In many ways it was the “worst day of the entire Dunkirk saga,” according to Lukacs. “The Germans ruled the air, with relatively little interference from the Royal Air Force … [The German dive-bombers were attacking] the columns of the British and French retreating along the dusty roads and lanes toward the town and port … [T]he British were systematically destroying their vehicles, stores, ordnance and other equipment”58 to prevent their use by the German army.
With the collapse of France imminent, it was far from clear whether Britain could fight on alone. A top secret report, commissioned by Churchill, indicated that Great Britain could successfully resist the Germans, provided that it maintained air superiority and the United States gave it substantial economic support. But both conditions were open to serious question. The United States had provided virtually no help and could not be counted on.59 Little wonder that Alexander Cadogan, an invited guest to the War Cabinet meeting that day, summarized the session as follows: “Cabinet at 11:30—as gloomy as ever. See very little light anywhere.”60
The War Cabinet didn’t take up Halifax’s proposal until late afternoon, by which time the ground had shifted. A key piece of news had arrived. The British ambassador to Rome had cabled that Mussolini would soon declare war on France and that “nothing we could do would be of any value at this stage, so far as Signor Mussolini was concerned.”61
Halifax was in a real bind. He could see that Italy probably could not be kept out of the war. But even so, Mussolini still might serve as a mediator, and Halifax was determined to keep this idea alive. French prime minister Reynaud, still desperately hoping to buy Italy off, had begged Halifax to present to the War Cabinet a plan for an even bolder and more concrete offer to Mussolini, one that specified with “geographical precision” exactly what would be given to Italy to stay out of the war.
Halifax brought Reynaud’s proposal to the War Cabinet and argued that something should be done to show support of France. Chamberlain agreed, saying that “the proposed French approach to Signor Mussolini would serve no useful purpose” but that he was willing to do so anyway in order to prevent the French from later claiming that Great Britain had stubbornly “been unwilling even to allow them the chance of negotiations with Italy.”62
Churchill would have none of this. He scorned the Halifax-Chamberlain argument as suggesting that “nothing would come of the approach, but that it was worth doing to sweeten relations with a failing ally.”63
At this point, an invited guest chimed in and explicitly gave Churchill the broader argument he had been searching for—one that rejected any approach to Italy for either of Halifax’s purposes. Archibald Sinclair, the air minister, was a Churchill supporter and, more important, head of the Liberal Party. During the previous evening’s debate, Churchill had shrewdly persuaded the cabinet to include Sinclair in the discussion of Halifax’s proposal. Sinclair now contended that an approach to Italy would be worse than futile: it would be actively harmful to British interests. Even appearing to be willing to negotiate would be disastrous. “Being in a tight corner, any weakness on our part would encourage the Germans and the Italians, and would tend to undermine morale both in this country and in the Dominions. The suggestion that we were prepared to barter away pieces of British territory would have a deplorable effect that would make it difficult for us to continue the struggle that faced us.” (Emphasis supplied.) Attlee and Greenwood warmed to this argument. Soon Greenwood was declaring that “[i]t would be heading for disaster to go any further with those approaches.”
Halifax felt compelled to clarify and explain: He was not supporting the French plan of specific concessions to Italy. Instead, he was simply proposing to keep the lines of communication with Italy open.
Churchill, perhaps sensing that he had been given his strongest argument and that the tide within the cabinet was running in his direction, boldly vowed that any approach to the Italians “would ruin the integrity of our fighting position in this country. … Even if we did not include geographical precision and mentioned no names, everybody would know what we had in mind.” With great passion he then went further: “[L]et us not be dragged down with France. If the French were not prepared to go on with the struggle, let them give up. … The best help we could give to M. Reynaud was to let him feel that, whatever happened to France, we were going to fight it out to the end.”
