The reasons for the Germans’ submission to Hitler’s powers of suggestion must first be sought in the failure of policy as manifested by the victor nations after the First World War. This policy prepared the ground in which the seeds of National-Socialism were to take root; it gave us unemployment, heavy reparations, oppressive annexation of territory, lack of freedom, lack of equality, lack of military strength. When the victorious nations, in drafting the Versailles Treaty, failed to observe President Wilson’s Fourteen Points the Germans lost their trust in the good faith of the Great Powers. As a result, the man who now promised to free them from the bondage of Versailles had a relatively easy task, particularly since the formal democracy of the Weimar Republic, try though it might, could achieve no significant successes in the diplomatic field and at home proved incapable of mastering Germany’s internal difficulties. So when Hitler promised both internal and external political improvement he soon had many followers, until at last a point was reached where he controlled the largest party in the land and thus, according to democratic procedure, assumed power. The soil had truly been well tilled. In consequence the Germans cannot rightly be accused of being any more suggestible than other nations.
Hitler promised the Germans that abroad he could free them from the injustices of Versailles and that at home he would abolish unemployment and party strife. These were aims which were entirely desirable and with which any good German must agree. Who would not have approved of them? At the beginning of his career this programme, to which all decent Germans heartily subscribed, brought him the support of those millions of men who were beginning to doubt the ability of their politicians and the good will of their former enemies. As one futile conference succeeded the last, as reparations grew more intolerable, as our inequality was increasingly protracted, so more and more men turned to the swastika. It is necessary to remember the almost desperate condition of Germany as 1932 became 1933. More than six millions of unemployed, that is to say, with their dependants, twenty-five millions of hungry human beings; the demoralisation of the younger working men, who now simply lounged about at the street corners in Berlin and the other big cities; the increase in crime—all this gave the Communists six million votes. And these millions would doubtless have increased if Hitler had not drawn them to him and given them fresh ideals and a new faith.
It must also be remembered that shortly before this France and Great Britain had refused to allow an economic union between Germany and Austria, although such a union would have brought about a limited improvement to the economies of both countries concerned and could in no way have been politically dangerous to the two Western Powers. Austria at the time stood on the very brink of economic catastrophe as a result of the Treaty of St. Germains, the counterpart of the Treaty of Versailles; it cannot exist without economic coordination with some large industrial area; now it is to be hoped that a European economic union will solve this problem. At that time the prohibition of any sort of Austro-German economic union served to embitter even the most clear-headed and ‘westward-looking’ Germans, since it was a sign of senselessness and of undisguised ill-will on the part of the victor nations—and that, twelve years after the end of the war and six years after the admission of Gennany to the League of Nations. Men in a position to judge the situation as it then was have claimed that this played an important part in Hitler’s electoral successes during the years 1931 and 1932.
In any event the time came at last when Hitler had collected together so strong a party that it could no longer be ignored. The Field-Marshal President von Hindenburg, after long struggling with his conscience, finally appointed him Chancellor; this was certainly an extremely difficult decision for the old President to make and, like him, many Germans disapproved both of Hitler personally and of the manner in which he behaved.
Once in power Hitler soon eliminated the opposition. The violent way in which this was done showed a new side to the nascent dictator’s nature. He need make no attempt to disguise this aspect of his character, since the opposition was weak and divided and collapsed almost without a blow being struck as soon as it was strongly attacked. As a result Hitler was able to pass those laws by which he broke the safeguards that the Weimar Republic had thought to erect against the dictatorship of any individual man.
This ruthless elimination of all internal opposition culminated in the brutal murder of Roehm. A number of further assassinations of men who had nothing whatever to do with Roehm was simultaneously carried out for quite other reasons and without Hitler’s approval; but these crimes went unpunished. The Field-Marshal President, standing as he was in the shadow of death, was no longer able to intervene. But at that time Hitler still felt that he must apologise to the Officer Corps for the murder of General von Schleicher, and he promised the Corps that such an event would never occur again.
That no retribution could be demanded for the crimes of June 30th, 1934, was already a clear indication of the dangers that threatened Germany. But that was not all; it also increased greatly Hitler’s consciousness of his own power. A law had been cleverly passed which settled the problem of the succession after Hindenburg’s death, and an equally cleverly organised plebiscite made him legally the Head of the State.
Hitler was asked whether he intended to establish and legalise his position by the re-introduction of the monarchy. Later on, when discussing this question with officers in Berlin, he said that he had given it a great deal of consideration. He had, however, found only one case in all history of a wise monarch tolerating the presence of an outstanding chancellor, recognising his achievements, and being prepared to keep him in office and to collaborate with him as his partner in political matters until the end: he was referring to Kaiser William I and Bismarck. In all history he could find no other example of so magnanimous and wise a monarch. He had discussed the question with his friend Mussolini, but what the latter had told him of his difficulties with the Italian King had made him reluctant to saddle himself with the burden of a reinstated monarchy.
Hitler chose dictatorship.
