When German troops occupied the Rhineland on March 7, 1936, the Nazi Third Reich succeeded in freeing Germany from the last fetter by which she had been bound after her defeat in 1918. More importantly, the Rhineland incident marks perhaps the last crucial occasion upon which the aggressive Nazi drive might have been checked with relatively little effort. Seldom has the course of history been so definitely fixed by a single act. The events surrounding the Rhineland episode comprise one of the clearest lessons on record for both the student and the practitioner of international and military affairs.
It was on Saturday morning, March 7, 1936. that the German Foreign Minister, Baron Konstantin von Neurath, in Berlin informed the Ambassadors of France, Great Britain, Belgium, and Italy that the spirit of the Locarno Pact had been broken by a Franco-Soviet Treaty which Germany considered to be directed against herself. In accordance with the Treaty of Versailles, the signatories of the Locarno Pact of 1925 (France, Great Britain, Germany, Belgium, Italy) had given mutual guarantees of their territorial status quo and the demilitarization of the Rhineland. The demilitarized zone included all of Germany west of the Rhine River and a strip fifty kilometers east of the Rhine. This zone had been established by the Treaty of Versailles as a buffer between France and Belgium on one side, and Germany on the other. The Rhineland had been vacated by the last Allied occupation forces in 1930.
Concurrently with the Nazi announcement that the Locarno Pact was now considered to be invalid, Baron von Neurath stated that German troops were in process of occupying the Rhineland as a “symbol” of Germany’s sovereignty over her entire land. During the day of March seventh, the foregoing actions also were communicated to the German Ambassadors in Paris, London, Brussels, and Rome. Meanwhile, at noon on that day, Chancellor Adolf Hitler addressed the Reichstag to explain the momentous event then in train, and to repeat to the world what had been told to the four Ambassadors. Hitler’s speech to the Reichstag gave his justifications for occupying the demilitarized zone and effectively laid the foundation for German public support of the action. This speech is considered by many students as a fine combination of political astuteness and opportunism; Time Magazine (16 March 1936) called it of “definite greatness.” It stands as a prime example of the adroit use of propaganda to assist in political gain.
It is not the purpose of this article to adjudge the validity of Hitler’s reasons or the legality of Germany’s acts on March 7, 1936. Suffice it to relate that Hitler’s speech played on Germany’s pride and emotions to the limit by reasserting the persuasive German conviction that the Treaty of Versailles had resulted in grossly unfair treatment to Germany. He stressed the unequal consideration in world affairs that had been given Germany and the efforts he had made toward Franco-German understanding. He went on to allege that the incipient Soviet- French Treaty was directed “exclusively against Germany,” and that this critical development was reinforced by a similar Soviet alliance with Czechoslovakia. Hitler scored France’s alliance with Russia as a “clear breach” of the Locarno Pact, thus relieving Germany of any obligation further to honor the pact. He then offered to negotiate new agreements for the peace of Europe, now that German control of the Rhineland had restored her to the status equal to that of the other powers. Essentially, the Nazi peace proposals were:
(1) a treaty providing new demilitarized zones along Germany’s borders with Belgium and France.
(2) a 25-year non-aggression pact among these powers, with the Netherlands invited to join, and Great Britain and Italy to be guarantors.
(3) a Western European air pact, to prevent surprise air attack.
(4) a series of bilateral peace pacts with the states on Germany’s eastern boundary.
Further, Hitler now offered to rejoin the League of Nations with the provisos that Germany in time might regain some colonies and that the League Covenant be separated from the Treaty of Versailles. The Hitler speech ended on the soothing notes that Germany, now having regained her equality and honor, was ready to live in peace with her neighbors. Then der Fuehrer announced that a plebiscite would be held on March twenty-ninth in order that the German people might pass judgment on the Rhineland action.
