Category: Americas

Analysis by Keith Rankin.

While World War Two (WW2) always was a set of intersecting conflicts – with Japan fighting a war of imperialism in East Asia and the Western Pacific – the war in Europe has been cast as the ultimate battle of ‘Good’ versus ‘Evil’. Hence the narrative of the Good War. Further, it has been personalised, with Adolf Hitler becoming the personalisation of Evil and Winston Churchill the personalisation of Good.

It always was nonsense. Wars are fought over territories and hegemony, between various peoples (nationalities), empires, religions, ideologies etc.; in the vast majority of cases between Bad and Bad, albeit various shades of bad (although the Hitler’s Nazis and Joseph Stalin’s Communists were close to having been equally Bad). The Bad versus Good narrative remains compelling to the human mind, however. Once you can find a compelling Evil – without or within, over there or over here – then our brains want to tell us that whoever opposes that ‘bad’ must be ‘good’. (In the old days, the ‘good’ said: ‘God was on our side’. Typically, their opponents thought something similar.)

Winston Churchill was neither a Good leader nor a competent leader. He didn’t start WW2, though there is an argument that the United Kingdom did. Nevertheless, Churchill, as a charismatic rhetorician and narcissist, had some sway over political discourse in Britain for half a century. (His important career began in 1904, when he became a party-hopping backbencher. He resigned from his second stint as Prime Minister in 1955; he was an MP for 61 years, and PM for 9 years.) That’s why there are so many more cited quotations from him than from any other British back-bench MP in the late 1930s.

Churchill, as a war-leader, was an ultra-imperialist who fought imperialist wars under the cover of World Wars One and Two. He was responsible for numerous atrocities, including appeasements of Stalin that were more problematic than Neville Chamberlain’s appeasement of Hitler in 1938. In his speeches in 1938 and 1939, Churchill may have been alluding to Eastern Europe, but he was thinking about Italy and its threat to British ‘assets’ in and around the Mediterranean Sea.

WW2: Germany versus Soviet Russia, with the United Kingdom as stoker and as kingmaker

World War Two was round two of the Germany versus Russia conflict; this time as ‘Nazi’ Germany against ‘Communist’ Russia, the Third Reich versus the Soviet Union. The centrality of the Germany versus Russia conflict – indeed a conflict between them for the territories of Ukraine and the oilfields to the southeast of Ukraine – becomes more apparent when WW1 and WW2 are seen as one. World War One clearly started as a conflict between Germany and Russia; albeit triggered as a conflict between proxies, Austria and Serbia. And World War Two ended with the defeat of Germany by Soviet Russia; and after the entry of Russia into the Pacific War (which henceforth became the Cold War between Soviet Russia and the United States of America).

Technically, WW2 became a world war (rather than a regional war) when the United Kingdom and France (and their empires) ‘declared war’ on Germany on 1 Sep 1939. The trigger issue was the possibility of Germany invading Poland. But what mischief was the United Kingdom upto with distant Poland? Why did a British ghost-war go horribly wrong? And why did open warfare between the two principal belligerents in Europe – Berlin and Moscow – not commence until June 1941?

My reading of British and French ‘diplomacy’ between March and August 1939 is that these notional allies, United Kingdom in particular, wanted there to be a major regional showdown between Berlin and Moscow; both powers would be substantially weakened as a result, thereby enhancing British and French control of the Mediterranean and the ‘Middle East’.

The British and the French ‘tried’ to do a deal with Stalin, in March 1939, with respect to protecting Poland from German aggression. (On 15 March 1939, Germany annexed the Czech part of Czechoslovakia.) They revealed their military weakness (especially Britain’s), or at least the paucity of the military contribution they were willing to make towards the security of Poland.

Britain and France subsequently went on to sign a treaty guarantee with Poland; a guarantee that both would declare war against Germany if Poland was attacked by Germany. Stalin already knew that the United Kingdom would not back-up such a declaration with any action to defend Poland.

The reason for the guarantee appears to have been to deter Poland from negotiating a peace deal with Germany. Further, Britain was maintaining diplomatic communication with Germany until August 1939. The inference would appear to be that Britain was trying to start a ‘nothing-war’ between itself and Germany, while stoking a ‘something war’ between Germany and Soviet Russia. Britain had no intention of doing anything in Poland, and was expecting that France would provide a substantial defensive barrier between Germany and Great Britain; this was all in the context that Britain and France would be helping their own security by nudging Germany into ‘pushing’ East (as was always Germany’s apparent plan) rather than ‘West’.

However, Britain and France were nonplussed by the non-aggression pact – the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact – signed between Moscow and Berlin in the last week of August 1939. Further, there was a secret sub-pact. Moscow and Berlin would carve up Poland, and which effectively – and subsequently – meant the Soviet annexation of Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia. Germany invaded Poland on 1 September 1939, activating that secret deal. Despite having nineteenth-century precedents for a pragmatic backing out from a signed-up deal, the United Kingdom and France – at least notionally – honoured their guarantee and declared war on Germany.

