Six Great Legacies of the Nuremberg Trials that Still Impact the World Today

Posted on March 7, 2018 by CSambells

Did you know that before the Second World War, there were no international laws to protect civilians in war?

Yes, really. And let me explain.

Modern rules of war are only 150 years in the making. Some claim they started with Abraham Lincoln’s enactment of the Lieber Code in 1863, which tried to limit the military actions of his Union forces by permitting certain humanitarian measures to be taken (upon the condition that they do not contradict military objectives, of course). But I would argue that it began in 1864 on the other side of the ocean, when the red cross on a white background – the opposite of the Swiss flag – came to symbolize a neutral protective party helping another in conflict, known as the Red Cross.

Today, the international community has developed a fairly robust series of international laws that explicitly aim to limit the effects of armed conflict for humanitarian reasons. (Although reinforcing these laws is an entirely different matter…)

The critical problem before the Second World War was that individuals were subject to the laws of their nations, but could not claim rights under international law since they were not subjects of international law. (For an excellent lecture on this topic by Thomas Buergenthal, graduate of Harvard Law, a Holocaust survivor and former judge of the UN’s International Court of Justice, see here). Looking at it the other way around, as objects of international law, individuals’ status did not differ from a State’s territory or its other sovereign possessions; individuals thus belonged to the State. And let’s take a moment to consider those poor stateless individuals, such as refugees, or Jews stripped of their citizenship (as was legal in pre-war Germany), who lost their rights to any national laws…

Thus, before 1939, individuals were subjects to the laws of their nations, but not to international law. A rather subtle but critical difference, you might say.

In both the First and Second World Wars, this equated to entirely different treatment between civilians and other groups, such as prisoners of war. For example, sending or receiving post, which remains a cornerstone of human rights today, was not granted to interned, displaced or detained civilians; but instead these rights existed for POWs. Because the 1907 Hague Convention explicitly stipulated that POWs would “enjoy the privilege of free postage. Letters, money orders, and valuables, as well as parcels by post, intended for prisoners of war, or dispatched by them, shall be exempt from all postal duties,” this meant that you could send your husband knitted socks or a food parcel to a POW camp, or ask about your loved one’s whereabouts to relevant authorities.

The International Committee of the Red Cross’ massive system of indexes in Switzerland handled the two to three thousands letters of inquiry per day into the whereabouts of lost, fallen or captured soldiers. By the end of the First World War, the ICRC had compiled 4,895,000 index cards and forwarded 1,884,914 individual parcels and 1,813 wagonloads of collective relief supplies. Today, these files have been digitised and are searchable online.

The Third Geneva Convention in 1929 expanded the rights of POWs even further to include the establishment of official information bureaux by all belligerent nations and the coordinated relief of prisoners, whereby properly accredited professionals should both monitor camp operations and distribute relief. In practical terms, this meant that POW camps in WWII were regularly inspected by Red Cross officials, whereas concentration camps were not subject to humanitarian inspections.

But the Third Geneva Convention again neglected to define civilian rights.

In 1934, the world came very close to providing civilians international rights at the 15^th International Conference of the Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies held in Tokyo. The international community vigorously tried to clearly define the rights of civilians as those people within the territory of a belligerent, or as individuals in the power of the enemy in occupied territories. But the Tokyo Draft was not signed nor implemented with any legal authority in the years that followed, and by the outbreak of the Second World War, it was shelved, reconsidered, and finally made legitimate in the Fourth Geneva Convention of 1949.

Thus, by the outbreak of the Second World War, there were no international laws to protect civilians in war.

But then, the Nuremberg Trials.

In light of the mass atrocities and tremendous violations of human rights that occurred throughout wartime Europe, the Nuremberg Trials sought to administer justice to the Nazi politicians, administrators and bureaucrats that allowed such murderous policies to flourish.

The beautiful town of Nuremberg (Nürnberg) had been chosen by the Allies as it had once been the considered the spiritual centre of the Third Reich and played host to massive annual Nazi rallies. Ironically, it was also the city chosen by Hitler when enacting the 1935 Racial Laws (also known as the Nuremberg Laws) which stripped thousands of German citizens of their rights. In more practical terms, Nuremberg was chosen because it had functioning infrastructure, a serviceable airstrip and a working prison.

The International Military Tribunal (IMT) – the agreement between France, Britain, the US and Russia to persecute and punish war criminals in a court of law – decided upon four categories of crimes:

Conspiracy to commit charges 2, 3 and 4, listed here;
Crimes Against Peace “defined as participation in the planning and waging of a war of aggression in violation of numerous international treaties”
War Crimes “defined as violations of the internationally agreed upon rules for waging war”; and
Crimes Against Humanity “namely, murder, extermination, enslavement, deportation, and other inhumane acts committed against any civilian population, before or during the war; or persecution on political, racial, or religious grounds in execution of or in connection with any crime within the jurisdiction of the Tribunal, whether or not in violation of domestic law of the country where perpetrated.”

In 1946, Judges from the allied nations of France, Britain, America and Russia presided over the legal hearings of 22 of Germany’s highest ranking Nazis in the first and most publicized trial. Each defendant was tried for one or even all four categories based upon the available evidence often gathered from captured German records. Fortunately for justice, the Nazis were pedantic record-keepers.

Wannsee, Berlin. One outstanding discovery of evidence for the trials was by German lawyer Robert Kempner, who had scoured the German Foreign Office and uncovered (in the papers of the Undersecretary of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Martin Luther) the record of one 90-minute meeting at the Wannsee house in south Berlin in 1942 (above). This lakeside villa became infamously known for hosting this “Wannsee Conference” when high-ranking Nazi officials formally decided on the genocidal policies of the “Final Solution” to the Jewish question – otherwise known as the Holocaust.

Twelve subsequent Nuremberg Trials persecuted other Nazi groups. These included the “Doctors’ Trial” against Nazi medical researchers who conducted experiments on concentration camp victims, the “IG Farben Trial” and “Krupp Trial” against businessmen and industrialists who profited from slave labour, and the “Judges’ Trial” against Nazi judges who enforced racial laws and eugenics.

But given that Germany’s national legal system created laws to support their discriminatory policies (ie. The Nuremberg Race Laws of 1935), and given that civilians had no international rights but were only subject to national laws, then how could the international community enforce international law?

The IMT, the judges, ultimately rejected Germany’s argument that they had been following official policy and thus was actually legally permissible by national law. Instead, they returned to a small but powerful introduction from The Hague Conventions (referred to as the Martens Clause), which states:

Until a more complete code of the laws of war has been issued, the High Contracting Parties deem it expedient to declare that, in cases not included in the Regulations adopted by them, the inhabitants and the belligerents remain under the protection and rule of the principles of the law of nations, as they result from the usages established among civilized peoples, from the laws of humanity, and the dictates of the public conscience (Hague Convention, 1899).

This rather vague and imprecise sentence was sufficient grounds for these judges (admittedly, the victors of the war) to argue that Germany had contradicted the basic human rights afforded to all civilians by the laws of humanity.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is when it all changed.

While the Nuremberg Trials sought to punish these criminals for their cruel treatment of civilians, it actually achieved so much more – it was a dramatic legal and conceptual transformation that internationalized human rights. Importantly, it eliminated that subtle but critical difference discussed earlier; individuals were no longer subject to the laws of their nations, but subject to a higher authority of international law that guarantees their human rights.

What legacies did the Nuremberg Trials create?

1) Defined an international concept of universal human rights.

See above discussion.

2) Granted civilians in war basic human rights.

Today, civilians who experience war are guaranteed basic human rights that all belligerents must abide, or else be accused of war crimes. These are further defined by additional humanitarian laws that provide different protections depending on the whether the civilian is a child, disabled or a migrant.

For simplicity’s sake, these are some of the basic rights granted to civilians in war, which seem revolutionary compared to the pre-WWII period:

civilians have a right to receive relief and aid from any party, government or non-state actor
when detained or imprisoned, civilians must be given food, water, and allowed to communicate with loved ones in order to preserve one’s dignity and physical health;
sick or wounded have a right to receive medical assistance, regardless of whether they are a belligerent
medical workers must always be allowed to provide life-saving assistance to wounded or injured and must never be attacked
belligerents are prohibited from causing the following upon civilians: violence to the life, health or physical or mental well-being of persons (including murder, torture, corporal punishment and mutilation), outrages upon personal dignity, in particular humiliating and degrading treatment, enforced prostitution and any form of indecent assault; taking hostages, collective punishments and threats to commit any of the above.