Since dawn of March seventh, detachments of German infantry and artillery had been repossessing their former Rhineland garrisons. The German Rhinelanders greeted the troops with great enthusiasm. Reports vary as to the strength, but reliable accounts indicate that by March ninth there were some nineteen infantry and thirteen artillery battalions, totalling about 35,000 men, the equivalent of two divisions. A few squadrons of the Luftwafe flew over the area on March seventh. Hitler’s caution may be reflected in that only three battalions crossed to the west of the Rhine river, and a strip about eight miles from the French and Belgian borders was declared by the Nazi military command as absolutely off limits to German troops. The size of this force was not particularly formidable nor were its actions belligerent. However, the German force was not of such token size that it could be ejected summarily. Indeed, the choice of this force appears to have been an excellent one, because it was not large enough to be an aggressive threat to France and Beligum, yet it was not so small that those two nations could force its withdrawal without considerable effort and risk of war. Inasmuch as only German territory had been occupied, the challenge to the interested powers was cleverly contrived indeed. However, the “symbolic” mask that heralded the occupation was removed by the immediate absorption into the army of 30,000 or more German state police (Landespolizei), and of the Labor Corps, the S.S., and other paramilitary organizations. The total force was something like 100,000 within a few weeks.
Thus, to a Europe where crises had long been a normal feature of life, the Locarno Treaty was flagrantly violated during the fateful weekend of March 7, 1936. The tangled skein of international relations at the time of the Rhineland thrust makes the task of analyzing the situation highly complicated. This being so in retrospect, how much more difficult it must have been for the governments concerned to react wisely in those confused days of 1936!
The International Atmosphere
As expressed in the 1936 account of the American Council on Foreign Relations, the year 1936 was the worst since 1920 for violence, confusion, and disillusionment. Hitler could hardly have selected a time better suited to his purposes if he had been possessed of omnipotency. Italy’s Ethiopian venture was diverting France, Great Britain, and the United States. The Japanese conquest of China was distracting these and other great powers as was the Spanish War. Political instability was rife in Latin America and the Balkans. International Communism was obfuscating the civilized world with the Popular Front technique whereby Communists were allying themselves with Socialists or liberals. The Soviet Union’s position in 1936 was still enigmatic in the consciousness of most peoples and governments. Domestic struggles for political power and for recovery from the great depression of a few years before were of dominant concern to European nations and the United States. The foreign policies of all the great powers were typified by extremes of short-sighted self interest.
Internationally speaking, paradox was the order of the day. The disarmament efforts of earlier years had borne no fruits; quite to the contrary, nearly every significant state on earth was increasing its armaments as insurance against the unspeakable possibility that war might come. Nations made strenuous pleas for the improvement of world economic conditions while these same nations imposed impossible economic obstacles to world recovery from the great depression of 1929-1933. Honor and integrity had taken a severe setback in a world that seemed to have lost its sense of values.
Representatives from Italy, France, the United States, and Great Britain (Japan had declined to be limited further in armaments) had been sitting for months in futile discussions about naval reductions as if they were ignorant of the feverish rearmament of Germany and Japan. To add to the contradiction, the Naval Disarmament Conference was proceeding in London during March, 1936, when the four participants were each pushing their own rearmament programs.
The influence of the various organs and treaties for peace had waned drastically. The League of Nations had been helpless to prevent Japan from warring on China, Italy from raping Ethiopia, or Germany from rearming. The existence of unbridled war in China and Abyssinia meant that the Kellogg-Briand Peace Pact, as well as the League, had been no deterrent to war. Still, most of Europe clung to the extravagance of wishful thinking, of hating the thought of war so much that the grim reality of conflict was brushed aside. Faced with compelling evidence that the peaceful methods at their disposal were impotent to prevent disturbances of the peace, the democratic nations remained stubbornly hypnotized by the siren-song of peace at any price; when they looked about, they would not admit what they could see.
To cap this general chaos, an influential Paris newspaper published on February 28, 1936, an interview with Hitler in which the dictator said, “I wish to prove to my people that the idea of hereditary enmity between France and Germany is an absurdity.” After asking France to refrain from alliance with Communist Russia, Hitler told the French, “You have before you a Germany nine tenths of whose people have complete confidence in their leader, and this leader says to you, ‘Let us be friends.’ ” While not blinded by Hitler’s display of eloquence, the French government, to its credit, acted immediately in the faint hope of rapprochement. On March 2 the French Ambassador, M. Franfois-Poncet, was received by Hitler and his Foreign Minister and told that detailed proposals for improving the strained Franco-German relations would be submitted to the French government in time, but the Ambassador was requested to keep the interview secret for the present. Subsequently it was learned that Hitler had no intention of abandoning the Rhineland venture; hence, the suggested proposals must have been intended as a diversion.