For France, this meant further shoring-up of its border with Germany, and – virtue signalling –making a small and brief incursion into Germany (the Saar Offensive). For Britain it meant further rearmament, but really to build up its navy to shore up its imperial interests, and building up its Air Force to defend itself from possible German attack. And it sent an army into France, as a show of support for France, more to be seen to be doing something than to actually be doing anything.

But the clear sense is that Britain still expected Germany to negotiate peace with Britain while consolidating its annexations of the Czech lands and Poland. The ‘phoney war’ proceeded, though it was far from phoney to the people of Poland and other Eastern European countries. The United Kingdom was launched into war proper in May 1940, with the lightning conquest of France by Germany, a conquest made possible by Germany’s temporary truce with the Soviet Union. (Though that was preceded, by a month, by Germany’s invasion of Norway; a matter for Britain’s navy rather than army.)

Adolf Hitler abandoned the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact in June 1941, embarking Nazi Germany on a full-scale invasion of the Soviet Union, his main plan all along. He had secured his western border in 1940; though his plans were somewhat scuppered by a need to attend to the military failings of Mussolini’s Italian forces in the Eastern Mediterranean, hence the war in Greece which involved New Zealand.

The Bloodlands and their toll of political murder: 1932-1945

The atrocities of the Nazis took place during a world war; those of Stalin were mostly during peace-time. Timothy Snyder, in his 2010 book Bloodlands, “conservatively” estimates that fourteen million civilians and prisoners-of-war were politically murdered in a set of contiguous territories – between Germany and Russia-proper – by either the Moscow-based Soviet Communist regime or the Berlin-based National Socialist regime. This includes ‘The Holocaust’, or at least most of it.

As real estate, Snyder defines the Bloodlands as the pre-WW2 territories of Ukraine and Belarus (within the Soviet Union), Poland, the Baltic States (Lithuania, Latvia, and Estonia), and the part of Russia close to Leningrad (now St Petersburg). The murders included in his tally were inflicted by deliberate starvation, guns, and gas. The cases of starvation were not due to famine in the conventional sense of that term. In the Ukrainian ‘famine’ of 1932/33, the food grown on Ukrainian farms – among the most productive lands in Europe – was confiscated and exported to Russian cities and to other countries in return for foreign currency. In the Siege of Leningrad – 1941 to 1944 – the German military prevented food from entering the city.

The worst-affected areas of the Bloodlands are today in western Ukraine and western Belarus. This land was in Eastern Poland before World War Two, and therefore in the Soviet-annexed territories of pre-war Poland. These lands were annexed or occupied by the Soviet Union in 1939, Germany in 1941, and the Soviet Union again in 1944. Each annexation saw its own round of political mass murder.

The murders of citizens of Poland and the Soviet Union took place on a vastly larger scale than any comparable atrocities committed on West Europeans; including the Holocaust, for which the vast majority of victims were Jews resident in Eastern Europe (not Germany; not the West). Snyder summarises the Bloodlands murder toll as:

• 3.3 million deliberately starved mostly in Ukraine in the 1932/33 Holodomor
• 0.7 million murdered in the Great Terror of 1937/38
• 0.2 million murdered in occupied Poland in 1939-1941 (disproportionately highly educated people; many killed by the notorious Einsatzgruppen, Nazi loyalists with PhD degrees)
• 4.2 million Soviet citizens starved by German occupiers in 1941-1944
• 5.4 million Jews (mostly Polish or Soviet citizens) shot or gassed by Germans in 1941-1944
• 0.7 million citizens (mostly Belarussians or Poles) shot by Germans in reprisals in 1941-1944

To what extent would have these (or equivalent numbers of) deaths have happened anyway, regardless of how the war actually started in Poland? Stalin’s victims, mostly already dead, represented about 40 percent of these fourteen million. The majority of Stalin’s victims were killed in the Ukrainian Holodomor which peaked in 1932 and 1933; or in the Great Terror of 1937 and 1938, which targeted the ‘kulak’ class of peasants and former peasants, ethnic Poles, and Russia’s political class (including many Bolshevik allies of the paranoid Stalin; communists who had come to be seen as potential threats to him).

Before September 1939, Hitler’s attempts at political murder were puny at best, when compared to Stalin’s ‘peace-time’ terror campaigns. Stalin murdered Soviet citizens. So, to a large extent did Hitler; Hitler killed comparatively few Germans, before or during the war.

Those who died in the Bloodlands after August 1939 might have experienced different fates had the war not been started then and there. Certainly, in 1940, a group of Hitler’s scientists – led by a leading agronomist – devised the ‘Hunger Plan’, which, if implemented in full, would have led to the murder of thirty of forty million Soviet citizens, to be replaced by German Aryan settlers. (While Hitler used ‘capitalist’ and ‘communist’ Jews as convenient scapegoats, Nazi racism should be understood as pro-Aryan rather than specifically anti-Jewish.) This was probably a racist and supremacist Nazi fantasy, unlikely to be able to be realised in full, and which was not prevented by the declaration of war by the United Kingdom against Germany in 1939.

