and spoke

with each on who should succeed Eden. The overwhelming

majority of government Ministers, and later of Members of

Parliament, were in favour of Macmillan. Eden was by this

time making his resignation to the Queen.

Officially the Queen did not know the result of the en-

quiries made by Salisbury and Kilmuir. So the situation was

that she had the right, under the Constitution, to entrust

the formation of a government to any representative of the

majority Party in the Commons. This is a situation which

only rarely arises in British political life.

The following day the Queen summoned Sir Winston Chur-

chill and the Marquess of Salisbury and asked their advice.

They gave Macmillan as their choice. So at 2 o’clock in the

afternoon of January 10 Harold Macmillan was summoned to

Buckingham Palace, and emerged vested with the powers of

Prime Minister of Great Britain.

Macmillan was expected to mend the fences Eden had

broken, and to guide the ship of state with greater caution.

As Randolph Churchill writes in the foreword to his book on

Eden: “Britain’s situation in the world today is on the de-

cline. This process can only be arrested if we brush all false

sentimentality aside and try to see the harsh facts of life

as they are, with no distortion of class or party.” Sage ad-

vice, but it asks for the impossible. British statesmen can-

not, even if they wished to, abstract themselves in what they

do from all considerations of party and class interest. Nor

could Macmillan do so.

Like his predecessors, Harold Macmillan was incapable

of realising that the revolutionary changes taking place in

the contemporary world are irreversible, and that British

policy must therefore of necessity go on suffering one defeat

after another unless it takes these factors into account.

This is the source of the lack of success for British policies

which is to be observed during the terms in office of all the

Conservative Prime Ministers who have followed after Sir

Anthony Eden.

After his’ resignation Eden went to Chequers}for a few

days. Then he took up an invitation from Sidney Holland,

the Prime Minister of New Zealand, to go and spend the

343

English winter months in that distant, tranquil and beau-

tiful country. It was a long way to go. On January 18 the

steamer with Eden and his wife on board left Tilbury Docks.

Their friends went down to see them off. Someone from the

French Embassy brought a bouquet of roses, with the com-

pliments of his government. The steamer moved slowly down

the Thames to the North Sea, and was soon hidden in the

cold mists of winter.

The political career of Anthony Eden was at an end.

Epilogue

Any activity can give rise to mistakes. The only human

being who makes no mistakes is the one who does nothing.

But Eden’s political bankruptcy was not just the result of

mistakes made in the second half of 1956.

One could say Eden was the victim of confrontation:

the millstones of the world confrontation between socialism

and capitalism crushed this eminent politician whose luck

finally ran out. And that would be true, in a way.

One cansuppose that Eden’s bankruptcy is to be explained

by the crisis of British imperialism, which is less and

less able to command the power to outface its opponents.

That interpretation too would be true enough.

These are the objective factors which set the full stop

at the end of Eden’s political career.

But there is the subjective side to be considered as well.

And this has its roots in the deep-seated and serious mal-

ady which not only afflicted Eden, but has affected and

still affects the ruling circles of Britain. The main feature

of this}malady is the inability to formulate and carry out

a realistic policy.

There was a time—roughly one hundred years ago—when

Britain was the most powerful commercial and industrial

nation there was, and by virtue of that fact played the lead-

ing part in world politics. But that time is long since past,

the balance of power in the world has changed radically, and

Britain no longer has the economic or the military might to

dominate the world. The material conditions for that former

domination have been swept away by the revolutionary pro-

cesses taking place in the 20th century, and by the unevenness

of development of the states within the capitalist system.

Yet the statesmen of Britain, particularly those belong-

ing to the Conservative Party, still try to act as though

the world of today is the same as it was a hundred years ago.

345

The result of this massive time-lag between the political

thinking of British ruling circles and the real possibilities

open to their state can be seen in the numerous fiascos—

they have almost become a rule—suffered by Britain’s for-

eign policy.

If one discards the rainbow-tinted propaganda camouflage

of British policy (every politician does his best, in his own

interests, to present even his obvious failures as successes),

and assesses the results of this policy objectively, i.e. by

the degree to which it achieved or was unable to achieve

ils aims, then one cannot help but reach the conclusion that

British policy on all major issues has been a failure. Bour-

geois Britain and its allies tried to halt the advance of the

human race along the road of socialism—and was unable to

(lo so. She tried to destroy the movement for national liber-

ation and preserve her colonial empire—and suffered hope-

less defeat. Bourgeois Britain still carries on the age-long

struggle for dominant position in Europe, but throughout

the 20th century she has suffered one defeat after another

in that struggle, and is now further away from her goal

than ever before. This is the direct result of the country’s

governments having set themselves—and of their still setting

themselves—clearly unrealistic aims.