It was in this foggy atmosphere of international tension and confusion that the Rhineland was occupied on March 7, 1936. Apart from the legal or moral offenses which could be inferred, the entry of German troops into the demilitarized zone removed the last safeguard that had insulated France, Belgium, and the Netherlands from the threat of German attack. The pathetic hopes which France had wrapped up at Locarno vanished overnight.
This was not the first warning that aggression was on the march: Japan, Italy, and Germany had shown repeated tendencies to shatter the uneasy equilibrium, but the world had not heeded these warnings. When Hitler struck in the Rhineland, the questions now had to be answered as to what had been violated? What should and could be done about it? What were the obligations of the various nations? And how seriously should the affair be taken? In short, was this the time to draw the line and risk war?
The manner in which the interested powers sought answers to such questions is a shocking record of irresolution. The answers that were given appear so spineless in retrospect that one is tempted to doubt their veracity and to view them as lines in a tawdry melodrama. It seems inexplicable that nations could value their survival so little as to behave as did those affected by Hitler’s move into the Rhineland. To be sure, the democratic states involved in this affair were faced with a maze of difficulties, but these were not a legitimate bar to action. Now, adverting to the major considerations, as best they can be determined, it is pertinent to assess the results of the Nazi breach of the Locarno Pact. Before surveying the diplomatic and popular reactions to the Rhineland episode, it may be well to consider first the military situation, since Hitler’s bluff was a careful blend of propaganda, diplomatic propriety, and political rationality, climaxed by a show of military force.
Relative Military Strengths
A glance at the military forces at the disposal of certain powers in early 1936 reveals that preponderant strength was against Germany: Germany’s organized military, paramilitary, and Labor Service forces amounted to 425,800 and 700 aircraft; her reserve forces were about 1,850,000 men. Austria and Hungary each had about 35,000 men and 800,000 reservists between them. Italy was mobilized for her war in Ethiopia and probably had at least 1,000,000 troops standing ready in Italy. The world had seen recent signs of Italo-German amity; however, as a guarantor of the Pact which Germany was about to violate, Italy’s position vis à vis Germany was doubtful.
Yugoslavia had 141,000 regular troops, Czechoslovakia about 175,000, and Rumania nearly 200,000; these states each had between 600 and 700 aircraft and sizable reserve forces. The Soviet Union had the largest army in Europe with around 1¼ million men under arms, 3,000 aircraft, and reserves of 14 million (it appears that the Nazis had little fear of or respect for the effectiveness of the Red Army). Scandinavian and Baltic forces were of no importance. Belgium and the Netherlands had forces capable only of token resistance. Great Britain had a small but well-trained army, a much-vaunted navy, and about 1,200 aircraft. As to France, her army of nearly 650,000 was claimed to be the best in the world, and 100,000 of these troops were stationed near the German frontier. The French Maginot Line of modern fortifications was considered to be a highly effective barrier; and France had 1,600 to 1,800 military airplanes and reserves of 5 million men.
From the foregoing, it seems that Germany stood more or less alone in undertaking the Rhineland venture. The Berlin- Rome Axis was not yet firm, and Italy was in no position to risk her Ethiopian campaign by either coming to Hitler’s aid or joining France against Germany. Austria and Hungary at the time were oriented more toward Italy than toward Germany. Even with the dubious advantage of Austro-Hungarian assistance, Germany could amass less than half a million men and 850 aircraft against the nearly two and one half million men and 6,700 air craft of France and her allies. Germany thus risked a war in which she was outnumbered about 5 to 1 at the outset. Had war occurred, France and her allies could call upon reserves of some 25 million as against about 2½ million in the German camp; similarly, the odds in naval strength were against the Nazis. Qualitatively, it was believed at the time that Germany’s regular army was excellent; but the French and much of world opinion believed France’s army to be superior in quality as well as numbers (a belief which later performance failed to sustain). In any case, the question of qualitative superiority likely was academic in a case where the quantitative advantage was so preponderantly against the Germans.
Reactions of the Powers
Against the backdrop of the confused international situation and the military strengths of the nations concerned, it is pertinent to examine the reactions of the principal players in the Rhineland scene.