If you’re a POW, you’re also afforded significant rights. If you’re a belligerent yourself, you have certain obligations to provide for civilians under occupation, and you have rights to legal process and representation.

While the Nuremberg Trials may have closed the pre-WWII loophole regarding civilians’ rights in war, war crimes against civilians still occur today. Shocking examples include the increasing male victims of rape at Libyan detention centers, or last week’s sexual exploitation of Syrian women in return for relief, or the recent abduction of 110 Nigerian school girls by Boko Haram…

On 5 March 2018, Human Rights Watch revealed that seven boys under the age of 14 living in a Russian orphanage for children with disabilities claim they were raped by staff and visitors. Although this will be handled by domestic courts, HRW uses press releases like this to bring attention to the systematic failures by national systems, like Russia’s institutions for disabled children, which is currently being monitored for widespread human rights abuses.

3) Genocide became a crime.

It might sound ridiculous to think that genocide had never been outlawed until WWII, but when one pauses and considers the multiple genocides that occurred before the Holocaust, explicit laws were evidently required to deter governments or political groups from undertaking acts “with the intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group” (1948 Geneva Convention). And, if one pauses to consider this meaning of genocide, then it can be evidenced in other major historical contexts or themes, including colonialism, imperialism, slavery, nationalism, etc.

After the collapse of communism in the 1990s, when suppressed nationalism of multiple ethnic groups was unleashed in places like Yugoslavia and Bosnia, the UN investigated evidence of war crimes for the first time since Nuremberg. Notably, rape was recognized as a crime against humanity for the first time in the aftermath of the Bosnian Civil War.

Although genocide has been criminalized, this has not deterred governments and political groups from committing mass atrocities. To date, genocides have occurred in Uganda, Cambodia, Rwanda, Somalia, Bosnia, and many other nations. Also, the legal process to administer justice can extend into the decades. For example, on 24 March 2016, Radovan Karadzic, the former Bosnian Serb leader nicknamed “the Butcher of Bosnia,” now aged 70, was found guilty of genocide, war crimes and crimes against humanity by a United Nations tribunal for his actions in 1995 in Srebrenica. He was sentenced to 40 years’ imprisonment – more than many Nazi war criminals from Nuremberg.

4) Introduced explicit laws for research upon human subjects.

Subsequent Nuremberg Trials also charged the scientists and doctors with crimes against humanity for their extensive medical experiments upon concentration camp inmates. Nazi doctors’ defense was that they were ordered by their government to investigate how to overcome common ailments of German pilots and soldiers (such as hypothermia). However, the persecution team argued, forcing concentration camp victims to die in frigid and icy baths for “medical research” failed to honour doctors’ Hippocratic Oath and underlying ethics to do no harm to patients.

Ultimately, the trial exposed that there was no single blueprint for medical research and, ironically, it forced the American persecution team to find the best and most ethical doctor to testify to research physiology and whose wartime scientific interests corresponded to Nazi research interests. Dr. Andrew Ivy was called as witness for the prosecution and his testimony lasted four days, the longest of the trial.

Dr. Ivy claimed he personally followed three common-sense rules when experimenting on human subjects, such as avoiding all unnecessary physical and mental suffering and injury to patients, or conducting trials on the basis of animal experimentation first. While such guidelines were evidence that medical experiments could be undertaken ethically, this trial revealed that there were no written principles of research in the United States or elsewhere before December 1946. In fact, the legal defense at the time argued that there was no difference between the actions of Nazi doctors and those actions of U.S. doctors at Stateville Prison in Joliet, Illinois, by experimenting with a malaria vaccine on prisoners.

Again, as victors of the war, the Nuremberg judges had the final say. They created a 10-point research ethics code, known today as the “Nuremberg Code.” Although it was not formally adopted by any nation, the irrefutable importance of informed consent was adopted into the UN’s international laws in 1966. Informed consent was, and remains, the core pillar of any research upon human subjects to this day.

5) Created a permanent international court for war crimes.

The International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia, or ICTY, was the first war crimes trial held after Nuremberg. In many ways, ICTY was similar because it held four categories of crime, it had a panel of judges, it pursued justice according to international laws and conventions. But, of course, it was modified from its predecessor; according to Bernard D. Meltzer, the ICTY sat at The Hague to signify its neutrality and internationality, it had a smaller team to collect evidence and thus relied heavily on oral history testimonies, it also utilised new methods in forensic evidence, etc.

After the International Criminal Tribunals for former Yugoslavia and then Rwanda, the international community created the International Criminal Court (ICC), in force since the Rome Statute in 2002. According to the Robert H. Jackson Centre, the ICC “is the first ever permanent, treaty-based, international criminal court established to promote the rule of law and ensure that the gravest international crimes do not go unpunished.”

The ICC is currently investigating war crimes in Uganda, Darfur (Sudan), Democratic Republic of Congo, Kenya, Libya, Mali, Georgia, Central African Republic, Côte d’Ivoire, and Burundi.

6) Created an irrefutable historical record of war crimes.

At a time when German society, and the international community, wanted to move on from war and embrace happier peacetime activities, the Nuremberg Trials became an invaluable historical record for future generations. No one today can claim ignorance to the atrocities or scale of the Holocaust. And a great part of that is due to the extensive research, legal proceedings and publicity of the Nuremberg Trials.

Today’s discussions about Nuremberg – and essentially about international justice – now include the great disparity between Nazi Germany’s culpability and the Allies’ culpability of war crimes. For example, no Nazi at Nuremberg was charged with terror bombardment since the use of strategic bombardment against civilians had been a pillar of the British and US war efforts (the controversy surrounding Dresden still rages today). Or, the failure of Nuremberg to legitimise the brutal mass rape of German women by Soviet AND American forces in immediate post-war Germany. And, of course, many others that may not be fully explored until the victor’s narrative of the Second World War, and generation who experienced and created it, passes away.

Switzerland’s No-So-Secret Wartime Weapon: The Case of the Swiss-led Child Evacuations

Posted on February 6, 2018 by CSambells

Last month, the BBC published an article “Is this Switzerland’s Schindler?” about a Swiss man named Carl Lutz who used his position as an envoy for neutral Switzerland stationed in Budapest to issue letters to thousands of Hungarian Jews during the Second World War. These special letters extended Lutz’s diplomatic protection to those targeted for deportation. Lutz saved an astounding 62,000 Jews from being sent to the concentration camps.

Crowds expecting to be deported gather outside Carl Lutz’ office in Budapest to get protective letters in late 1944 (photo credit). Notably, Carl Lutz not only issued letters to individuals and families, but also 76 buildings that housed these groups. The Glass House survives today as a result of Lutz’s intervention.

It’s a very remarkable story. Not only does it demonstrate the extent to which people in positions of power could sacrifice their own safety for the survival of total strangers, but it also exemplifies how Swiss citizens could mobilise their government’s neutral status in WWII to help victims of persecution.

Shortly after this article was published, a friend contacted me and, knowing that I studied Switzerland during the Second World War, asked me about Switzerland’s wartime humanitarian efforts: But Chelsea, didn’t the Swiss create the Red Cross? And weren’t they neutral during the war? If so, did they help protect Jews during the war through the Red Cross? And what about refugees fleeing the Nazis? Honestly, why didn’t every single person just pack their bags and move to Switzerland during the war?

These are all excellent questions. Switzerland’s neutrality certainly means that it had a unique position in wartime Europe. Combined with its history of humanitarianism (yes, it did create the International Committee of the Red Cross), and its convenient geography in central Europe (bordering Austria, Germany, France, Italy and Liechtenstein), Switzerland appears to be perfect hiding spot from the Nazis, and a country that could manoeuvre through tense wartime diplomacy to help victims of war. Well spotted, my friend.

Added to all these facts was (and remains) Switzerland’s strong legacy of banking (supported by valuable privacy laws). Foreign investors still flock to Swiss banks because of its centuries of neutrality (and thus financial stability during war), including foreign governments. In fact, some scholars argue Switzerland’s ability to financially shelter governments’ investments was the single reason that it was not invaded during the war – Swiss banks were just too valuable to both the Allied governments and Nazi Germany’s financial health to even consider crossing one platoon into its little alpine territory.