Perhaps fearing that the conflict between Churchill and his foreign secretary was about to spin out of control, Chamberlain tried to calm things down. He offered a compromise: “to keep the French in a good temper … our reply should not be a complete refusal.” Why not defer any response to France until Roosevelt first contacted Mussolini? But Churchill ignored the suggestion and instead made an even more provocative claim: “If the worse came to the worst” and Britain had to face Hitler alone, “it would not be a bad thing for this country to go down fighting for the other countries which had been overcome by the Nazi tyranny.”
Now this was crazy. Did it make any rational sense for Britain to sacrifice itself in a losing battle on behalf of occupied Europe? Did Churchill have any right, as a national leader, to sacrifice his countrymen on such a basis? In my opinion, absolutely not.
At this point Halifax was fed up with Churchill’s florid rhetoric. He pointed out that Churchill was contradicting himself right and left. The day before, Churchill had said “he would be thankful to get out of our present difficulties” on terms that preserved British independence, “even at the cost of some cession of territory.” Now Churchill was saying that “under no conditions would we contemplate any course except fighting to the finish.” The day before, Churchill had indicated that he wasn’t opposed to negotiation in general, as long as the timing was right. Now he was reneging on that, too.
Churchill softened somewhat, perhaps recognizing that he had gone too far. “If Herr Hitler was prepared to make peace on the terms of the restoration of German colonies and the overlordship of Central Europe, that was one thing,” he soothed. “But it was quite unlikely that he would make any such offer.”
In trying to placate Halifax, Churchill had created a new ambiguity, which Halifax went after. Was Churchill saying that he was simply waiting for Germany to make an offer? In Halifax’s view, such a scenario was not so hypothetical. “Suppose the French Army collapsed and Herr Hitler made an offer of peace terms,” Halifax challenged. “Suppose Herr Hitler, being anxious to end the war through knowledge of his own internal weaknesses, offered terms to France and England, would the Prime Minister be prepared to discuss them?” In effect, Halifax was pressing Churchill: Would he “consider any peace terms, at any time?”
Thanks to Halifax’s probing, Churchill finally clarified where he stood on peace negotiations: “He would not join France in asking for terms; but if he were told what the terms offered were, he would be prepared to consider them.” Nor was he prepared at this time to enter into any process in which Great Britain would appear to be signaling a willingness to negotiate peace terms with Hitler.64
At this point Halifax may well have been considering resignation. As he would confide to his diary later that night, “I thought Winston talked the most frightful rot, also Greenwood, and after bearing it for some time I told them exactly what I thought of them.” He then added, “If that was really their view, and if it came to the point, our ways must separate.”65
Churchill must have realized how close Halifax was to the edge, because he asked Halifax to join him for a private walk in the garden. There was not any record of what exactly was said, but Halifax’s biographer suggests Halifax again threatened to resign and that Churchill “was full of apologies and affection.”66 The biographer concludes, “However much annoyance he had shown, though, Halifax had no intention of resigning. Indeed, the more Churchill hectored, the more convinced he was of the necessity for him to stay. Eventually, he contented himself to confining his exasperation to his diary: ‘It does drive me to despair when [Churchill] works himself up into a passion of emotion when h
e ought to make his brain think and reason.’ ”67
Tuesday, May 28
On Tuesday morning, the news from the continent remained so bleak that the minister of information asked Churchill to make a public statement. For the first time in a week, Churchill appeared before the House of Commons and addressed the nation.
“The troops are in good heart,” he reported. “And are fighting with the utmost discipline and tenacity.” He provided no specifics but promised to offer a “detailed report” in about a week, “when the result of the intense struggle now going on can be known and measured.” In the meantime, “the House should prepare itself for hard and heavy tidings.” But he ended his speech with a rousing flourish that was typical of his wartime speeches: “nothing which may happen in this battle can in any way relieve us of our duty to defend the world cause to which we have vowed ourselves; nor should it destroy our confidence in our power to make our way, as on former occasions in our history, through disaster and through grief to the ultimate defeat of our enemies.”68
When the War Cabinet met shortly afterward, Halifax and Churchill crossed swords again. Their brief exchange returned to the core question. Halifax thought peace talks might still be possible if Britain sent a “clear indication that we should like to see mediation by Italy.”69 Churchill retorted that the whole idea of peace talks was a ruse by the French, who “were trying to get us on to the slippery slope” of negotiating with Germany. Churchill did not respond further. He had made up his mind. He knew he had the support of everyone in the War Cabinet except Halifax, who was isolated.