In Germany, the move into the former buffer zone was acclaimed with joy. However, there must have been a good many anxious days during which the positions of the other Locarno Powers and their allies took shape. There had been sharp division in the Nazi government on the wisdom of reoccupying the Rhineland. Goering and Goebbels are said to have advocated the project, while Schacht and von Neurath opposed it on economic and political grounds. The Chief of the General Staff, General von Blomberg, was reluctant to risk retreat or defeat for the small and partially-trained German Army. Hitler, himself, is believed to have held serious misgivings about the subject, but in the end he decided that the time was ripe from Germany’s internal as well as external standpoint. It is widely believed that Hitler had no intention of fighting in the event the move was opposed, but his intention never had to be tested.
In France, there was great consternation. In the words of Winston Churchill, the German move came as “a hideous shock” to French opinion. The French Cabinet met at once, while Hitler was still addressing the Reichstag. There appears to have been, at first, an impulse to mobilize, but this was moderated almost immediately (the high cost of mobilization was considered to be unacceptable). That same evening the French government announced that France would not take independent action but would appeal to the Council of the League of Nations (to the great relief of London and Berlin). Also that evening a statement was broadcast by French Premier Sarraut over France’s state radio condemning Germany’s action and rejecting Hitler’s new “peace proposals.”
France not only refrained from mobilization but also decided not to call upon the other Locarno Powers to come to her support. Instead, the French government adopted the procedure laid down at Locarno for dealing with treaty breaches which were not “flagrant.” This faint-hearted response to the German challenge cast a form that was to be broken only after six years of world war.
On the afternoon of March seventh, the representatives of Russia, Yugoslavia, and Czechoslovakia had given French Foreign Minister Flandin assurances of support for any action that France might take. Poland was bound by treaties of mutual assistance with both France and Germany, and, although she strove to straddle the fence, Poland, too, gave France assurance (if halfheartedly) that Polish treaty obligations to France would be upheld, if it came to that. The Soviet Ambassador made special efforts to impress upon France the need for a resolute stand, contending that for Germany to get away with this breach would encourage her to commit greater hostile acts, the consequences of which might be far more difficult to handle. In the negotiations that followed, the Soviet government took the strongest stand taken by any power against the German coup and Hitler’s “peace proposals.” (Already the Soviet-Nazi incompatibility was mutually understood; both dictatorships recognized that the inevitable clash was just a matter of time.) Belgium, the other Locarno power affected directly by German troops in the buffer zone, followed a restrained policy, favoring conciliation.
Italy adopted an attitude of reserve and used the incident as a lever in gaining acceptance of her Ethiopian conquests. Italy took part in the subsequent negotiations but her position was largely neutral.
The British government acted with extreme caution and urged the French to act calmly. Hitler’s “peace offers” were welcome to a large segment of the British public. British pacifism was at its height; many British citizens and officials felt that Germany had been treated with undue harshness by the Versailles Treaty, and sympathy dominated their reason in reacting to the Rhineland action. Britain had done more than one thing to encourage Hitler, and contradiction governed British reaction in the Rhineland episode. Foreign Secretary Eden told the French and German ambassadors that the breach was “most flagrant,” and later told Parliament that Britain was “honor bound to come ... to the assistance of the country attacked.” However, he added that Great Britain was prepared to negotiate on the basis of Germany’s proposals. Opinion was divided within the British government, and the net effect was British equivocation, which increased further the paralysis that had taken hold of France’s will to act.
The London Conferences
The weeks immediately following the Rhineland incident provide an almost Alice- in-Wonderland recitation of how sovereign states should not behave in the safeguarding of their national interests. Diplomats traveled frantically from capital to capital while governments met in extraordinary sessions. Parliaments debated and ambassadors wrote dispatches. France and Belgium laid the problem before the Council of the League of Nations, an agency demonstrably unable to cope with even lesser difficulties. On March twelfth, Italy and Great Britain refused to join France in placing sanctions against Germany. This was the strongest measure proposed during the entire episode; the records available do not indicate that military action was proposed at any stage of the proceedings.
It is disheartening to review the series of meetings, governmental statements, and indulgence in legalistic nonsense by the nations upon whose interests the Rhineland affair had impinged. France was clearly the state most interested in Hitler’s bold move, but France failed to call the Nazi bluff. In her indecisiveness France was encouraged by Britain to do nothing. In both of these countries the illusion of collective security through the League of Nations still clouded the atmosphere.