So really, we have three non-negotiable factors that influenced (and continue to influence) Switzerland’s political actions: neutrality, humanitarianism and banking. Remarkably, Switzerland protected its geographic borders from invasion in both World Wars due to its ability to maintain amicable relationships with belligerent nations. It provided them with a neutral trading centre (ie. banks and foreign currency), as well as becoming an intermediary for international organizations, such as the League of Nations. This tradition still stands today.

Today, if you’re lucky enough to be able to afford a trip to Geneva, you can walk past the United Nations (above), the headquarters of the World Health Organisation, the International Committee of the Red Cross, the International Labour Office and the World Trade Organisation – all a stone’s throw from the same street! (And you’ll have to walk because you won’t be able to afford anything else).

Although Switzerland’s neutrality, humanitarianism and banking can be seen as massive opportunities and methods to help others, they were often used as excuses by Swiss authorities to limit, evade, or reject multiple initiatives that would have saved countless lives during the Second World War.

However, in keeping with the optimism and sacrifice that Carl Lutz has shown the world, I will write about one extraordinary example where Swiss citizens overcame these limitations to provide refuge and relief to one of the most vulnerable groups suffering under Nazi rule – children.

Why would the Swiss government reject humanitarian initiatives?

Ultimately, Switzerland feared being overrun by refugees. As Switzerland depended on warring countries for its imports (about 55%) and exports (about 60%), there was simply not enough resources to ensure its national survival if thousands of foreigners (even refugees) came to stay. Over half of the coal in Switzerland, for example, originated from Nazi Germany’s monthly shipments. Thus, Switzerland had to balance national survival with shrewd financial decisions. (For more on Swiss wartime economy, see Herbert Reginbogin’s [2009] Faces of Neutrality, and Georges-André Chevallaz’s [2001] The Challenge of Neutrality, Diplomacy and the Defense of Switzerland).

Similar to today, Europe was overwhelmed with refugees still displaced by the First World War, the Turkish-Armenian War, the Russian Civil War, and the impact of famines gripping eastern Europe. Similar to today, refugees were not simply a passing trend.

Multiple charities helped refugees in the wake of the First World War. By 1921, when the Russian Civil War had produced countless refugees and starving children, the Save the Children Fund had found it’s stride. It campaigned on the big screen by showing films of the conditions children faced to British audiences. For a brief history, see here.

By the end of 1933, the first year of power for the Nazis, some 37,000 Jews had voluntarily emigrated from Germany as a direct result of increasing violence and persecution (RJ Evans, Third Reich in Power). With Germany’s introduction of the Nuremberg Laws in 1935 – stripping all Jews in Germany or Austria of their citizenship and thus making them stateless refugees in their own country – the world began to realise it had a growing refugee crisis on its hands, especially if Hitler’s militarisation of Germany continued to go unchallenged. Despite this, countries like France and Britain were apathetic to the plight of these refugees, instead being more concerned with unemployment or other domestic issues (Claudena Skran, Refugees in Inter-war Europe). Sounds like the recent situation in Calais, no?

But refugees had protected rights. In 1933, refugees gained internationally recognised rights (to passports, for example) for the first time, granted by the League of Nations (which, notably, Germany withdrew from in 1933). But this did not equate to decent treatment or immediate asylum for refugees worldwide. In fact, it still doesn’t. (See how refugees today are treated in Libyan detention centres).

In 1938, President Roosevelt’s administration organized the Evian Conference in France to help coordinate efforts to facilitate the emigration of refugees from Germany and Austria. But the conference was unsuccessful, because most participating nations seemed more concerned with turning the refugees away from their own borders or, in the case of Britain, by simply refusing to contribute to it (Skran, Refugees in Inter-war Europe, 280).

Evian-les-Bains/ Lake Geneva: International conference on jewish immigrants from Germany

Lord Winterton, the English representative at the Evian Conference, gives a speech to attendees (photo credit). TIME reported on 18 July 1938, “Britain, France, Belgium pleaded that they had already absorbed their capacity, Australia turned in a flat ‘No’ to Jews, and the U. S. announced that she would combine her former annual Austrian immigration quota with her German to admit 27,370 persons (who can support themselves) from Greater Germany next year.”

Switzerland’s delegate, Heinrich Rothmund (the Chief of Police and responsible for Swiss borders and immigration), argued that larger countries, such as the US, should absorb large numbers of refugees so that European nations could operate as merely transit countries. Seems logical, eh? However, this line of policy was not accepted. By the time the Second World War broke out, very few legal stipulations existed which governed the admission and rejection of refugees, and, instead, refugees had to rely upon the decisions made by individual countries. The League of Nations, and the international community, had ultimately failed to protect refugees in time for war.

By late 1938, Rothmund’s idea to treat Switzerland as a transit country had failed. Escalating Nazi persecution (and the annexation of Austria) caused more fleeing Jews to congregate at Swiss borders. At this point, Rothmund decided that all refugees without visas, especially Jews, would be rejected from Swiss borders. Switzerland then implemented a new, discriminatory method of stamping all Jewish passports and visas with a large J (J for “Jude” meaning “Jew”). This “J-stamp” method to clearly distinguish Jews from other refugees was recommended to Nazi officials by a Swiss legation in 1938. Unfortunately, the Nazis adopted this into their own immigration and deportation protocols. (For a collector’s example, see here).

Amidst public outcry, Switzerland closed its borders in August 1942, justified by Swiss authorities due to an alleged lack of resources. The border closures remain one of the darkest chapters of Swiss history as Swiss actions directly impacted refugees, forcing many refugees to face persecution and death (This was a major finding of a large 25-volume Swiss government-commissioned study in the 1990s, see here). And, in November 1942, when Germany invaded southern unoccupied France, fresh waves of refugees fled to Switzerland’s strictly controlled borders; most were turned away, resulting, for some, in eventual deportation to mass extermination camps. By late 1942, Swiss refugee policies slowly changed, but it was not until July 1944 that the border opened again fully to Jewish refugees.

Switzerland’s Wartime Dilemma: How to Help Refugees when Limited by (an anti-Semitic and anti-refugee) government?

Similar to so many countries today, private citizens vehemently disagreed with their government’s restrictive border controls to limit the intake of refugees. This friction provoked Swiss civilians to turn to non-governmental organizations to help victims of war they deemed worthy of their donations, relief and aid.

One key example is the “Swiss Coalition for Relief to Child War Victims” (Schweizerische Arbeitsgemeinschaft für kriegsgeschädigte Kinder, or Le cartel Suisse de secours aux enfants victimes de la guerre). A mouthful, I know, but let’s call this group the “Swiss Coalition.”

The Swiss Coalition was an alliance of seventeen Swiss charities that sought to evacuate children from war-torn Europe to Switzerland. Although it had operated successfully during the Spanish Civil War (evacuating over 34,000 child refugees of the Spanish Civil War to multiple host nations), this “new” Swiss Coalition was bigger, prepared and practiced. Importantly, remaining funds from its Spanish operations were liquidated and added to the new coalition’s purse.

In 1940, the Swiss Coalition began its remarkable work. Raising over 700,000 Swiss francs in one year alone, the Swiss Coalition appealed to the humanitarian spirit of the Swiss people. One initiative encouraged thousands of Swiss families to voluntarily host children from southern France (then unoccupied by Nazi forces) for three months in their own homes. This ingenious method bypassed Switzerland’s strict immigration controls, as the children would not be a perpetual national burden, as well as appearing more attractive to Swiss hosts, as the children would not be a permanent family commitment.

When children arrived, they gave their information to Red Cross workers who then compared it to the transport manifest and reported it to immigration authorities. After medical screening and delousing at Swiss train stations, they received their first warm meal in Switzerland. (Photographer Hans Staub. Basel train station, circa 1942. CH-BAR J2.15 1969/7 BD116, Belgische Kinder kommen (nach Basel), circa 1942).

The measure was extremely popular among the public, and by November 1940, when the first evacuations from unoccupied France began, the number of families volunteering to host children actually outnumbered the children selected for evacuation. Thousands of families offered spots for French children; over 2,000 were offered in Geneva alone. By December 1941, the Swiss Coalition hosted more than 7,000 children in Switzerland, the majority of them French (Swiss Federal Archives, CH-BAR E2001D 1968/74 BD 16 D.009 14 and Antonie Schmidlin, Eine andere Schweiz, 137).

