From 1940 through June 1941, Stalin confronted two contradictory bodies of intelligence. The first indicated a German invasion of Russia; the second suggested a German invasion of the British Isles. Stalin’s generals, and his competent intelligence officers, recognized that a German invasion of Russia was likely. They suggested to Stalin that they make all reasonable preparations. But Stalin refused to let them prepare. He insisted that this might provoke a war, believing that a split existed within the German leadership between those who favored war with Russia and those who wanted to conquer England. Stalin feared that by putting Russia on a war footing, the Germans could interpret this as justification for launching preemptive strikes, making war inevitable.
Stalin interpreted all incoming information about the German buildup through this filter. When in April 1941 he received a direct communication from Churchill warning him of the coming invasion, Stalin had to dismiss it as a British provocation. After reading the letter, Stalin smiled and declared that Churchill would benefit if they entered the war as soon as possible, but it would benefit them to remain on the sidelines.16 When the Soviet Ambassador to Germany, Vladimir Dekanozov, provided intelligence on Germany’s intensifying preparation for a Soviet invasion, Stalin remarked that Dekanozov was not clever enough to recognize that he was being fed disinformation. Even when Germany’s own ambassador to Moscow, Werner von der Schulenburg (who would later be hanged for his part in a plot to assassinate Hitler), informed Dekanozov that Hitler was preparing to invade, Stalin still could not accept the truth. No matter the source, be it a British ally, a Soviet colleague, or a German anti-Nazi ambassador, Stalin assumed a trap. He did so not simply because he trusted no one. It is obvious that Stalin was paranoid, but that is irrelevant in this case. His paranoia could just as easily have led him to conclude that Hitler was indeed planning to invade, despite Hitler’s repeated assurances to the contrary. Stalin’s distrustful nature cannot explain his interpretation of the evidence surrounding Barbarossa. Instead, the explanation must be found in Stalin’s particular reasoning process, namely his projected rationality.
As a consummate simulator, Stalin would have asked himself what he would do in Hitler’s place. Stalin’s own underlying driver, the force that ruled him above all others, was power—the desire to attain it and the fear of losing it. Had he been in Germany’s position, with Britain still undefeated and the Americans drawing closer to the British war effort via Lend-Lease, he never would have risked fighting a two-front war. Stalin was a realist not out of some philosophical conviction that pragmatism was the sine qua non of sensible statecraft. It was much simpler than that. Stalin was a realist because adventurism abroad could jeopardize his power. From Stalin’s perspective, the sensible move for Hitler in 1941 would have been to finish off Britain before turning on Russia.
The problem, of course, was that Hitler never thought this way. Hitler’s underlying driver was to accomplish his mission, the one he believed fate had enabled him to achieve. That mission was the destruction of Jewish Bolshevism and the conquest of Russian lands to provide living space for Germans. Conquering Britain was never part of his vision. Quite the opposite—Hitler consistently desired an alliance with Britain, and he wrote about this in Mein Kampf.
Stalin did try to understand Hitler’s main drivers by reading a translated edition of Mein Kampf. The Nazi leader was, if nothing else, unsubtle; Hitler stated plainly that the primary aim of German foreign policy had to be the acquisition of land and soil. National borders, he insisted, could always be changed. According to Hitler, a nation’s existence depended on sufficient living space, not merely for the production of food but also for military and political needs. As a nation grows, its need for land follows. From Hitler’s perspective, the acquisition of territory was inextricably bound to great power status: “Germany will either be a world power, or there will be no Germany. And for world power she needs that magnitude which will give her the position she needs in the present period and life to her citizens.”17
Regarding Russia, Hitler made his views equally plain. He wrote,
The Russian state was not formed by the Slavs, but by the German element within Russia. Today Russia is dominated by Jews. The giant empire in the east is ripe for collapse. And the end of Jewish rule in Russia will also be the end of Russia as a state. We have been chosen by fate as witnesses of a catastrophe which will be the mightiest confirmation of the soundness of the Volkisch theory.18
As for his opinion of Soviet leaders, Hitler characteristically pulled no punches:
Never forget that the rulers of present-day Russia are common, blood-stained criminals, that they are the scum of humanity, which, favored by circumstances, overran a great state in a tragic hour, slaughtered and wiped out thousands of her leading intelligentsia in wild blood lust. And now for almost ten years have been carrying on the most cruel and tyrannical regime of all time. Furthermore, do not forget that these rulers belong to a race which combines in a rare mixture of bestial cruelty and an inconceivable gift for lying, and which today more than ever is conscious of a mission to impose its bloody oppression on the whole world.19
For Hitler, Russia represented the perfect enemy. Ruled by Marxist Jews, it sought to impose its ideology upon whomever it could control. Germany, he believed, was its prime target: “Do not forget that the international Jew, who completely dominates Russia today, regards Germany not as an ally, but as a state destined to the same fate.”20 Germany, therefore, had a mission to save itself by simultaneously destroying Jewish Bolshevism and liberating the Russian soil for use by the German race.