The Locarno Powers, other than Germany, met in Paris on March tenth and moved to London on the twelfth. A few days later the Council of the League of Nations also convened in London. On March nineteenth the Council adopted a resolution that established Germany’s breach of the Locarno Treaty. Germany’s delegation to London under von Ribbentrop worked for acceptance of Germany’s proposals to negotiate a new European peace. At the end of March the German plebiscite registered by a vote of nearly 100 per cent Germany’s approval of Hitler’s bold move. Counterproposals followed each other for months. Discussions dragged on to no conclusion and by the end of the year, the re-militarization of the Rhineland stood as a fait accompli par excellence.
It is difficult to reach any other conclusion than one which places the main onus on France. She was the great power most directly concerned with Germany’s resurgence. She had sufficient strength to call the Nazi bluff; she had allies at least some of which expressed themselves as ready to stand by her; and she it was who had demanded at Versailles most of the check- reins that Germany had broken one by one. It seems true enough that any decision was a difficult one for France in view of the confused circumstances, but difficulty does not excuse cowardice in statesmen.
There seems to be little doubt that Great Britain exercised undue restraint on France. Winston Churchill relates that the British government urged France to take no precipitate action and that a typical British view was expressed by Lloyd George’s assertion that Germany had violated nothing “because there was provocation.” The British desired intently to use Hitler’s peace offer as a basis to negotiate some sort of general settlement for Europe, and this seems to have overshadowed any constructive British efforts toward a redress of the Rhineland action. The French insistence on a German rebuff as a condition precedent to negotiations ran completely counter to British inclination; the French distrusted Hitler’s word far more than did the British, but France lacked the courage of her convictions. France spoke boldly and acted weakly. Whatever the fundamental causes of French inaction, she appears to have found justification in the British disposition to “keep our heads.” Apparently the French Foreign Minister made strenuous efforts to arouse a feeling of firmness in France and in London, but he got nowhere; the fact is that France did nothing. Had she used force in the Rhineland she probably would have changed the course of history.
France took no account of the fact that Hitler respected force like nothing else; she forgot that Germany’s effort in 1934 to interfere openly in Austria was effectively stopped by Italy’s threat to move troops to the Brenner Pass. The fear of war was great in France as well as in Britain. There is evidence that the British view was strongly colored by the hope that a settlement in Western Europe would be well worthwhile even if it entailed abandonment of Eastern
Europe to German expansionism; furthermore, a free hand to the East might pacify Nazi claims for colonies. The lack of accord between France and Great Britain stemmed largely from France’s adamant refusal to trust Germany’s word, while Britain felt that the risk of trusting was worth taking- forebodings of “peace at any price.” France became considerably annoyed over the British attempt to act as mediator rather than a positive guarantor of a treaty. The crux of the matter is that neither France nor Great Britain enjoyed at the time a leadership wise and strong enough to take the steps that might have halted German aggression. A study of the developments leads to the conclusion that a nation not willing to fight for what it considers to be right can expect the worst in the long run, if not the short.
It appears that French concern could have been assuaged with relatively little sacrifice by Germany had Hitler elected to do so; but he got what he wanted anyway. French demands were rapidly watered down progressively during the London conferences. As long as some trace of legality could be preserved (such as submitting to the Hague Court the question of compatibility between the Franco-Soviet and the Locarno Pacts) France likely would have been agreeable. France wanted Germany to pay lip service to international law if nothing else. Meanwhile, Germany’s position became more solid as the first weeks of negotiation wore on, and the coming “vote of confidence” made any degree of retrenchment increasingly improbable on the part of the Nazis. The use of an international police force in the Rhineland was proposed during the conferences, but immediate German reaction was so set against this that the idea died rapidly. The Germans were so rigidly opposed to diluting their gains that they even rejected a harmless enough request that the Rhineland, temporarily, not be fortified.
In mid-April, 1936, there occurred meetings between the General Staffs of France, Great Britain, and Belgium for the purpose of restoring confidence among those nations in respect to future developments; the results were inconclusive. Further equivocation played into Germany’s hand. The Franco-British impasse had developed beyond Hitler’s fondest hopes. In June, a new French government (the Front Populaire) under M. Leon Blum came to power and proceeded on a more conciliatory course toward Germany. By July, 1936, the British, Belgian, and French governments issued a communique which amounted to recognition of Germany’s Rhineland occupation and called for a meeting to revise the Locarno Pact. Under British leadership there were attempts from August to December to assemble a five-power conference of the Locarno powers, but Italy and Germany found excuses to stall any such assembly. Meanwhile, Germany and Italy drew closer together, Belgium began to withdraw into “traditional neutrality,” and Britain assured France and Belgium of military support in event of attack; France pledged comparable aid to Great Britain and Belgium. In August, Hitler increased the term of conscription from one to two years, and all the other major powers continued to improve their military potentials. Thus ended the Locarno Pact as an instrument of peace, if ever it had been that.