Notice the fatigue from this little Belgian boy. The captain reads “Arrival of Belgian child convoys in a Swiss train station. The children have travelled all night, have slept little and are now hungry and tired.” (Photographer Kling-Jenny. CH-BAR J2.15 1969/7 BD116, Belgische Kinder kommen (nach Basel), circa 1942).

The success continued and operations enlarged. Surprisingly, Nazi authorities agreed to temporary evacuations from their occupied zone, as it was hardly an inconvenience for them; the Swiss operated and funded the evacuations and – crucially – Switzerland was neutral. In February 1941, child evacuations from German-occupied northern France began, and the Swiss Coalition was the first foreign agency allowed into blocked areas, such as Dunkirk, Calais and Boulogne.

Medical assessment was the chief criterion for selection. Due to the typhoid epidemics in late 1940 and summer 1943 in northern France and rampant diphtheria during the winter of 1942-43, it was necessary to protect the children, and the Swiss hosts, from such diseases. (CH-BAR J2.15 1969/7 BD 114, Kindertransporte aus Frankreich, March 1942).

In 1942, Belgian children suffering under Nazi rule were now evacuated. Generous donations from Swiss citizens continued to pour in and the Swiss Red Cross joined the operations. This was an important moment because it meant that the national Red Cross infrastructure (and doctors) could be utilised. This was certainly a formidable humanitarian operation.

Strict immigration controls still existed though. By mid 1942, Kinderzüge, or special Children’s Trains, were only allowed to travel one day per week. It had to be the same day every week. Maximum 830 per train. Only 1 adult per 30 children. According to Heinrich Rothmund’s office, there was to be absolutely no deviation from the following criteria:

Only children with appropriate identity papers (passports) that allowed them to return to France or Belgium could be selected. This was difficult for stateless groups, such as Jewish families who had left fled Germany or Austria for France. Importantly, this meant that no German-Jews could be evacuated. This also ensured that no child became a responsibility of the Swiss government.
Poor health was the sole criterion for selecting children (secondary to having the correct identity papers, of course).
Children had to be selected by Swiss Coalition doctors and medically screened upon arrival in Switzerland.
Children had to be 4 years to 14 years old.
Swiss Federal Police have the full authority to reject children upon entry on any grounds for any reason.

Once the children arrived in Switzerland, there was a host of additional criteria they had to follow while residents in Switzerland. While you could argue that these pedantic rules prevented children from becoming lost or abused by their hosts, it also meant that no one could abuse this temporary system of asylum. No Swiss host could extend a child’s stay, for example.

Rothmund specified that Medical Corps of the Swiss Frontier Guards (above) had to deem the children physically poor in order for admission into Switzerland. If entry was refused, then children were not to cross the Swiss border and were immediately returned to their home country. I’ve found no direct evidence to reveal that children were rejected. (CH-BAR J2.15 1969/7 BD116, Belgische Kinder kommen (nach Basel), circa 1942).

Despite the impressive enterprise, the Germans terminated the evacuations from Belgium in May 1942 and from France in October 1942. Their justification was based upon the belief that children in Switzerland would become politically incited with anti-German sentiments. (Yep, really).

The Nazis’ termination of these three-month evacuations coincided with Swiss border closures in late 1942. (But it is important to point out that some children gained entry into Switzerland, including those admitted due to tuberculosis and others sent through another initiative led by Pro Juventute). It was not until July 1944 when the Swiss Coalition resumed the three-month evacuations.

In total, over 60,000 French and Belgian children benefitted from these temporary child evacuations (including some from Yugoslavia) during the Second World War. In the post-war period, this was expanded to other war-stricken nations and an additional 100,000 children were welcomed to Switzerland from 1945 to 1949.

So what?

While I discuss Switzerland at length here, the obligations among so-called “neutral” nations to help refugees is not just about Switzerland. If we put any nation under a microscope, we will discover many unwelcome truths about its immigration policies. Assigning responsibility (and culpability) for who did or did not protect refugees, including Jews, is a tricky exercise, especially when discussed on such a large, international scale.

Perhaps Swiss historians say it best. When ascribing responsibility for Switzerland’s lack of action to protect vulnerable groups, notable Swiss historian Edgar Bonjour argued that the entire generation of Swiss made it possible for the democratic government to create such refugee policies. Historian Stephen Mächler (Hilfe und Ohnmacht, 440) pushes this further to criticize “the entire globe,” as everyone opposed welcoming refugees, especially Jews, making it nearly impossible for Switzerland to do anything but to create similar refugee policies. However, as Georg Kreis argues (Switzerland and the Second World War, 113), if all are responsible, then ultimately no one is responsible

Let’s return to our “Swiss Schindler”. As a diplomat working from a Swiss consulate in Budapest, Carl Lutz was protected by international law and granted immunity to local conflict, as any diplomat should be treated. But, importantly, only neutral governments during the Second World War could act as protective powers. As Lutz was the citizen of a neutral government, this meant that his Swiss embassy in Budapest acted as an intermediary and/or protective power for other warring nations without diplomatic representation in Hungary. (This system still operates today; a Canadian pastor was recently released in North Korea via the Swedish embassy because Canada designated Sweden to be its protective power). Therefore, Carl Lutz’s citizenship to neutral Switzerland played an incredibly critical role in the lives of 62,000 Jews.

Remarkable initiatives like the Swiss Coalition, and the actions of Swiss citizens like Carl Lutz, Paul Grüninger, Hans Schaffert, Roslï Näf, and so many others, deserve great attention. They not only sacrificed their own personal comfort, safety and even careers, but they discovered cunning ways to capitalise on their Swiss neutrality for the protection of thousands of people. In this sense, their humanitarianism (and courage) seems amplified. Neutrality was not a limitation or excuse to not intervene, but actually an influential weapon that could be used, if in the right hands.

The Battle of Vimy Ridge: History, Myth, Memorial and Remembrance

Posted on November 3, 2017 by CSambells

The Battle of Vimy Ridge was one of the costliest and most successful military engagements in Canadian history. Due to the extraordinary bravery of thousands of Canadians, the Battle of Vimy Ridge was hard-won against great odds. Today Vimy Ridge is commemorated in Canada as the defining moment when we shed the cloak of the British Empire and defined our own identity on the world stage as a victorious nation.

But.

History really is not the same as remembrance, as I discovered last June when I visited the battlefield. The Vimy Ridge memorial, built in 1936 on land donated by France to “all Canadian people,” has become enshrined in a national narrative honouring Canada’s “coming of age” and “birth” as a nation. With every new busload of Canadian tourists, British schoolchildren, curious Germans, this memorial perpetuates this narrative, while reminding us both the astounding scale of the First World War, and Canada’s role in that international conflict.

Once the feelings of overwhelming awe towards the immense bravery of all soldiers fighting in the First World War passes, and once you dig deeper into Canada’s exact reasons in 1917 for attacking this dreadful graveyard in France, and once you actually question what the hell so many young men were doing in such a devastating conflict, you begin to realise that the way we remember battles has become more important than the reality of what actually happened.

The “Facts” that Fuel Canada’s National Narrative

Vimy Ridge was a heavily fortified seven-kilometre ridge in northern France that held a commanding view over the Allied lines. Previous attempts by the French to secure the ridge resulted in over 100,000 causalities, who lay in the open graveyard between the lines.

Vimy Ridge Easter Monday, the 9th of April, 1917

Vimy Ridge on April 9, 1917. Canadian troops seen here advancing over no man’s land and through the German barbed wire whilst under fire. (Photo: Huffington Post).

The Canadian Corps spent weeks practising the attack. After the disaster at the Somme, British tactics were forced to change. Instead of relying on officers for leadership and strategy (many of whom had been slaughtered at the Somme), regular soldiers were now equipped with enough tactical details to adequately survive if their leader was killed in action. For the first time, regular infantrymen were briefed on the terrain and maps, and encouraged to think for themselves. They were also armed with machine guns, rifle-men and grenade throwers, giving them more versatile tools to overcome obstacles.

Prior to the Canadian attack on April 9th, 1917, the Canadian Corps had around 1,000 men working on 12 underground passageways. Each of the tunnels housed soldiers, ammunition, water, and communication lines, and most were lit by electricity. See Valour Canada website for more details.

Elaborate tunnels in the rear lines (the longest being 1.2km in length) allowed for quick communication between rear and front line trenches. This also allowed for critical supplies to reach all the troops in the weeks leading to the attack.