Stalin read these declarations by Hitler and discussed Mein Kampf with his close colleague, Andrei Zhdanov, but the knowledge that Hitler dreamt of conquering Russia’s vast lands could not override Stalin’s simulation process.21 A realist simply would not invade Russia when a two-front war would ensue.
Stalin’s Foreign Minister and close colleague, Vyachaslav Molotov, also tried to read his way into Hitler’s mind. One source he engaged was Hermann Rauschning’s best-selling study, Hitler Speaks.22 Unfortunately for Molotov, the book was mostly fabrication. Rauschning claimed to have spoken with Hitler on 100 occasions. In fact, postwar scholarship determined that they had only met four times. Most historians today consider Rauschning’s book a largely illegitimate source.
To his credit, Stalin did employ multiple methods for getting into Hitler’s head. In addition to reading Hitler’s own words, he fell back on his favorite pastime: consuming histories and searching for lessons. He found one main principle and latched onto it. It was never wise for Germany to fight a two-front war, and the fear of this scenario haunted German generals and statesmen alike. Unfortunately for Stalin, he assumed that Hitler would be constrained by the weight of historical precedence. He projected a rational, realist worldview onto Hitler, imagining that the Führer would not violate this cardinal rule of German military strategy.23
Stalin saw clearly that Hitler wanted war. He expected a German attack at some future time and hoped to forestall it as long as possible. But by the close of 1940, Stalin still did not yet have a clear sense of Hitler’s more immediate plans or timeframe. Reading histories only offered general lessons. There were no guarantees that the Führer would obey them. Mein Kampf, for its part, revealed a racist worldview, the dogma of a fanatic, and, at points, the thinking of a realist. The underlying driver lay somewhere therein. Mein Kampf presented Stalin with the classic problem of a great mass of information. It seemed impossible to determine from its rambling tracts and turgid prose precisely what Hitler’s underlying motivations were. Looking back, it seems all too clear that acquisition of living space and extermination of Slavs and Jews were paramount. But at the time it could also have been read as the demagogic rants of a man bent on seizing power. Stalin needed a heuristic for determining whether racism or realism was Hitler’s prime driver.
Despite confidence in his own analysis of the enemy, Stalin still harbored some qualms abou
t Hitler’s intentions prior to Barbarossa. To uncover the riddle wrapped in a mystery, Stalin would enlist one other method. He would send his colleague, Foreign Minister Molotov, to meet with Hitler and attempt to glean his thoughts.
The time was right for another high-level meeting between Soviet and German officials. With Japan’s entry into the Axis on September 27, 1940, the Soviets could easily be encircled if the Germans and Japanese should jointly attack. For the time being, the Japanese had been deterred thanks to Marshall Zhukov’s skillful leadership during clashes with the Japanese army at Nomonhan in Mongolia. With their noses bloodied, the Japanese turned southward for expansion. As for the Germans, the Nazi–Soviet pact kept Stalin’s western front safe only as long as Hitler intended to honor it. Molotov therefore needed to gain some sense of Hitler’s intentions, or better still, a sense of the Chancellor’s key drivers.