Having noted that important aspect of British foreign

policy, it would be wrong not to give due weight to the real

possibilities open to contemporary Britain in the sphere of

international relations. In a message sent by the head of

the Soviet Government to the British Prime Minister in

April 1957, there is this passage: “We are not inclined to

belittle, as it has become fashionable to do in some quar-

ters recently, the role which Great Britain continues to play

in the international arena as a great industrial, commercial

and naval power. Soviet people cherish feelings of deep re-

spect for the courageous and industrious people of your

country, which has enriched the human race by impressive

examples of what man’s labour, practised over centuries,

can produce, as well as by remarkable discoveries and achieve-

ments in the fields of science, technology, literature and

art.”

But Eden and his colleagues, and the whole Conservative

Party, were still in a world of delusions, dreaming of a re-

naissance of Britain’s former imperial greatness. Yearn-

ings for “the good old days” of empire were to be found in

right-wing Labour breasts also.

346

Underlying this British attitude to the rest of the world,

though, are not idealistic motives, but entirely material

class interest. The ruling classes long to bring back the con-

ditions under which their interests were best served.

André Maurois, biographer of many notable figures in

world history and culture, once remarked: “Man does not

wield power, power wields the man.” There is undoubtedly a

rational kernel in that. Eden’s actions were determined by

the interests and the psychology of those who wield power in

Britain. He belonged to those circles himself, he shared their

delusions and their prejudices, and he acted in their interests.

The apologists of British Conservatism assert that the

Eden of the thirties was quite different to the Eden of 1956,

that the Suez “failure” was an exception in his political

biography. In thus white-washing Eden, they are also doing

their best to defend the reputation of the Conservative Party.

Certainly people change very considerably, in the course

of their lives. Eden too changed, under the influence of time,

evenls and new conditions.

But he was distinguished by great consistency in adhering

to his basic convictions and principles, those which formed

and defined his political position. It was a class position,

and Eden was faithful to it throughout the whole of his

political career. He was always seeking to further British

dominance in international relations, he always acted to

preserve colonialism, and hence to oppose the national liber-

ation movement; he never laid down his arms in the fight

against socialism, either within Britain or outside it. In

this sense there is no basic difference between Kden in, say,

1936, and Eden in 1956.

It is taken as generally accepled that in 1956 Eden did

not show enough of the will-power and determination re-

quired of a British Prime Minister. And indeed the Suez war

confirmed an old truth: a weak personality may be able to

lead a government successfully in “normal” times, but in

crisis such a leader will inevitably be thrown overboard,

and will bring great troubles upon his country.

Was it known in 1955 that Eden was a good second fiddle

in government, but had not the qualities needed for success-

fully playing the leading part? Yes, it was known. Why then

did the ruling circles hand him power in April 1955? The

usual answer given to this question in Britain falls into two

parts. Firstly, there was no one stronger than Eden available

among top Conservatives at the time. Macmillan and Butler

347

were both men of much the same calibre. Secondly, back in

1942 Churchill had officially proclaimed Eden as his suc-

cessor. Churchill gave his recommendation of Eden to George

VI, but it was the latter’s daughter Elizabeth II who was

to act upon it. It was his position as “heir apparent” that

gave Eden the advantage over Macmillan and Butler. It is

hard to say why Churchill made the choice he did—and he

stuck to it for 13 years; perhaps he really was sure that

there was no one to hand in the party who would be stronger

than Eden; perhaps it was an example of a tendency which

can be noted quite often among bourgeois leaders—to keep

close to them and train up as their successors men of lesser

scope and ability than themselves. Whichever it was, it is

Churchill who must bear some of the responsibility for what

was done by Eden.

Biographers like to compare Eden and Churchill. It seems

likely that given the same conditions, Churchill would have

made the same miscalculation as Eden, i.e. he too would

have tried to use force to restore British “rights” in the Mid-

dle East. But he would have found a way of his own out of

the impasse; the greater strength and individuality of his

character, his political flexibility and ability to manoeuvre

would have come to the fore then. Churchill was a dour

fighter; several times he succeeded in extricating himself

from an apparently hopeless position. In 1945, as First

Lord of the Admiralty, he initiated the Dardanelles opera-

tion. It was a terrible disaster, and Churchill was dismissed.