But the chief reason for success was the devastating artillery barrage that isolated German trenches and forced German machine gunners to stay in their deep dug outs. A week before the attack, more than a million shells were fired at the German lines, and even targeted at the villages in the rear. The Germans called this “the week of suffering.”

The new artillery fuse (called 106) meant that shells detonated upon impact, rather than burying themselves in the ground, which meant that hard defences could be more easily destroyed. One Canadian observer recorded that the shells poured “over our heads like water from a hose, thousands and thousands a day.”

British General Sir Julian Byng and the commander of the Canadian Expeditionary Force, warned before the attack on Vimy Ridge, “Chaps, you shall go over exactly like a railroad train, on time, or you shall be annihilated.”

On the morning of Monday, 9 April 1917 at 5.30am, four Canadian divisions, attacking together for the first time, overran the German line. Over 15,000 Canadians accompanied by one British division captured the highest part of the ridge (Hill 145) and within three days, the Canadians and British had won the ridge.

But Vimy Ridge was only victorious at a great cost. Nearly 4,000 Canadians were killed and 7,000 were injured.

The Facts Excluded from the Canadian Narrative

The Canadian War Museum website, the Vimy Foundation website, and the Veterans Affairs website of the Canadian government fail to mention German casualties or prisoners, or even recognise Britain’s involvement as anything but ancillary.

Exact figures for German casualties are unknown due to the destruction of records in the Second World War. But we know that 4,000 Germans were taken prisoner, while the Canadian Encyclopaedia estimates that 20,000 Germans were killed or wounded at Vimy Ridge.

One of the reasons for German defeat was the German Commanders’ failure to adequately use a newly introduced defensive tactic called “defence in depth.” Rather than stubbornly defending every foot of captured ground, German armies would allow attacking troops to probe into their territory just far enough to be beyond their supply lines — and then destroy them in a counterattack. The strategy was very effective, but the German defenders of Vimy were given the traditional order to “hold the line” at all costs. The German commander, Ludwig von Falkenhausen, was promptly reassigned after the defeat.

Captured German prisoners after the Battle of Vimy Ridge, 1917. Photo credit: the National Post and Library and Archives Canada.

In the aftermath of Vimy Ridge, German soldiers were photographed smiling after being taken prisoner. This, despite the fact that Canadians had earned a grim reputation for killing those who surrendered. (For an excellent article on this, see Tim Cook’s The Politics of Surrender). But smiling for the camera was no coincidence. A year previously, Germany had suffered through the “turnip winter”, when adults were living on just 1,200 calories a day. So, becoming a POW often meant receiving better rations. Also, the Germans had just undergone weeks of night attacks and raids on their trenches. They were obviously exhausted and relieved to be no longer fighting.

Despite Canadian proclamations of victory, Germans viewed Vimy Ridge as a draw rather than an outright defeat. Historians, such as Andrew Godefroy, admit that due to a lack of sources, it is difficult to fully reconstruct events on the German side. But he revealed that although General von Falkenhausen was assigned most of the blame for losing the ridge, other commanders including General Georg Karl Wichura and Oberstluetnant Wilhelme von Goerne, received medals for their leadership. Also, because the Canadians took the ridge but failed to break the German line, the Germany army recognized, to some degree, that Vimy Ridge had not entirely been a defeat.

Most importantly, the Battle of Vimy Ridge was strategically insignificant to the outcome of the war. Other battles, such as Amiens and Cambrai had far greater impact. As historian Andrew Godefroy writes in Vimy Ridge, a Canadian Reassessment: “To the German army the loss of a few kilometres of vital ground meant little in the grand scheme of things.” After Vimy Ridge, the repute of Canadian troops was certainly increased, especially as elite shock troops in 1918, but Vimy Ridge itself was not strategically important.

Commemorating Vimy Ridge: Let’s Build a Memorial!

After the First World War, nations devastated by conflict erected thousands of monuments (both large and small) to acknowledge those who died. France and Belgium donated sections of land to its allies for the purposes of commemoration. And Vimy Ridge was one of eight battle sites (five in France and three in Belgium) awarded to Canada.

In 1920, the newly established Canadian Battlefields Memorial Commission organized a competition for a Canadian memorial to be erected on each site. Walter Allward, an experienced sculptor and a well-known designer of memorials, won the competition in 1921. Due to Vimy Ridge’s vantage point, accessibility and significance, the Canadian Battlefields Memorial Commission decided that Allward’s memorial would be built at Vimy Ridge (although it did take 2.5 years to clear the 100 hectare land of unexploded bombs, some of which still remain there today).

After ten years of construction (it took two years to find a suitable quarry for the limestone, which, ironically, was located in Sarajevo, Yugoslavia where the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand and his wife had started the First World War), the memorial was completed in July 1936. 6,000 Canadians were given “Special Vimy” passports by the Canadian government to make the “pilgrimage” to the unveiling.

Over 100,000 spectators attended the unveiling. His Majesty King Edward VIII and various Canadian representatives met with mothers whose sons had died. One veteran remembers: “The service lasted only an hour but never had anyone experienced one more solemn or moving” (Saburo Shinobu, Japanese Branch of the Canadian Legion).

Adorned with twenty sculptures, Allward’s memorial is topped by figures representing the universal virtues of faith, justice, peace, honour, charity, truth, knowledge and hope. The Christian symbolism is obvious and clearly references “traditional images of the Mater Dolorosa (the Virgin Mary in mourning), while the figure spread-eagled on the altar below the two pylons resembles a Crucifixion scene.”

“Between the pylons stands a figure holding a burning torch. Entitled ‘The Spirit of Sacrifice’, it is a reference to one of the most famous poems of the Great War, ‘In Flanders Fields,’ by the Canadian Army Medical Corps officer, Lieutenant-Colonel John McCrae.” (Canada War Museum)

Although not a part of the original design, over 11,000 names of all the Canadians who had died with no known grave are etched into the base of the monument. (Photo from Amerique Francaise)

A maternal figure at the base of the memorial. Note the engraved names around the base.

In 1940, as German armies swept through western Europe, destroying many of the First World War monuments in its wake, Vimy Ridge was exempted. In fact, Hitler visited the monument and was so impressed that he apparently assigned Waffen SS guards to protect it. This prevented regular soldiers of the German army from defacing the monument. As most of the Australian WWI graves and memorials had been destroyed by advancing German troops, this likely saved Vimy Ridge from a similar fate.

Although saving the memorial was also a propaganda stunt to demonstrate Hitler’s goodwill to the conquered French people, perhaps we should all be a little more in awe of a structure that even Hitler himself wouldn’t destroy.

Although the sculpted figures need repair throughout the years, and the monument undergoes regular cleaning, even today the Vimy Ridge memorial looks brand new. Its white stones contrast the blue skies and rolling hills in the large valley below. Just a kilometer away, a new visitor’s centre offers tours to over 700,000 people a year by real Canadian guides. They take groups through the trenches, preserved as they were a hundred years ago.

After the war, the trenches were preserved by pouring concrete into the original sandbags.

Myth Making of a Nation

While I would never minimise the great cost of human life associated to any battle, Vimy Ridge, as a cornerstone of Canadian national identity, is perpetuated by this imposing memorial and its regular commemoration. According to the Canadian Encyclopedia, the choice to build this memorial at Vimy Ridge “was a less a result of the battle’s importance than of Vimy’s extraordinary geographic location – a high vantage point with a commanding view, visible from miles around.” And, to be fair to the Canadian Battlefields Memorial Commission in 1920, it really is a glorious view.

Canadian historian, Tim Cook, claims that Vimy Ridge was elevated above other Canadian battles, at least partly, for political and national purposes. He addresses the divergence between history and mythmaking in his new book Vimy: the Battle and the Legend (2017):

“Canada is a country – like most – that places little stock in its history, teaching it badly, embracing it little, feeding it only episodically. As Canada developed over time, we cast aside much that grounded us in the past; yet there are some ideas, myths and icons that persistently carry the weight of nationhood. Vimy is one of them.”

The meaning behind Vimy Ridge – whether a bloody sacrifice of countless young men in a war forced upon them by an outmoded commitment to Empire, or perhaps a remarkable story of miraculous nation-forging against all odds – is evolving through a process of forgetting and remembering. With every new busload of Canadian tourists, British schoolchildren, curious Germans, and bewildered Americans, Vimy Ridge is reinterpreted and reconceptualised again and again to the waves of spectators in awe of its remarkable history.