And his dictatorship achieved a number of outstanding successes: the disappearance of unemployment, the raising of the workers’ morale, the re-creation of national feeling, the elimination of party strife. It would be wrong not to grant him the credit for these achievements.
Once his internal power was affirmed, Hitler turned to his external political programme. The return of the Saar, the re-introduction of military self-determination, the occupation of the Rhineland, the incorporation of Austria—all these were completed to the delight of the German nation and with the toleration, and even the approval, of foreign powers. Indeed, the foreign nations now showed a profound understanding for the rightful claims of the German people, and the Western countries in particular, with a true feeling for justice, recognised the tragic errors of the Versailles Treaty. Hitler’s task was more difficult when he undertook the liberation of the Sudetenland, a territory that had suffered for twenty years from the undeniably overbearing nationalism of the Czechs. The Czech State was bound by alliance to the French Republic. Its creation in 1918 was the result of a misapplication of the principle concerning the self-determination of nationalities, but to attempt to rectify that mistake now was to run the risk of war with France. Hitler judged the statesmen of the Western Powers according to the impressions they had so far made on him. His highly developed political instinct told him that the majority of Frenchmen, and the more important French politicians, would not regard the rectification of this palpable injustice as a proper cause for war. His judgment of the probable reaction of the British, with whom he was anxious to live in peace, was similar. He was not wrong. The British Prime Minister, Chamberlain, and the French Premier, Daladier, came to Munich, as did Hitler’s friend Mussolini, and the four statesmen signed an agreement authorising the Germans to move against Czechoslovakia. This agreement was based principally upon the opinion of the politically far-sighted British observer, Lord Runciman. The immediate result
of the Munich pact was the preservation of peace, but it all served to increase Hitler’s self-confidence and his consciousness of power vis-à-vis the West. No matter how worthily the Western statesmen may have represented their countries’ true interests, so far as Hitler was concerned their ultimate willingness to compromise was valueless since it had only been exacted from them under the threatening pressure of his own personality. The warnings of those Germans who knew the British people fell on deaf ears, and indeed only served to reinforce Hitler in his preconceived ideas.
By the beginning of 1938 Hitler had gained control of all the machinery of government of Germany, and only one organisation was left which might still offer serious resistance to his regime, the Army. Therefore, shortly before the incorporation of Austria, the Army was cleverly and irresponsibly deprived of its leaders in the Blomberg’Fritsch crisis. The pill was immediately sugar-coated with the success of the anschluss. The representatives of the Army at the time, clear-sighted though powerless, did not protest. The true significance of what had happened remained unknown to the majority of the generals and even more so to the Army as a whole. Any intentions towards rebellion on the part of those few who were aware of what was going on remained purely theoretical or, at most, never got beyond the form of memoranda. Externally these men preserved the appearance of loyalty. Not so much as a murmur of a threat, let alone of actual resistance, reached the ears of any wider group, even within the Armed Forces. Furthermore, as one year succeeded the next, the opposition within the Army was continually weakened, since the new age groups that were now called to the colours had already served in the Hitler Youth, and in the National Labour Service or the Party, and had thus already sworn allegiance to Hitler. The Corps of Officers, too, became year by year more impregnated with young National-Socialists.
Thus Hitler’s self-confidence grew, and, as his power became more firmly established in both external and internal matters, so he developed an over-bearing arrogance which made everything and everybody appear to him quite unimportant in comparison to himself. This attitude of his assumed unhealthy proportions owing to the mediocrity and, indeed, insignificance of the men he had summoned to fill the most important appointments in the Third Reich. Up to this time Hitler had been receptive to practical considerations, and had at least listened to advice and been prepared to discuss matters with others; now, however, he became increasingly autocratic. One example of this change in his behaviour is furnished by the fact that after 1938 the Cabinet never again met. The Ministers did their work in accordance with the instructions issued by Hitler to each of them singly. There was no longer any collective examination of major policy. Many Ministers from then on never, or only very seldom, saw Hitler at all. While the Ministers were attempting to carry out their duties through the normal channels of authority a new bureaucracy of the Party came into existence, parallel to that of the State. Hitler’s slogan: ‘The State does not control the Party: the Party controls the State,’ had created an entirely novel situation. Administrative power passed into the hands of the Party, that is to say of the Gauleiters. These men were appointed, not on account of their qualifications for high administrative office, but because of their achievements within the Party; and in such appointments sufficient attention was by no means always paid to the suitability of the man’s character.
Since many Party functionaries attempted to copy Hitler’s ruthlessness in achieving their aims, political morals soon tumbled. The national administration was emasculated.
It was the same story with the judiciary. The fateful Authorisation Act entitled the dictator to give his regulations the force of law without the approval of parliament being necessary. But even if the regulations had required the seal of parliament, this would have made no difference to the course of events, since after 1934 the parliament was only theoretically elected by universal suffrage and secret ballot. The same state of affairs exists today in the Soviet Union.