At this point, Churchill staged what several commentators have characterized as a “coup.” He adjourned the War Cabinet meeting until 7 p.m. and didn’t say where he was going. In the interval, he met with the approximately twenty-five members of the Outer Cabinet—all of his ministers except those in the War Cabinet. It was to this group, not the War Cabinet, that Churchill announced his decision: that he had considered negotiation with “That Man” and firmly rejected it.
“It was idle to think that if we try to make peace now we should get better terms from Germany than if we went on and fought it out,” Churchill told the ministers. “The Germans would demand our fleet—that would be called ‘disarmament’—our naval bases, and much else. We should become a slave state,” with a “puppet” British government under Oswald Mosley, the founder of the British Union of Fascists, or some similar Nazi sympathizer. Instead, Churchill proclaimed: “We shall go on and we shall fight it out … and if at last the long story is to end, it were better it should end, not through surrender, but only when we are rolling senseless on the ground.”70
His speech had an electrifying effect on his listeners. He received enthusiastic support, and not a single minister objected. Churchill would later describe how pleased and surprised he was that “twenty-five experienced politicians and Parliament men, who represented all the different points of view” about Britain’s policy toward Germany, would now be so supportive. “Quite a few seemed to jump up from the table and came running to my chair, shouting and patting me on the back.”71
When Churchill returned to the War Cabinet, he announced what he had done. He described—no doubt with great drama—the scene that had just unfolded before the Outer Cabinet: his ringing announcement that he would not negotiate with Hitler, his vow that “there was no chance of our giving up the struggle,” and the fervent support of the ministers. He expressed the “greatest satisfaction” at their response, saying he “did not remember having ever before heard a gathering of persons occupying high places in political life express themselves so emphatically” in support of Churchill’s decision to fight on, and not negotiate.72
Halifax offered no further dissent. Nor did he resign. Had he done so, especially if Chamberlain had joined him, there would have been a political crisis within the Conservative Party that might have threatened Churchill’s ability to remain prime minister.73 But Churchill had skillfully avoided that risk.
Later that year, Churchill sent Halifax to the United States as ambassador, essentially sidelining him for the rest of the war.
The evacuation from Dunkirk was far more successful than Churchill had any reason to expect.74 Nearly two hundred thousand troops were safely brought back to England.75 France fell as predicted, and Britain had to fight on alone. But through the Lend-Lease program, the United States began providing important materiel aid. During the summer and fall of 1940, the Royal Air Force maintained air superiority and Churchill maintained public morale during the Battle of Britain. As a result, Hitler gave up any thought of invading Great Britain and instead turned east and invaded the Soviet Union. This gave Britain an ally—the Soviets. By the end of 1941, the United States joined Great Britain and the Soviet Union in their fight against Germany. Eventually the Allies prevailed.
Assessment
Churchill’s speech to the Outer Cabinet was eloquent and stirring, and it epitomizes the rhetorical use of negative traps: he demonized Hitler’s regime and called his ministers to battle by invoking tribal loyalty. His later war speeches to the British people were equally stirring.
Earlier in the book, I said that if you’re a leader, you have an obligation to engage in rational analysis. You don’t have the right to act solely on your gut feelings or personal moral beliefs. You have to think things through, to consider the costs and benefits of your alternatives. Does Churchill’s decision pass this test?