But what I asked myself, one hundred years after the Canadians had won this beautiful vantage point in France, while standing under its majestic pillars on a sunny day in June 2017:

What would we remember of Vimy Ridge if it wasn’t for this impressive memorial?

Vimy Ridge is both a lesson in history and a lesson in remembrance. While Vimy Ridge might unify the two in one immaculate feat of human creation, they are not synonymous. The Battle of Vimy Ridge was an epic victory, where men from each corner of Canada joined together for the first time in a victorious campaign against their sworn enemy. But it wasn’t entirely Canadian – it was led by a British officer and supplied by British provisions. And it wasn’t entirely a victory – it had no decisive impact on the war and the German lines remained intact. Despite those important details, remembering Vimy Ridge at this grand memorial is a testament to a country mourning the great loss of its youngest citizens.

A Historian’s Quest in the Archives: How to Study Controversy around a Controversial President

Posted on September 27, 2017 by CSambells

Currently, I am in Hyde Park, New York, combing through the archives of President Franklin Delano Roosevelt. Have you heard of him? Of course you have! He was a pretty big deal. Not only was he elected when over a quarter of Americans were unemployed during the Great Depression – pulling them out of their collective misery through massive public works projects and reviving America’s trust in the economy through weekly radio broadcasts called “Fireside Chats”– but he also held office during one of the deadliest wars in American history. Oh, and he was crippled too. Having contracted polio in his 30s, he was the only physically disabled president to be elected to office. Ever.

FDR served as US President from 1933 to 1945. Here’s a flattering photo, courtesy of Densho Encyclopaedia

Considered the most influential president of the 20^th century, FDR’s impact has been felt ever since. Under his watch, unions were given the right to form. His government was the first to provide old-age security, unemployment benefits and disability and single-parent allowances. He introduced the American public to a new relationship with its government by calmly discussing the issues of the day over the radio while they sat comfortably in their homes. He declared that the role of the central government was to secure the material well-being of the American people. Having enacted the Executive Reorganisation Bill in 1939, he broadened and increased the presidency’s overall responsibilities. He supported the United Nations and ensured the US had a key role in the UN’s Relief and Rehabilitation Administration (and thus, a key role in reshaping post-war Europe). FDR substantially changed America, and its position in the world.

But FDR also had major flaws. Politically, he broke the no-third-term rule in 1940 and sought to centralise the power of the presidency, leading some to question if he would become a dictator. Under his command, he allowed the harsh internment of Japanese-Americans on the west coast. After his death, many questioned why Roosevelt never took a leading role in helping the Jews of Europe, leaving their welfare instead to private organizations and charities. Some claimed he was a racist. Others said he was just a narcissist.

FDR also had an unusual personal life. He was a proper Mama’s boy. The closeness to his mother created a toxic atmosphere, leaving little emotional room for anyone else. Despite his mother’s fierce opposition, he married his rather remarkable wife, Eleanor. They were cousins, albeit distant. But Eleanor was unusual too; she was an independent thinker and terribly clever, likely a lesbian, and eventually became a politician in her own right in the 1950s.

Sarah Roosevelt was a clever and educated woman who apparently doted on her son. At age 26, she married FDR’s father, James, 52 years old. The birth was difficult and she bore no other children. After James’ death in 1900, she held the majority of the Roosevelt fortune. Sarah died in 1941.

The Roosevelts had an odd relationship, which historians have commented served political ends rather than being a romantic union. But, they did produce six children! While Eleanor advocated for women’s rights and various social reforms, FDR pushed his own career towards vice presidency then eventually presidency. He dealt with a painful disability daily and he adequately “overcame” the perception of it (apparently, people didn’t realise the extent of his immobility because he was so excellent at hiding it in public). He even created a foundation and rehabilitation park for other polio victims in Well Springs, Georgia.

FDR had contracted polio while at his summer home in Campobello, Canada, in July 1921. He was just 39 years old. He eventually founded a home for other polio victims in Warm Springs, Georgia, depicted here in 1924.

Affairs were rampant in the Roosevelt household. FDR kept close company with Eleanor’s secretary, Lucy Mercer and, later, his own personal secretary, Marguerite “Missy” LeHand. Meanwhile Eleanor formed “close” relationships to like-minded women, going on holidays with them regularly, all with FDR’s blessing. He even built a small cottage for Eleanor and her friends to have sleepovers just two miles from the family home in Hyde Park. After her husband’s death, Eleanor became a chief philanthropist in post-war Europe, advocating for human rights (and especially children’s rights) in the new United Nations. Evidently, the Roosevelts lived remarkable and unusual lives, both together and apart.

Eleanor Roosevelt is celebrated as one of the most influential women of the 20th century. She pushed for social reforms, women’s rights, and human rights, offering her help and influence to marginalised groups and fringe societies. Notably, Eleanor was chair of the United Nation’s Human Rights Commission and, in 1948, was the chief proponent of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights.

In 1941, just a few years before FDR died, he oversaw the construction of the FDR Library and Archives on his family estate in Hyde Park. Not long after his death, his immediate family relinquished their rights to the estate and, at FDR’s request, it became a national park. Today it houses multiple series of the Roosevelt’s papers, with over 20,000 boxes of documents.

The FDR Library. Critics claimed FDR’s library was a shameful display of self-promotion, but he claimed it accomplished two goals: preserve documents and provide transparency of all his actions to the American people.

This brings me back to why I’m here. Considering the complexity of these multi-faceted pillars of American history, it is important to approach the Roosevelts with caution and respect, right?

But it’s tricky. As a historian, it’s hard to remain objective when you want certain things to be true. Or, when your research subject is just as controversial as the Roosevelts.

While Eleanor intrigues me, I am actually here for FDR alone. I want to discover why FDR was an obstinate and obstructive SCHMUCK to his closest ally, the British, during the Second World War. Let me explain…

During the Second World War, one of the most powerful weapons the Allies held against Nazi Germany was the economic blockade of Nazi-controlled continental Europe. ALL trade, including relief, sent by the Allies to Germany OR German-occupied countries was strictly forbidden during the war. This prevented Germany from plundering relief, while also forcing Germany to take full responsibility for the territories it conquered. Over time, the blockade would apply considerable pressure upon Germany and strain its resources and, thus, its ability to win the war. Seems logical, right?

The blockade policy was one of those items that was constantly discussed by all levels of multiple governments. I’ve witnessed this in the German, British, Swiss and now American archives. It’s incredible. And surprisingly, very rarely discussed by historians in any great detail (see Meredith Hindley or Jean Beaumont’s “Starving for Democracy”).

Public pressure from various groups (for example, thousands of letters written by concerned Yorkshire women’s groups or Pennsylvanian famers or Belgian mothers or various Red Cross branches) meant that governments were always rejecting pleas for relief from well-meaning citizens, large reputable charities, or governments in exile. And, due to Germany’s considerable exploitation of its conquered territories, the list of those governments begging for relief was very long: Polish, Belgian, Norwegian, Dutch, French, Yugoslav…

But blockade policy remained practically unyielding. (The single exception during the entre war was Greece because of a massive famine, but you can read about that here). So long as the Allies could hold it together, maintain unity on this key war policy, then the blockade have the strongest effect on the enemy.

But humanity is cunning. Swiss charities sought to overcome the blockade by relocating children to Switzerland instead. Massive child evacuations, which is the core of my research, successfully relocated Belgian, French and Yugoslav children to Switzerland for three month periods of recuperation. And the Germans allowed it! No great inconvenience to them, because it removed many mouths to feed and pacified parents. Over 60,000 children were successfully evacuated in this way during the war, and another 100,000 in the post-war period. Impressive, eh?

Swiss Red Cross nurses prepare to receive thousands of French and Belgian children at a train station in 1942 in Basel, Switzerland.

However, this changed in August 1942. Hitler’s armies invaded southern, unoccupied France and, soon after, began large round-ups of Jews. Initially, Jewish children were not included in the deportations to the East, which meant that thousands of children were abandoned and parentless. (A few weeks later though, the Germans rounded them up too).

A Belgian child (4 years old) with severe malnutrition at a Swiss train station, 1942.

Due to this invasion and deportation, thousands of French children now needed immediate relief. Swiss charities grappled with how to help. They approached the Allied governments that perhaps these Swiss-run evacuations could be increased – possibly to over 100,000 children! But, crucially, Switzerland too was experiencing war shortages – it could not adequately provide for all the children of Europe. So perhaps the Allies would send relief (food, medicines, vitamins) directly to Switzerland for all these children? Of course, the Swiss emphasised, they were neutral, not Nazi-controlled, so they were excluded from the Allies’ blockade policy.