Before we examine Molotov’s mission, we need to explore a similar attempt to read Hitler’s mind. Across the Atlantic a rather different type of world leader was about to attempt the same method of dispatching a personal envoy to probe Hitler’s plans. President Roosevelt possessed a firm grasp of Hitler’s basic character and the nature of the Nazi regime. Despite this understanding, FDR did not know Hitler’s intentions regarding the Soviet Union or the course of the war. By the early months of 1940, with Germany occupying part of Poland and at war with England and France, Roosevelt would not have been so naïve as to suspect that a peace initiative could succeed.24 Nonetheless, the President enlisted his most trusted foreign policy advisor, Sumner Welles, to hold talks with the highest-ranking German officials, including an audience with the Führer himself.
5
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A Rendezvous With Evil
How Roosevelt Read Hitler
STALIN’S EFFORTS TO UNDERSTAND and predict Hitler’s actions stood in contrast to President Roosevelt’s approach most notably in three distinct ways. First, Stalin tried to read his way into Hitler’s mind by studying Mein Kampf along with German military histories. He tended to dismiss or disparage the information sent to him by his Soviet representatives in Berlin. Roosevelt, conversely, placed stock in the information he received from American officials in Germany. He took pains to establish back-door channels through which information would flow directly to him from his chosen representatives. Second, whereas Stalin simulated what he would do in Hitler’s place, Roosevelt mentalized by asking what Hitler would do based on a theory of what made Hitler tick. Third, Stalin assumed that the behavior of past German leaders could serve as a useful guide to predicting the current German leader’s actions. FDR may not have used the pattern break heuristic precisely, but it is clear that his image of the Führer was shaped in part by the information he obtained during pattern-break moments. By examining the data that Roosevelt received, we can gain a glimpse into how the American President formed a picture of Hitler’s mind, and we can contrast that with Stalin’s approach.
Franklin Roosevelt came to office in 1933 facing an extraordinary economic crisis. The widespread unemployment, hunger, and privation across the nation made revolution seem like a genuine possibility. As a result, we would not expect foreign affairs to have been foremost in FDR’s thoughts during his first term. Nonetheless, Roosevelt took care to stay informed of German and European developments. Hitler’s more violent actions certainly caught the President’s attention.
Although Stalin praised Hitler’s first pattern break, the mass shootings of SA leaders in 1934, Franklin Roosevelt was less sanguine about the affair. It is unclear precisely what Roosevelt thought about the Night of the Long Knives, though he clearly found it disturbing. One day after the mass murders occurred, in a private correspondence to his personal secretaries who were traveling to Europe, FDR warned them not to go to Germany and to avoid riots and revolutions. “The U.S.A. needs you,” he added affectionately, “and so do I.”1 Nevertheless, he did not consider the killings sufficiently distressing to warrant remaining in Washington. That evening, FDR departed for a previously scheduled summer vacation, though he continued to request information on the unfolding events. In fact, he steadily sought out both official and back-door channels to gauge the nature of Hitler’s young regime.
At Secretary of State Cordell Hull’s request, the American Ambassador to Germany, William E. Dodd, telegrammed his analysis of the rapidly changing situation in Berlin. Given the confusion, fear, and propaganda surrounding the purge, it is understandable that the Ambassador could not report with full accuracy. He did, however, grasp that the SA was finished as a military organization. Lutze, who replaced Röhm as SA chief, was not appointed to the Cabinet as Röhm had been. Dodd correctly concluded that the Reichswehr’s power had been greatly enhanced as a result of what occurred on June 30.2
On July 12, the director of America’s National Recovery Administration, retired Army General Hugh S. Johnson, delivered bold, honest, and obviously inflammatory remarks on the purge. General Johnson’s role atop that organization made him a well-known public figure. He had been Time’s “Man of the Year” in 1933. Given his status, Johnson’s comments naturally garnered attention. In a public statement, General Johnson declared that the events of June 30 had made him physically ill: “The idea that adult, responsible men can be taken from their homes, stood up against a wall, backs to the rifles and shot to death is beyond expression.” Then Johnson remarked that he had witnessed such savagery in Mexico by semicivilized drunks, but he could not comprehend how such barbarity could happen in a supposedly civilized and cultured nation like Germany. Naturally, the German Charge d’Affaires visited Hull to make an official protest. Hull took the standard diplomatic line: General Johnson was speaking as an individual citizen and not in any official capacity as a representative of the U.S. government. It was to be regretted that his remarks were misconstrued as an official U.S. position.