My hunch is that without the benefit of the War Cabinet discussions, Churchill would never have thought through carefully whether to pursue the negotiation path. Even considering making a deal with Hitler was difficult for Churchill. It would have been completely inconsistent with his sense of self and his consciously crafted political identity. Churchill had warned of the dangers of German rearmament and Hitler’s megalomania long before others realized it. He was asked to become prime minister because he wanted to fight, not negotiate. To back down now and negotiate with a cruel enemy like Hitler, especially when Hitler was winning the war, would be publicly humiliating—even if some sort of reasonable deal could be struck. If, at some point, Churchill had come to believe that negotiation with Hitler would better serve Great Britain, he would have resigned and let others—such as Lloyd George—handle the negotiations.76
Churchill was strongly motivated by his personal moral beliefs and gut feelings. He saw Hitler and his Reich as evil. On a visceral level, he found the very idea of negotiating with Hitler to be repugnant. He believed that this kind of evil should be resisted, almost no matter what the consequences. In this respect, he was much like Sharansky. I think he started with an emotionally based gut feeling of what was right and then used his reason to justify the decision. And again like Sharansky, he used the negative “traps” to keep himself (and his constituents) committed to a strategy of resistance.
Earlier, I concluded that Sharansky’s refusal to negotiate with his Soviet captors, notwithstanding the pragmatic benefits of negotiation, was wise because he alone would suffer the consequences if he made the wrong choice. I also said that leaders have an obligation to act on the basis of a pragmatic assessment of the expected benefits and costs of the alternatives, not simply on moral intuitions or gut feelings alone. Sometimes the better part of wisdom is to negotiate, even when you don’t want to. Even with an enemy who is evil.
As I read the minutes of the War Cabinet discussions, I was powerfully struck by how hard it was for Churchill to translate his intuitive convictions into a persuasive argument. I also gained a respect for Halifax that I had not felt before. Halifax played an important role in the process by pushing Churchill to explain why his intuitions were sound enough to act on. He really put Churchill through his paces, almost as Spock might have done if he had been present. This underscores an important lesson: In deciding whether to enter into nego-tiations with a despised adversary, you can guard against a hasty rejection based simply on your gut instincts by discussing the matter with a colleague wh
o disagrees. Being pushed to give reasons for your inclinations may sometimes lead you to change your mind. And even when it doesn’t, it will force you to think through more rationally which course of action makes the most sense.
In the end, the War Cabinet’s discussion persuades me that Chur-chill’s refusal to enter into negotiations was wise. Churchill and Halifax had different perceptions of Hitler’s wartime aims and interests—in effect, different predictions amid great uncertainty. We will never know what Hitler might have demanded from Great Britain if negotiations had begun in the middle of 1940. Halifax may have been right, but Churchill’s prediction was equally plausible: that Hitler would make unacceptable demands because he was winning the war. That is just the problem: you can’t rely on hindsight to know whether you’re making a wise decision. A wise decision can turn out badly; it happens all the time. And a stupid decision can have a good outcome; you can be lucky. So the test of wisdom cannot be whether you’re proven right in the end. The test is, Did you think it through?
With Halifax’s help, I think Churchill passed that test. He was surely right in his implicit premise that it would be impossible to keep secret any sort of international conference about ending the war. If peace negotiations failed, they would fail publicly. He was also right that in May 1940, few in Great Britain knew how profound the risks were and how difficult it would be to resist Hitler alone. He was surely justified in being concerned, along with Sinclair and Greenwood, that if the negotiation route failed—and failed, moreover, in the middle of a war which the British were losing—British morale would have been seriously damaged. Britain had gone to war very reluctantly. Now she was the underdog and was taking a terrible beating. That was disheartening enough for the British people. Peace talks would raise hopes that further bloodshed could be avoided, and Churchill believed they were false hopes, which, once dashed, might leave the British too demoralized to fight to the finish. This was not an unreasonable prediction, particularly from a charismatic leader who understood when his rhetorical magic worked and when it did not.
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