By the spring of 1939 Hitler’s hubris had reached the point where he decided to incorporate Czechoslovakia into the Reich as a Protectorate. This step, it is true, was carried out without provoking actual war, but the grave warnings that now emanated from London should have caused him to stop and think. After the occupation of Czechoslovakia Memel was re-incorporated into the Reich. The position of Germany was now so powerful that there seemed no reason why the remaining outstanding national aspirations could not be left to solve themselves gradually and peacefully. But such a policy was quite foreign to Hitler. The reasons for this may be asked. And one of the first answers must be Hitler’s extraordinary premonition that he was to die an early death. ‘I know that I shall not live to be old. I have not much time to lose. My successors will possess less energy than I. They will be too weak to take the fateful decisions that must be taken. I, therefore, have to do it all myself during my own lifetime.’ And so he drove himself, his colleagues, his whole nation forward at a breathless pace along the road that he had chosen. ‘When Fortuna, the lucky goddess, flashes past in her golden chariot, that is the time to leap forward and to grasp the tip of her wand. If the opportunity is not then seized she will disappear for ever.’ And he leaped.
For the autumn of 1939 Hitler had determined on the elimination of the Polish Corridor as his objective. The proposals which he made to the Poles seem, in retrospect, to have been not too outrageous. But the Poles, and in particular the Polish Foreign Minister, Beck, were not interested in reaching a peaceful settlement. They preferred to rely on the British guarantee, which was offered them at a moment when they had not yet made up their minds what course they would pursue; the immediate consequence was that they chose war.1 When the die was cast Britain, and under Britain’s influence France, also, declared war on Germany. The Second World War had begun. Hitler’s intention that the war be limited to Poland had been frustrated.
Before starting the Polish war, Hitler had the foresight to secure his rear by means of an agreement with the Soviet Union. Thus to begin with the bogey of a war on two fronts seemed to be banished. In making this agreement, however, Hitler had been acting against the dictates of his own anti-bolshevik ideology in the interests of his national policy. His uncertainty concerning the nation’s reaction to this step was expressed to me during the luncheon in October 1939, at which I sat next to him.2 But the nation, and particularly the Army, were pleased to have their rear thus made secure, since a state of war on the wrong front—that is to say against the Western Powers—now existed. It is of course also certain that the German nation did not regard war against the Soviet Union as either necessary or desirable. They would have liked to see a fair peace made after the completion of the Western Campaign of 1940.
After that campaign Hitler was on the very pinnacle of success. There was, however, one fly in the ointment; the greater part of the British Expeditionary Force had escaped through Dunkirk. Winston Churchill was simply stating a fact when he said that, despite the casualties, Dunkirk was a victory, and in particular a victory of the British over the German air force.3 For in the skies above Dunkirk, and later over England, the Luftwaffe suffered such heavy casualties owing to its mistaken employment that it lost for ever its initial, if always limited, superiority.
The blame for the faulty use of the air force must be apportioned equally to Hitler and to Goering. Neither the bravery nor the military and technical ability of the Luftwaffe sufficed to compensate for the vanity of its Commander-in-Chief and for the indulgence that Hitler showed towards the ambitions of his principal disciple. Only much later did Hitler form a true picture of Goering’s worth—or rather worthlessness—but it is significant that on ‘grounds of policy' he always refused to replace him in an appointment that was, for better or for worse, decisive to the outcome of the war.
It has often been maintained that Hitler showed unshakable loyalty to his ‘old comrades.’ So far as Goering is concerned this was unfortunately true. It is also true that he frequently complained about him, but he never drew the correct
conclusions from his own observations.
The Western Campaign showed another facet of Hitler’s character. Hitler made his plans with great boldness. Norway was a courageous undertaking, as was the armoured break-through at Sedan. In both these cases he gave his approval to the boldest proposals. But when, in the execution of these plans, he was confronted by the first difficulty —in contrast to his unshakable pertinacity when faced by political trouble—he would give in, perhaps because he was instinctively aware of his lack of talent in the field of military science.
This happened in Norway, when the situation at Narvik grew serious and it became essential to keep one’s nerves under control and not to give in. In this particular case it was Lieutenant-Colonel von Lossberg and General Jodl who saved the day. It happened again at Sedan when it was a question of exploiting powerfully and rapidly a surprising, large-scale initial success which neither he nor his advisers anticipated. I was held up first on May 15th and then on May 17th, 1940, by Hitler’s orders. The fact that I did not stop was not thanks to Hitler. But the worst of all was the order not to advance across the Aa, outside Dunkirk,1 since it was solely on account of this that the British were able to withdraw into the fortress ahead of us and embark in their ships. If our panzer forces had been allowed a free hand we would, so far as it is possible to tell, certainly have reached Dunkirk before the Englishmen, who would, as a result, have been cut off. The resultant blow to English morale would have made an appreciable difference to the prospects of a successful German landing in England and might even have led to our enemies being willing to discuss peace terms despite Churchill.
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