The following day Hull cabled all of this information to FDR, who was traveling aboard the USS Houston. Hull stated that he hoped the President approved of his actions. Roosevelt replied simply, “Cordially approved.”3
Germany was not FDR’s primary concern in the summer of 1934. Recovering from the Depression and furthering the New Deal occupied more of his attention at that time. Yet the Röhm purge helped to form Roosevelt’s early impressions of Hitler and his regime. Hitler’s brutality was evident. Less obvious were the German Chancellor’s longer-term objectives in elevating the Reichswehr over the SA. Though the purge signaled a meaningful pattern break, it is doubtful that Roosevelt recognized this at the time. Nonetheless, in sharp contrast to Stalin, FDR could not identify himself with Hitler’s actions. When mentalizing about Hitler, it would be necessary for Roosevelt to construct a theory of how the Führer thought. FDR could not readily project himself into Hitler’s head, especially because the Nazi regime increasingly revealed itself to be bent on racist ends
FDR frequently circumvented the standard diplomatic chain of command by engaging in direct communications with key ambassadors, undoubtedly to the annoyance of Hull and other Foreign Service officials. On August 15, 1934, Ambassador Dodd wrote directly to the President, summarizing his impressions of the German situation. Dodd observed that displays of militarism were increasing across the country, despite Hitler’s protestations of peaceful intentions. He reported that in an audience with Hitler, the Chancellor had assured him that Germany would never go to war. The only way a war could be triggered, Hitler insisted, would be if violent SA men acted against his commands. Yet Dodd could not help noticing that Hitler’s assurances were frequently contradicted by his government’s actions. In particular, Dodd had sought to assure Jews in the United States that they were not threatened by the Nazi regime. Soon thereafter Dodd read a speech by Propaganda Minister Joseph Goebbels calling Jews “the syphilis of all European peoples.”
Even at this early point in Dodd’s time in Berlin, the Ambassador was recognizing Hitler’s deceitfulness. Dodd wrote the President: “I am sorry to have t
o say this of a man who proclaims himself the savior of his country and assumes on occasion the powers of President, the legislature, and the supreme court. But you know all this side of the matter: June 30 and July 25!”4 Dodd was referring to Hitler’s failed attempt to annex Austria on July 25, 1934. Obviously, Dodd understood that FDR grasped at least some of the significance of Hitler’s June 30 purge as well as the Führer’s aggressive intentions abroad. Ten days later, Roosevelt took the time to reply to Dodd’s letter. The President agreed that the “drift in Germany was definitely downward.” He expected something to break within the next six months to a year. FDR concurred with Dodd’s pessimism about Europe, but he stressed that he looked for any ray of hope, though he saw no signs of it at present.5
By September, the President was fully aware of the growing police state that Hitler had erected. At a press conference in Hyde Park, FDR commented on a report from Dodd that the many secret services—those obedient to Hitler, Goebbels, Goering, and the Reichswehr—were all following each other around. The President wryly remarked that in order to retain their power, someone would probably have to march on some border. At that point, the only way to know which border it would be was to toss a coin.6
In November, Dodd again summarized his impressions of rising German militarism in a cable to Assistant Secretary of State R. Walton Moore, which Moore forwarded to the President. Dodd observed that Hitler Youth and SA men were marching in every town he visited. In Bayreuth the Ambassador could not sleep because the marching and singing kept him awake all night.7 Dodd noted intense smokestack activity, suggesting that poison gas and weapons were being manufactured at full speed. A great many German men were being trained to fly, far more than would normally be needed. Dodd’s overall impression was that the German public was becoming exceedingly militarized: “The result of all this, if allowed to go through, will of course mean annexations and predominance of the whole of Europe.” Dodd qualified his conclusion by stressing that he was not predicting that this would definitely occur, only that the signs clearly pointed in that direction.8
A Sense of the Enemy Page 11