Impact on the United States
Of more than parenthetical interest is the remarkably detached nature of reaction in the United States. Whereas the incident and its European repercussions were adequately reported by the American press and radio, generally the Rhineland affair was taken to be further evidence that the United States policy of neutrality toward Europe was sound. Hitler’s breaking of the Locarno Pact was fuel for the fires of American isolationism, which were burning their brightest at the time.
1936 was a Presidential election year. Recovery from the depression was going well under Franklin Roosevelt’s New Deal. Storm clouds in Europe and Asia were acknowledged, but that was the extent of it. In March, 1936, there were devastating floods in the United States and unemployment was still a major problem. Inter-American cooperation was being pressed. Although defense appropriations doubled in the previous five years, the United States Army still was about equal in size to that of Czechoslovakia. Any thought of American military intervention in European affairs would have been unheard of. Under such circumstances the United States could hardly have been expected to take active interest in a move of German troops into German territory.
Nevertheless, the reaction of the United States press was quite strong; all but the most isolationist elements of the press exhibited more foresight than the government expressed, and they likely would have supported an active United States interest in the matter. There appears to have been no lack of appreciation that the Rhineland thrust was of tremendous importance, and newspaper accounts were commendably complete. However, the overriding impression that accrues is that the affair was felt to be exclusively Europe’s concern. The New York Times printed faithful accounts of the march into the Rhineland, Hitler’s address to the Reichstag, and the ensuing statements and negotiations between governments. Editorial opinion expressed by the New York Times included assertions that the Treaty of Versailles already had lasted longer than it deserved, that the United States had made the treaty hopeless by failing to ratify it, and that here was the gravest crisis since the World War. Other reputable newspapers like the Christian Science Monitor of the same period reported the affair less fully than the New York Times, but covered it adequately. The New York Daily Worker suffered a two-day lag in reporting the incident, but as soon as the word came through from Moscow the Daily Worker engaged for several weeks in trumpeting Hitler’s action as a direct threat to the “great bulwark of peace,” the Soviet Union. Time magazine carried extensive, but rather cavalier, impressions in its accounts for several weeks. Nearly every aspect of the situation, as since revealed, was reported or commented upon in the American press; the people did not lack information. The involved background, the division within the German hierarchy, the restraint imposed by Britain on France, the reticence by Italy, the Soviet anxiety over Hitler, and the German fear of Russia—these were clearly discerned by the press. However, there was not even a hint that force should be used or that Hitler’s action had any meaning for the United States. (Mr. Hanson Baldwin in the New York Times came closest to suggesting the need for force in a survey which showed that France and her allies enjoyed a clear military advantage over Germany.) In general, the reaction was more of resignation than of alarm; such an act by Germany appeared to be expected. On the other hand, it is not difficult to infer a sensitivity on the part of the press, an unspoken readiness to support the government in case of intervention, and a sense of impending disaster.
Official opinion in the United States was marked by its absence. No public utterance by any responsible member of the administration has been found in the research made for this article. For the three weeks following the Rhineland move, The Congressional Record had not more than half a dozen references to the affair; Senator Borah, on March thirteenth, raised his voice to urge that the United States keep out of the quarrel, and Senator Pope, on March twentieth, inserted in the Record an article from the Washington Post in which negotiation was seen as a laudable avoidance of war. The Congress was virtually indifferent to the incident and devoted itself to such matters as raising tariffs, condemning Europe for defaulting its war debts, the Townsend Plan for old-age pensions, a medal for General Billy Mitchell, and St. Patrick’s Day tributes.
Scant concern was expresssed in the opinion-forming periodicals, public statements, contemporary histories, or subsequent writings of American officials. The full weight of isolationism had so dulled the national consciousness of America’s role in world affairs that the Rhineland breach was regarded as an annoyance rather than an augury.