It all sounds very logical. A clever and elegant solution to a major humanitarian crisis. While memos shot excitedly across the Atlantic between the US State Department and the British Foreign Office, dear President Roosevelt was having informal meetings with the Ambassador to Norway, Wilhelm Thorleif von Munthe af Morgenstierne. According to strongly-worded and angry British documents, in late October 1942, FDR promised the Ambassador – without consulting the British – that the US would send relief to Norway!

When the British heard of FDR’s assurances, they insisted that there was no way that relief could be sent to Norway without it being allowed also to Belgium, France, Poland, etc, thus breaking the blockade! Also, FDR’s promises complicated the possibility of sending relief to children evacuated to Switzerland, which would both relieve children while also respecting the blockade. Therefore, the British emphatically conveyed their absolute rejection of FDR’s promises to Norway in November 1942 and keenly awaited the American reply.

However, no reply was given. British documents reveal acute frustration and abhorrence that the US would ignore the British regarding such an important subject, to such an extent that Churchill himself was lobbied to become involved. And although Churchill and FDR met at the Casablanca Conference in January 1943, the British government still received no official reply. WHY?

FDR and Churchill were close allies during the war. The complete (and overwhelmingly detailed) correspondence was compiled by Warren F Kimball in THREE volumes. Notably, when writing informally, Churchill was referred to as “Former Naval Person.” Only in official correspondence was his title “Prime Minister,” indicating the intimacy of their relationship.

By August 1943, the Americans finally gave a half-hearted, vague and conditional reply that they might support extra provisions to Switzerland, but the British, Swiss and Americans took no action. Allied support for child evacuations was not raised again between the British and US until May 1944, just one month before the Allied invasion of Europe on DDay. Of course, by that point, a humanitarian mission for children was hardly as important as the rapid liberation of oppressed nations by the largest invasion in history.

BUT.

Why did FDR promise such a thing to Norway? Was it during a schmoozy, drunken lunch or a formal high-level meeting? Was the promise conditional or was it a blank cheque? Did the Norwegian Ambassador perhaps misunderstand FDR’s “promise” and in fact, no promise was made? Or was FDR’s “promise” actually hollow – perhaps a vain attempt to get the insistent Norwegian off his back – and the British were just overreacting? But then, if that was the case, why would FDR not reply immediately to his ally? Why ignore their determined attempts to find out what happened? WHY? Why, oh President Roosevelt, why?

Meanwhile, let’s all remember: children are starving, being rounded up and sent to concentration camps, experiencing violence and bombings and general oppression. This makes any bureaucratic error or deliberate avoidance all the more inexcusable.

This is the purpose of my research visit. To discover the answer to these questions. My current historical opinion of FDR is not too complimentary. But even I know it’s not fair to FDR, his legacy, or the study of history to jump to conclusions. Which brings me back to my original assessment of FDR…

President Roosevelt was obviously a brilliant politician and, in many ways, a great strategist. His lasting legacy is a testament to his commendable, practical approach and determination to improve American lives. But he also prioritised certain lives over others, and was a blatant narcissist. FDR liked being in control – to such an extent as being classified as a dictator – and sought personal validation from various audiences. Some legitimate, and some behind closed doors.

A large part of good historical research is accurately determining the motives, personalities, and fears of major historical figures. Both the problem and beauty of studying FDR as a historical topic is that he was just as flawed as he was extraordinary. Throughout his remarkable but challenged life, he engaged with a broader spectrum of victory (and failure!) than others, so predicting his motivations will be exceptionally difficult. He is an infinitely complex character.

My hunch about the whole promising-relief-to-Norway thing? Based upon all the research, documentaries, articles and books I’ve had to read about the man, FDR was NOT impulsive. FDR was deliberate and purposeful. Everything he did was meaningful and goal-oriented. He was an impeccable strategist. Therefore, I truly think that President Roosevelt had a reason behind his promise to Norway. Now, I just need to figure it out…

Wish me luck!

Refugees, Labour and Violence: Rethinking “borders” while in the Scottish Borders

Posted on September 10, 2017 by CSambells

Last month, I holidayed in a region of southern Scotland called “The Borders.” As the boyfriend was raised in one of its charming towns, I had a built-in tour guide. He showed me all the fluffy sheep, the gorgeous green rolling hills and told me stories of the Borders’ sparkling history of violence and raiding.

This vantage of the Tweed valley and Eildon Hills is called “Scott’s View,” as it is reputed as one of Sir Walter Scott’s favourite views.

This lush swath of land held a contentious political boundary that separated Scotland from England. Between the 13^th and 17^th centuries, this magnificent countryside became ground zero in the quest to define those two nationalities. Repetitive small conflicts and systematic raiding dominated the region due to a group of mercenaries called the Border Reivers. Equipped with bows and arrows and mounted on little ponies, they were notorious for stealing, raping and fighting for live stock and lands.

Blog 7 - Borders 1200px-Reivers_raid_on_Gilnockie_Tower

Queen Elizabeth I was so impressed with the Border Reivers ruthless success, that she once said, “with ten thousand such men, James VI could shake any throne in Europe.” (photo: wikipedia)

Today, traces of the intense violence are still present in the abandoned peel towers that dot the countryside, where residents would hide from invaders. One particular peel tower called Smailholm Tower was made popular by Scotland’s cherished author, Sir Walter Scott. As a child battling polio in the late 1700s, Scott stayed with his grandparents at Sandyknowes farm just beside Smailholm Tower and even played in its ruins.

Smailholm Tower was one of hundreds of defensive fortifications that dotted the countryside. Inside was often a local laird and enough room to house the sheep and cattle, a major resource for the Border Reivers.

Due to the strong oral traditions among the local farmers and shepherds, Scott also learned about the Border Reivers’s raids through workers on the farm, including his auntie who would sing to him. Years later, Scott transcribed and modified some of these folk tales, popularising them through his writings and publications. In one fell swoop, Sir Walter Scott’s renditions of these stories soon came to define an entire portion of Scotland’s (heavily disputed) land and (blood-soaked) history into the romanticised nation we know today.

Abbotsford, Sir Walter Scott’s family home, is now a B&B and museum.

While Scott’s impact upon Scotland is indisputable – he seemed to be a remarkable and eccentric man – the Scottish Borders as a specific region made me stop and think. Scotland and England would eventually find peace (to an extent) so that the violence would stop, but what do such borders achieve?

Are borders entirely arbitrary, or do they serve a useful purpose? What do borders accomplish? How do borders define a group? Do they cause more peace or more violence? Do we still need them? Or should we build more?

I’m not the first to ask such questions, especially in recent history. Just last month, it was the 70^th anniversary of India and Pakistan’s creation. Or, it was the 70^th anniversary of one of the bloodiest legacies that ever came from drawing a border.

In the immediate post-war era, calls for Indian independence from British rule could no longer by ignored by Westminster. Muhammad Ali Jinnah, leader of the Congress and Muslim League, demanded the creation of a Muslim state. With British PM Clement Atlee’s strong support, Lord Louis Mountbatten and Cyril Radcliffe were responsible for hastily drawing a boundary that essentially cut Punjab and Bengal almost in half. But the problem was that millions of Muslims lived in what would become Hindu-majority India, while millions of Hindus and Sikhs lived in what would be Muslim-majority Pakistan.

A photo from 19 September 1947 of an overcrowded train station by New Delhi (from an article by Dawn).

The “Mountabatten Plan” was submitted just five days before India and Pakistan were partitioned (14^th and 15^th August, respectively). Celebrations ensued, but so did mass migration. Over 15 million Muslims, Sikhs and Hindus essentially swapped countries, leading to over a million deaths in the violence that followed. Chaos reigned at train stations, looting and food shortages were commonplace. People apparently defended themselves from discriminate attacks with knives, guns, swords. Thousands sought shelter and refuge in sacred temples and tombs. Millions died because of this arbitrary, hastily drawn line in the earth. Millions died because of a border.

Borders, essentially, divide people.

Hundreds of years ago, physical features of the land would define a people, such as river or forest. But in more recent history, borders have been politically motivated rather than geographically defined. Or sometimes both. I remember being a young Canadian elementary student in Social Studies class and asking why the US-Canada border was straight on the left (west), but squiggly on the right (east). My teacher laughed and said the St. Lawrence River was the chosen boundary in the east, while the 49^th latitude was the boundary in the west. The answer confused me, but then I was told that the US-Canada border is the longest undefended border in the world. “But we’ll be okay,” she reassured me. “Okay from what?” I remember thinking.