Soon he was made a Minister once more, though. This time

defeat awaited him over the intervention against Soviet

Russia. That cost him his ministerial portfolio and his seat

in the House of Commons. But in 1924 there is Churchill in

the Cabinet again. In the thirties too major failures beset

him. But when the Second World War began and men of

true ability were needed, Churchill was up in the saddle

again, and once up he stayed there longer than ever before.

Eden was quite another matter. For him, whose personali-

ty had not enough force in it, the first failure was the last—

the end of his political career once and for all.

There were otherfdifferences between them. Churchill was

a man of talent in many directions. When he was out of office,

he wrote books. He had definite literary gifts, and their

exercise earned him in the end a considerable financial re-

ward, and great popularity. He was a keen painter, and had

considerable talent in that field too. On each successive

348

occasion when he found himself ejected from government,

life did not stop for Churchill, it just moved on to another

stage.

Eden had no iery feelings and multifarious interests.

He never in his life took any action dictated by strong feel-

ing rather than by reason. He scarcely had any real friends.

For Eden everything was concentrated in his career, every-

thing was subordinated to the climb upwards. So, as his

career had been the essence aud meaning of his life, when

that ended he had little left.

Not that the ex-Premier was forgotten by those whom

he had served so faithfully for so many years. Although the

Conservative Party had made him the scapegoat after the

disaster of 1956, Eden was none the less generously rewarded.

He became Earl of Avon.

When he returned from his holiday in New Zealand, in

the spring of 1957, the retired Premier began to, write

his Memoirs. lle was allowed full access to government pa-

pers for this purpose. Eden was in a hurry to justify him-

self to his contemporaries and before history, so he began

at the end rather than the beginning.

In 1959 one fat volume was completed, and published

under the title Full Circle. It deals with its writer’s activi-

ties from October 1951 to January 18, 1957. This was the

period which started with Eden becoming Foreign Secretary

for the last time and ended with him ceasing to be Prime

Minister. After this first volume the others followed a more

normal chronological pattern. In 1962 he finished work on

the volume entitled Facing the Dictators, which covered

events from 1923 to February 1938, the last month being

that in which Eden resigned from the Chamberlain Govern-

ment.

The third volume was called The Reckoning, and was com-

pleted in 1964. It dealt with the eve of the Second World

War, and the war itself.

Twelve years later, in 1976, one more volume appeared,

the last one, which its author called Another World: 1897-

1917. Eden in it recalls his childhood in the Edwardian era,

but contrives to tell the reader very little about himself

or about what went on in his family. He was true to himself

till the end, and kept his inner world a sealed book.

Memoirs are a very popular genre. Readers turn to mem-

oirs in hopes of finding there more specific, humanly de-

tailed material than there would be in, say, works of his-

349

torical research —something that will help them to a deeper

appreciation of the truth. But as a rule the reader gets

less than he expects.

Political memoirs have a wide currency, but they often

take the reader away from the historical truth rather than

bringing it closer to him. In general, their fault is that their

authors are projecting their own persona, white-washing

their own actions and blackening those of their opponents,

dragging in all sorts of supplementary material for the pur-

pose of justifying their government’s policy, their party,

their class. As a rule this is done quite deliberately, for

specific political, class purposes. In 1978 the International

Journal of Middle East Studies had an apt remark in one of

its articles, which ran: “Historians, among others, expose

the lies and deceptions of politicians, dead and alive.”

Many awaited the publication of Eden’s Memoirs with

interest. And were disappointed. The writer had never been

a good stylist, nature had failed to endow him with liter-

ary talent. It was noted eartier in this book that KEden’s

specches showed a poverty of thought and an excess of well-

worn clichés. It was the same when he wrote his Memoirs.

But one more “merit” had been added. He relates and ex-

plains events in the language of diplomatic documents and

speeches. This means that the sense is buried somewhere

deep in a thicket of nicely-turned diplomatic formulations,

and it is extremely difficult to win through to it. In the

course of thirty years’ work in the diplomatic field Eden had

acquired and made his own for ever this mode of expounding

(or concealing) his thoughts. His Memoirs are written in just

this kind of language.

