The First Lesson of History
They say the first lesson of history is no one learns from the lessons of history. I was minded of this today while musing through a book in my collection. Now, my book collection is not a usual one. With my interest in history, I acquired an eye for books written about contemporary historical events. For example, a book written in 1915 about the First World War will have a unique perspective for the simple reason, as a participant, the author wears their emotions on their sleeve, while having no knowledge of what is to come. It is a raw and live ‘screenshot’ of history, without the evidential and comprehensive diligence a professional historian will employ when compiling their assessment of a past event. Also, a history of WW1 written in 1935, i.e. before the Second World War, will differ to one penned in 1960, after that traumatic encore. The narrative of history and contemporary climate feeds in to the author’s words to make the viewpoint one that represents their own time, not just the past. Therefore, to understand the motives and moods driving events, you are best reading the words written at the time, albeit with their prejudice, emotions or ignorance.
One book in my collection is called The Man Who Made the Peace by Stuart Hodgson, the story of Prime Minster Neville Chamberlain, and published in October 1938, in the celebratory wake of the signing of the Munich Agreement (30 Sept 1938). History affords us the luxury of criticising the appeasers, with our knowledge of Hitler’s personality and future actions, but the generation of Hodgson and Chamberlain lived through the horrors of one world war and believed the fight was around maintaining peace. In the book’s conclusion, Hodgson writes, “The people know their power now. The Politicians know that it is possible to mobilise opinion for peace as well as for war; and that he who does so effectively is assured of a triumph such as no military conqueror can win, be his victories never so great.” Those are powerful, sincere words and not without merit, reflecting the common view of the time, but read in the light of what was to come, they can also be termed misguided, foolish or naïve. Hitler had spelled out his objectives in Mein Kampf and already demonstrated his determination to achieve them through the annexation into the Reich of Austria and the Sudetenland. Perhaps Hodgson’s words are fair but his interpretation of Chamberlain’s actions as ‘effective’ are misguided.
The particular book instigating these musings is called Our Neighbours and it is a collection of interviews undertaken by the BBC in 1932 of individuals from countries ‘neighbouring’ the UK (Germany, France, Russia and the United States) and seeking their views on the nature of the world and the politics of the day. From Germany’s perspective, these are the last days of the Weimar Republic, with the Nazis dominant and about to secure absolute control in 1933. The chapter that caught my eye is called ‘Youth Without Hope’, a young man’s portrayal of Germany; an attempt to counter the misrepresentation of daily life in his country by the media. He is no national socialist but an articulate and passionate writer with a youthful optimism, even though his outlook for Germany’s democratic future is not positive (blaming the inability of the democratic parties to free themselves from the burden of the Versailles Treaty). However, there was one section which sent a chill down my spine: “Of course every movement which seeks to use emotionalism as a lever to action must have a favourite scapegoat. The National Socialists, or Nazis as they prefer to be called, make their scapegoat the Jews. It is the Jews who are said to be to blame, all day, every day, for all Germany’s troubles. Which is either a remarkable tribute to the Jewish race or an insult to the Germans, since the percentage of Jews to the total population is about 1 per cent! But this stuff talked by race fanatics should not be taken seriously.” It is a casual, almost flippant paragraph, astute in part but equally naïve and complacent: one we all might have written on a notion we assumed too ridiculous to get traction or a problem easier to ignore with the hope it goes away. A few years on, and after events such as Kristallnacht, I suspect the author appreciated how serious things were, while the words no doubt haunted him if he survived the war and learned of the horrors of the holocaust. History affords us the chance to see the dangers from the Nazis as early as 1932, an advantage over those too close in time to see, but have we learned the lessons?
A new century, a world apart, and yet scapegoats are still being sought. For emotionalism read popularism. The fanatics are active, vocal and in positions of power. We should take them and their threat very seriously! The lesson from the past century is too valuable not to learn from, but can we make an exception to the first rule of history?
Nathaniel M Wrey
Postscript: a few weeks after posting this blog, I stumbled upon a quote by the philosopher Bertrand Russell, written in 1940, commenting on the rise of fascism: “First they fascinated the fools. Then, they muzzle the intelligent.” What a transferrable sentiment to our own time. One thing that’s changed though is the internet, which allows any fool to find someone online to convince them they belong to the intelligent!
References:
1) The Man Who Made the Peace, Stuart Hodgson, Oct 1938
2) Our Neighbours: Today and Yesterday, Harrison Brown, E.L. Woodward, Arnold J Toynbee, S. K. Ratcliffe, 1933