Borders “protect” people.

They keep foreigners out. They help us to define ourselves in relation to the “other” whatever we perceive it to be: barbarity, violence, backwardness, et cetera. By doing so, borders create a sense of homogeneity, safety and order for those inside, implying further that such civilised aspects of society only exist within that border. Borders thus legitimise our identities and strengthen our communities. Evidently, borders do accomplish a great deal.

Today’s borders allow free trade, the free movement of goods to be exchanged. This allows us to create links (sometimes exploitive) with our neighbours and is one of the best things to come out of colonisation and globalisation. And yet we do not afford that same freedom of movement to people, to labour.

As British journalist Giles Fraser says, “We are so hypocritical about our borders.” We will celebrate the fall of the Berlin Wall, but we will fortify Calais and the UK against the waves of eastern refugees and migrants. We will condemn Trump’s proposed wall with Mexico, but continue the oppressive system of First Nations reservations in Canada and the US. We shake our heads at the illegal detainment of Palestinians in the West Bank and Gaza Strip, but we will applaud the commendable efforts of Médecins Sans Frontières (or, Doctors without Borders).

Why such hypocrisy?

Professor Jonothan Moses claims in International Migration: Globalization’s Last Frontier (2006), that “as distance in the world recedes with technological, social, demographic and political advances, the demand for international migration will surely grow.” The only way to solve our multiple global problems, he claims, is through free migration. It is the last frontier to be conquered by the global community. Naturally, this sounds both radical and implausible, but he assures us that eventually we would become more just and happier, as the world’s economic and political bounty would be better distributed.

A world without borders? Is that possible?

Just imagine a world where you could visit or permanently move anywhere you wanted without restrictions. Tropical islands everywhere would become overwhelmed with the world’s richest retirement-aged elites. Many long-distance relationships could be solved. Families separated by war or migration could be reunited. Unmarried women could backpack through Saudi Arabia! And, importantly, the global divide between the rich underpopulated North and the poor overpopulated South would rebalance. Eventually.

But a world without borders is difficult to comprehend. So if a borderless, free-moving, global population is one radical extreme, then at the other end of the spectrum is a world with well-defined “nations”. We know this world, because we are living in it. A world with borders, barriers and walls, such as those that currently in Israel/Palestine, or those proposed by Trump with Mexico, or those proposed by Brexit with Europe. No more EU Schengen plans. No more visa-free travel. Everyone restricted to their little nation. Everyone defined by their borders.

The closing ceremonies of the London 2012 Olympics demonstrates just how much we are defined by our borders (Photo: Daily Mail).

But then, history. History tells us that borders aren’t necessarily the best invention since sliced bread. Borders cause war, then war happens, then borders are redrawn. Repeat. For example, one of the strongest underlying factors for the outbreak of the First World War was the fact that people were angry with their borders. And this anger took the form of nationalism. Pause here.

Nationalism (generally, a pride in one’s nation) is based upon a collective identity due to ethnic, religious, and/or political reasons. It’s a massive concept that historians debate endlessly (see Anthony Smith’s Theories of Nationalism (1971), Ernest Gellner’s Nations and Nationalism (1983), anything by Eric J. Hobsbaum). Because borders keep foreigners out, legitimise citizens within, and nurture collective pride and identity, nationalism is tied inextricably to borders – real or imagined. Nationalism does not always need to exist in a community, but it does exist because that community is legitimised by, or rebelling against, its borders. Correct? Yes.

So, in the early 1900s, multiple ethnic communities in the Balkans were formulating new identities that wanted autonomy from the Austria-Hungarian state and old Emperor Franz Joseph in Vienna. Two previous localised Balkan wars had proved just how forceful these groups were becoming. But the conflict escalated into the First World War when a member of one Serbian nationalist group assassinated the nephew of the Emperor. Nationalism, aggravated by borders (that these groups felt limited by), was thus a major component of the ongoing tensions that sparked and accelerated that conflict.

After the First World War, borders were redrawn: Poland, Finland and the Baltics were born. Austria-Hungary was split into Austria, Hungary, Yugoslavia and Czechoslovakia. Alsace-Lorraine was returned to the French. German colonies were transferred to the victors. The League of Nations was created to hopefully broker ongoing peace and stability after an estimated 25 million deaths.

Versailles, deutsche Verhandlungdelegation

The German delegates at the Treaty of Versailles: Professor Walther Schücking, Reichspostminister Johannes Giesberts, Justice Minister Otto Landsberg, Foreign Minister Ulrich Graf von Brockdorff-Rantzau, Prussian State President Robert Leinert, and financial advisor Carl Melchior. (Photo from Wikipedia).

For a time, it seemed to work. But the League of Nations faltered. Nationalism grew. This time Germany and Russia became massive forces that spurned many citizens to believe that their nations had not only the means but the right to reclaim lost territories and even conquer new ones. Hitler and Stalin’s fierce ambitions, and weak Allied leadership in the late 1930s heightened tensions and nurtured opportunity for conflict. The Second World War resulted in an estimated 50 to 80 million deaths.

The United Nations attempted to succeed where the League of Nations failed. European Integration became central to rebuilding a world after total devastation. A common market was created among its first four members and the free movement of goods became a cornerstone of collective European prosperity. Go, Europe!

Simultaneously, the Cold War constructed “the Iron Curtain” and, again, divided Europe and the world. The Berlin Wall was erected in 1961 and symbolised the cold, hard barrier between western capitalism and eastern communism. The last remaining right-wing dictatorships in Portugal and Spain soon dissolved. In 1989, the Berlin Wall fell and East and West Germany were finally reunited. Borders that had previously been so indestructible for decades seem to crumble in a few short months.

Over 138 people died trying to escape through the Wall, and an estimated 5,000 were successful. The first to escape was East German border guard, Corporal Conrad Schumann, in August 1961 (Photo from here)

By 1993, the Schengen Agreements allowed for movement of “four freedoms”: goods, services, money and people. Millions of young people were able to study in other EU countries and the Euro currency was adopted by most EU nations. Remarkably, the EU eased gracefully into a period of prosperity and harmony. Goals to tackle climate change and terrorism unified these once national enemies. Germany, despite his historic territorial ambitions, became the world leader in accepting refugees and migrants. The EU won the Noble Peace Prize in 2012.

But then, Brexit. And Trump’s Mexico wall. It seems that some western leaders believe tightening borders, not eradicating them, is the best response to global migration.

So what’s the solution?

Rethink the nature of “borders.” Although totally removing borders is radical and implausible in the near future, global migration will only increase. As migrants move between countries, they often transition through multiple societies, adopting new identities in each and thus complicating the simple labels of “origin” and “destination.” Global migration is not only increasing, but becoming vastly more complex.

History proves that borders do not keep foreigners “out” nor keep citizens “in”. And why should they? The global economy is based upon free trade, the free movement of goods, so why shouldn’t that be extended to people, to labour? Meanwhile, current gaps between the rich and poor, the north and south, the citizens and refugees, are eroding due to instantaneous communications, faster transportation, and global infrastructures and this exact type of trade. Sorry, world, but refugees and migrants won’t just “go away,” no matter how high you build those walls.

According to the International Organisation of Migration, “Migration is an integral part of global transformation and development processes rather than a problem to be solved.” If true, then how do we improve this?

Of course, the best remedies lay in helping those on the other side of the border. Provide immediate aid to victims of war, hunger and disease. Allow those fleeing persecution and war to cross borders, with or without passports or visas. Commit to large-scale, international resettlement projects across borders. Do not underfund long-term peace projects that tackle the root causes of war, hunger and disease. Persecute human traffickers heavily. Combat all forms of racism and xenophobia at home and abroad.

The Scottish Borders unknowingly provides us a great deal of information about how this could work on a global scale. Although fighting over human and material resources could continue for centuries, strict borders will eventually disappear. People will eventually live without violence. And while pride for one’s nation is still very strong in this part of the world, and tensions between Scotland and English still certainly exist, the Borders is a serene and renowned land with its numerous peel towers and fluffy sheep.

Who wouldn’t be proud of that?

Chelsea Sambells

Historian, Communications & Policy Researcher

Tag Archives: war