The reader is likely to be disappointed in another re-

spect too. Eden was a very cautious man who tried never to

offend anyone, either living or already long gone to a better

world, and he skirts around all ticklish themes, telling us

nothing that we did not already know, by and large, from

other available literature.

A perusal of the testament of the “hero” of Suez tells us

that Eden had learned nothing from history, had drawn no

lessons from his own mistakes and failures. He also remained

true to his own strongest political feeling—hatred of the

USSR. All the troubles of Britain and the “free world” in

the period after the Second World War are attributed by him

to the acts of the Soviet Union. Not that there is anything

original in that.

350

So, the Memoirs were written, and brought ont by the best

publishers in Britain and the United States, and brought

in quite a nice little income; and with that Eden was content.

lle lived with Clarissa amid the beauties of nature, on his

estate of Alvediston in Wiltshire. He painted water-colours,

and grew flowers. Friends frequently invited the Edens to

stay with them, in the Bahamas or in American resorts.

tle liked these trips, which brought some variety into their

even lives.

Once Eden received the well-known Soviet journalist

Melor Sturua at Alvediston. Naturally the conversation

touched upon Eden’s personal drama as being an integral

part of London’s Suez adventure.

Occasionally Eden would go up to London, sometimes

he would give signs of life by granting an interview to a

British or American journalist, or by publishing an article.

In one of these he warned his readers, and the leaders of

the Western world, against contemplating peaceful coex-

istence with the Soviet Union. In another, he took up the

cudgels against detente, the establishment of a stable peace,

the creation of a system of collective security and cooperation

in lurope.

In January 1977 Eden was taking a holiday in Florida,

USA, al the villa of the well-known millionaire and diplomat

(during the Second World War), Averell Harriman. A year

previously Eden had been found to be suffering from cancer

of the liver. Now he realised that he was in a bad way. The

doctors judged his state to be critical. The British Govern-

ment sent a military plane to bring him back to Britain.

In his home at Alvediston, Anthony Eden died in his sleep,

at the age of 79. Twenty years had passed since he resigned

as Prime Minister.

Anthony Eden was buried quietly, without fuss, at a

family ceremony with only relatives and close friends pres-

ent, there at Alvediston. The title of Lord Avon was inher-

ited by his son Nicholas. He had not followed in his father’s

footsteps, but became a “commercial banker”.

The British and the American press responded to liden’s

death by printing calm, not over-extensive obituaries, though

The New York Times went so far as to devote a whole col-

umn to the deceased’s life and work. It is an interesting

point that the American publications spoke more warmly of

Eden than did the British. Nothing new emerged in the

press on the high points of Eden’s life—his attitude to “ap-

351

peasement”, his resignation from the Chamberlain Govern-

ment, his part in the Suez war of 1956. No one numbered

Eden among the outstanding statesmen, but all noted his

great merils as a diplomat and a masterly negotiator. It was

the British weekly The Economist which produced the most

serious and profound assessment of Eden. “Anthony Eden

died last Friday, at a time when historians can already begin

to understand him,” it said on January 22, 1977. And the

journal itself made a very good attempt at a brief summing-

up calling him the man “who arrived after his time”. And

just to make the point perfectly plain, The Economist headed

its article “At Empire’s End”. And it is the truth that Antho-

ny Eden was a diplomat and politician who pursued the aims

and used the methods characteristic of British imperialism

in the time of the British Empire’s might and power. But in

the mid-fifties that was all in the past.

Reading this present book, some may feel inclined to

reproach its author for harsh treatment of his hero. But there

you are, the assessments made in this book are based on pre-

cise facts, nol on Eden's words but on his deeds. At least

such was the author’s intention.

In his monograph, V. Trukhanoysky, Corresponding Member

of the USSR ‘Academy of Sciences and a specialist on

contemporary British history, presents a political biography

of the famous British diplomat, Foreign Minister and Prime

Minister, Anthony Eden, who played an important role in

British foreign policy from the 1930s to the 1950s.

This political portrait of Anthony Eden also serves to

illustrate Anglo-Soviet, Anglo-American and Anglo-European

relations, particularly in the immediate pre-war years.

The author devotes specific attention to Eden’s political

activity during the creation of the anti-Hitler coalition and

in the post-war period.

This book represents a notable contribution to the

elaboration of the history of international relations, and

will be of interest to the wide readership.

ees