Had the leaders of the United States in 1936 foreseen that within a half a dozen years their nation would be at war with Nazi Germany, perhaps they would have reacted differently to the Rhineland episode. The assertion is often made that great powers are guilty of encouraging aggression when they withdraw from international affairs. There is ample evidence that the United States shares such guilt, for as many Nazi leaders stated privately up until 1941 (and many others, after World War II), American neutrality conditioned Hitler’s entire outlook. Apart from the merits of the case, the neutrality of the United States in 1936 undoubtedly influenced the Rhineland affair to a considerable extent.
That France saw the potentialities in the United States’ position is indicated in the fact that Foreign Minister Flandin, on March eighth, asked the United States government to condemn unilateral repudiation of a treaty, and to give France moral support against Germany. M. Flandin cited Great Britain’s vacillation and urged the United States to show some interest. Secretary of State Cordell Hull’s reply to the American Embassy in Paris that “we do not feel that we could appropriately make any comment at this time” must have been a low blow to the French government. Perhaps some word of encouragement from across the Atlantic—even so vague an interest in Europe as President Roosevelt expressed in his “Quarantine Speech” eighteen months later—would have given France the spark to act. But the United States, not without good cause, had determined to regard Europe as detachedly as the geographic remoteness of North America would permit.
The United States government was not lacking authoritative warnings of Germany’s aims. As early as April, 1934, the State Department had the benefit of a penetrating analysis of Nazi aims and of the threat posed by Germany. Only one month before the Rhineland occupation, the United States Ambassador in Berlin, William E. Dodd, informed Secretary of State Hull in detail of Germany’s aggressive intentions and expressed the view that only “clearcut concessions to Germany” could relieve the tension in Europe. Shortly after March seventh, Ambassador Dodd, in reporting to the State Department, branded the United States’ aloofness from Europe as a boon to Hitler’s aggressiveness.
A student of international affairs could speculate with profit as to how the United States might have been able to exert her influence; e.g., by manipulating the Neutrality Act to the detriment of Germany, or by giving France and Great Britain moral support, or by withdrawing diplomatic recognition of Germany. Such retrospection has value only if it provides a lesson for future international relations, and it is to be hoped that all freedom-cherishing nations have taken to heart the march into the Rhineland. In any case, the United States had no legal obligation and was faced with no direct threat. Although American indifference may have been short-sighted, it was far more justifiable than the inertia of France and the equivocation of Great Britain. Seldom in modern times has an aggressive act been so susceptible to rapid counteraction.
France and Great Britain were somewhat captives of the fuzzy diplomacy of the times, whereas Germany used the diplomatic forms and restraints to her own advantage. Undoubtedly the Locarno Pact was ambiguous as to whether such an act as German military occupation of the Rhineland did constitute a “flagrant” breach that called for “immediate action,” and France’s faintheartedness could be said to find legalistic justification in the words of the Treaty. But as Hitler acted unilaterally in breaking the Locarno Pact, so France should have taken the necessary measures to call the Nazi bluff. If in France’s judgment the German move could be countered only by extra- diplomatic actions, then considerations of national survival should have controlled. The regard for diplomatic niceties and the superficialities of national honor which seem to have dominated France were secondary. Diplomacy did not fail France. A failure in diplomacy is the fault of the state that uses it, for diplomacy is flexible enough to serve the purpose to which it is put. Knowing the ineptitude of the League of Nations to enforce collective security, France had no practical alternative but to meet force with force. Had she done so, it is likely that most of her allies would have followed her head, for Europe was hungry for some show of courage in the face of a gathering storm. It is to the shame of democratic peoples that France failed to act with the courage needed for her survival; and no less reproachful is the timidity with which Great Britain restrained her ally at that critical time. However, France unquestionably should have made the first move and let the chips fall where they might.