It’s hard to see that the eventual victory of the Soviet Union over Germany in 1945 made the world a better, freer or more democratic place than it otherwise would have been; with fewer deaths and sufferings after 1939 than there actually were. Would a German victory over the Soviet Union have led to a less inhumane outcome for many millions of people, in the Bloodlands and elsewhere? We’ll never know, but it’s possible. It seems unlikely that the extremes of German National Socialism could have lasted for as long as the extremes of Soviet and Maoist Communism. And we know that most oppressive regimes do come to an end eventually; just as Hitler thought the Third Reich was forever (or for 1,000 years), so did Stalin and his successors believe of the Soviet Union.

World War Two morphed into the Cold War

Mostly, the Cold War – between the United States and the Soviet Union, and their proxies and alleged proxies – was ‘fought’ between the First World and the Second World; but its many victims were mostly in the ‘Third World’, now called the ‘Global South’. The way the Pacific War morphed into the Cold War is glaringly obvious, with the nuclear attack on Japan by the United States representing the end of the one war and the beginning of the next. (And note The bombing of Hamburg foreshadowed the horrors of Hiroshima.)

The Cold War began in Europe too, when the ‘victorious’ western ‘powers’, most particularly the United States, ‘suggested’ that the Russian ‘liberators’ of Eastern Europe were planning to overrun Western Europe as well (and turn the conquered into ‘communists’). The result was a tensely divided Europe until 1990, unnecessarily so; many European lives were blighted by politico-military suppression for 45 years. Further, that east-west divide has reappeared; just look at the results of the recent general election in Germany.

Finally, the costs ain’t over yet

Just as the World War came in two episodes, so too is the Cold War now in its second episode. (In the case of the World War, the second episode was explicitly ideological; communism versus fascism. In the Cold War, it was the first episode that was explicitly ideological; communism versus liberal capitalism.) Further, with signs that the United States might be withdrawing early, the second Cold War (CW2?) is looking like becoming, at its core, the Fourth Reich (aka the European Union) versus Russia (the new Russian Empire?), and with the territories of contention once again being Ukraine and the Black Sea.

The World War could have ended in 1918 or 1919 after the Great War (later known as World War One) – understood then to be the ‘War to End All Wars’ – if the ‘great powers’ had learned the appropriate lessons. Sadly, the ‘powers-that-were’ and the ‘powers-that-would-be’ learned, if anything, the wrong lessons. World War Two was not a Good War; it was grubbier and crueller than probably all its predecessors, and all sides – including the Anglo-side – contributed to that grubbiness and cruelty.

Imperialism was very much the problem, not the solution. The ‘rules-based-world-order’, devised in 1919 by the then-victorious powers – shonky new-nation national-borders and all – proved to be just another variation of great-power imperialism. We live in a world today of powers (some more ‘super’ than others), their proxies, and nations in the Global South saddled with borders which ensure forever conflicts.

We live in a world in which the Global West sees itself as morally and culturally superior, even though manifestly it isn’t. And we live in a world in which the Global East – in its various ethnic and cultural shades – rejects the supremacist assumptions and liberal presumptions of the West. And we live in a world in which those powers gamble with global war, just as the British gambled in 1939. And we live in a world in which the militaries contribute vastly to very real climate change, partly from military emissions of greenhouse gasses, partly because the immediate (eg 2020s) security concerns of the world outweigh concerns about the climate future (eg 2040s) concerns, and partly because we behave as if the goals to prevent or adapt to global warming are unwinnable.

There is a lot happening in the world at the moment, including tensions within Europe that would lead few people to be confident that – in 2050 – the present political architecture of Europe would still exist. Germany coveted Ukraine in the first half of the twentieth century. Indeed, Germany occupied Ukraine in 1918 and in the middle years of World War Two. Will the second quarter of the twenty-first century once again see German control of Ukraine? I wouldn’t bet against it. I see a stronger belligerence today in Germany towards having influence in Ukraine than I see in any other western country.

The biggest threat to peace is war; not Russia, not China, not Germany, not the United States of America, not Iran, not the hapless United Kingdom. Wars are a problem, not a solution.

The worst things happen during wars, or as a result of wars. There is one important exception. As we have seen, the Soviet Union – a Marxian ‘scientific utopia’ – destroyed many of its own people in the 1930s, in ‘peacetime’, and while the liberal world was looking the other way. Something similar, maybe worse, happened in China in the 1960s.

The lessons to learn are: avoid war, and the drum-beating that precedes it. And avoid technocratic utopian groupthink; avoid ideologies masquerading as science. The Nazi Hunger Plan was devised by an agronomist, Herbert Backe. War leads to such ideologies; and such ideologies lead to war.

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Keith Rankin (keith at rankin dot nz), trained as an economic historian, is a retired lecturer in Economics and Statistics. He lives in Auckland, New Zealand.