Effectiveness of Hitler’s Technique
The Rhineland coup was made with a double-edged weapon: a show of force combined with “peace proposals.” The announced basis for the move had a certain legal plausibility; as a Franco-Russian alliance had fought Germany in the World War, was not France now displaying ill will toward Germany by a treaty with the Soviet Union? German propaganda had paved the way by stressing German displeasure over the Franco-Russian treaty while the March 2 interview tended to throw France off guard. The element of surprise was very effectively used; a weekend is always an awkward time to pose a crisis to a government. Germany undoubtedly enjoyed a considerable amount of sympathy throughout Europe over the terms of the Versailles Treaty. The prevalent international attention on the Italian venture in Ethiopia and the continued exploits of Japan in China provided diversions of a more openly shocking nature than the move into the Rhineland. By claiming the “provocation” by France, retaining the cloak of diplomacy, and moving boldly in a time of great international confusion, Hitler carried off a highly successful diplomatic bluff with the cost of only a formal rebuke by the League of Nations. The Rhineland affair was a Nazi test by which their internal position was solidified and their adversaries were divided. That the move was risky was confirmed by Hitler a few years later, “The most dangerous step was our march into the neutral zone ... I have always been willing to take risks . . . our enemies are puny worms. ...” And when the Chief of Staff, von Blomberg, issued orders for the move on March 2, 1936, a specific caution was included, to the effect that if any opposition was met, no counteraction would be taken without reference to higher authority. In other words, Germany knew there was a risk of war, and probably would have yielded to a firm challenge.
But the risk carried with it tremendous advantages, among which were:
1. Restoration of German pride and equality in the family of nations.
2. Silencing of German opposition to the Nazis and unifying of Germany behind Hitler.
3. Deterioration of mutual confidence among other European nations.
4. An improved military position from which to attack France and other European powers.
5. Increased security against intervention from the West in ventures to the east of Germany.
6. Belgian neutrality, which was declared in October, 1936.
7. Confidence on the part of Hitler that aggressive moves would be condoned.
The disadvantages were few: The French, Belgian, and British General staffs met and discussed eventualities; the Franco-Soviet Pact was made final in a matter of weeks; world opinion was disturbed but not enough to stop Hitler; and Germany failed to be given a free hand in Eastern Europe. But these drawbacks are negligible in the face of the gains.
It could be said that Hitler’s move into the Rhineland helped his adversaries by hastening their rearmament; but the subsequent fall of Austria, Czechoslovakia, Poland, France, and the other victims of Nazi Germany leads to the conclusion that they failed to re-arm in proportion to the signalled danger.
Other methods could have been used but the effects might not have been the same. Had Hitler resorted to negotiations, Germany might have found some relief from the “humiliation of Versailles,” but, as von Ribbentrop frankly pointed out during the London conferences, “After all the experiences of the past few years and after the way in which things have developed ... it was clear to the German Government that this method of negotiations never would have achieved practical results. ...” The only other practical recourse would have been to reoccupy the Rhineland surreptitiously and by infiltration; the fait accompli could have taken form gradually and without such shock effect had not Germany moved so flagrantly. However, France would have been just as disturbed no matter how the Rhineland was occupied. And, from Hitler’s stand point, only a bold and open action would provide simultaneously at-home and abroad the conclusive tests that he wished to conduct. The success of the results leaves little room for contemplating the worth of any other method. Thenceforth Hitler could, and did, move with confidence that the other powers lacked the will to resist him. That the Nazi appetite was so well whetted by the taste of the Rhineland success needs no belaboring; Hitler became encouraged beyond the point of reason. Seldom has so much been risked, and gained, by one integrated politico-military act. Clothed in the cloak of diplomacy, timed when the other side was off balance, moderated by keeping the troops on German soil, and heralded with not unconvincing righteousness, the Rhineland coup is a valuable lesson in power politics. Viewed as a technique in international relations, the Nazi demarche deserves to be called a thorough success.
The inferences to be drawn have been touched upon throughout this discourse, but the main ones bear repetition. These are simply that irresolution invites disaster, that bold threats must be met firmly, and that a nation must recognize and act against dangers to its survival before those dangers get out of control.
When a major state reaches the point where it will not take risks to preserve itself, there is little prospect that the state has the capacity to survive; indeed, the question arises as to its right to survive. In time of crisis it is usual that one nation more than its neighbors can and should take a firm stand; lacking assurance of assistance, she should trust that the others will rally, but she must be willing to go it alone if her vital interests are threatened. France was that one nation, and France failed. While history may well charge France with the largest share of blame for missing the chance to nip Nazi aggression in the bud in March, 1936, that is beside the point. The main useful idea derived from this action is that fire is easiest to put out before it becomes a conflagration. It may be desirable for the entire fire department to be on hand, but even a single firefighter is preferable to none.