A popular referendum in the Saar region in January 1935 gave Hitler the chance to erase the humiliation of July 1934. Under the Treaty of Versailles, the area had been placed under international administration for fifteen years, after which the populace was to decide whether it wanted to be part of Germany or France, or whether it wanted to remain under League of Nations control. Supporters and opponents of the “return home to the Reich” engaged in a bitter battle. Opponents, principally Social Democrats and Communists, campaigned under the slogan “Defeat Hitler in the Saar!” Meanwhile proponents also formed a unified block called the German Front, which consisted of the NSDAP and the remnants of the bourgeois parties.83 They based their campaign on the appeal of nationalism—as well as the fact that economic recovery in Germany was progressing noticeably while France was only just beginning to feel the effects of the Great Depression. A German Front victory was preordained, but the margin of that triumph was a surprise. On 13 January, 90.8 per cent of voters in the Saar region opted to be reunited with the German Reich, 8.8 per cent preferred to maintain the status quo and only 0.4 per cent wanted to join France. The numbers indicated that the vast majority of the left-wing camp had defected to the “Back Home to the Reich” cause—a huge disappointment for the Social Democratic leadership in exile.84 Klaus Mann, who had placed great faith in the referendum, found the results extremely sobering: “This is our worst political defeat since January 1933. It proves that the slogans of the Left have no appeal…For the foreseeable future, all hope is dead.”85
Nazi propaganda wasted no time in interpreting the election results as a personal triumph for the Führer. “90.5 per cent for Hitler—extremely moving,” noted Goebbels. “Telephoned the Führer. He’s beaming with joy…Gradually we’re escaping the dilemma. Our first major foreign-policy triumph.”86 To his cabinet Hitler gushed about the patriotism of the people in the Saar, declaring: “We cannot even begin to appreciate the foreign-policy significance of this event.”87 On 1 March, the day on which the Saar region was officially returned to the Reich, Hitler struck the pose of the liberator on the square in front of Saarbrücken city hall and celebrated an “act of compensatory justice” that would “finally” improve relations with France. “Because we want peace,” Hitler declared, “we must hope that the great neighbouring people are willing and prepared to look for peace with us. It must be possible for two great peoples to reach out to one another and jointly combat the miseries that threaten to swamp Europe.”88 The enthusiasm of Hitler’s audience seems to have been genuine, not staged. As Goebbels recorded: “The people on the square below reeled as if in a frenzy. The cries of ‘Heil’ sounded like a prayer. A province has been reconquered.”89
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By that point, Hitler was already plotting his next move. “Plans are churning within him,” Goebbels wrote on 22 January 1935 after a long conversation with the Führer. “He’s now completely occupied with foreign policy. And armaments. These are still the main problems. We have to become a power. Everything else will sort itself out.”90 Since being named chancellor, Hitler had accelerated the expansion of the army, navy and air force. It was his absolute priority, and after quitting the Geneva disarmament conference in the autumn of 1933, he had accelerated the process. By 1935, Germany’s illegal rearmament had reached a point where it could hardly be concealed. The question was how to announce it publicly and make it seem legitimate without completely alienating the Western powers.
In the London communiqué of 3 February, the governments of Britain and France condemned Germany’s unilateral arms build-up but also expressed their wish to resume negotiations over an arms treaty. Among other things, they suggested concluding a “Locarno for the east” and an international convention banning aerial warfare. The Reich government gave an evasive answer on 15 February. In lieu of negotiations with both countries, Germany proposed a bilateral exchange of opinion with the British government and invited Foreign Secretary John Simon and now Lord Privy Seal Anthony Eden to Berlin for talks on 7 March.91 On 4 March, three days before the scheduled meeting, the British government published a White Paper announcing a 50 per cent increase in funding for the Royal Air Force within five years as a reaction to Germany’s covert rearmament. The step outraged Berlin, and Hitler rescinded his invitation to the British politicians, although he did use the excuse of having lost his voice. Goebbels noted: “London has published a vile White Paper about German armaments as an excuse for a British arms build-up. As a result, the Führer went hoarse and cancelled the English visit.”92
On 10 March, Göring gave an interview to George Ward Price in which he admitted for the first time the existence of a German air force. “The main thrust of our activities,” he announced, “was not to create an offensive weapon capable of threatening other peoples but to set up a military aviation division strong enough to repel attacks on Germany at any time.” At the same time he boasted to a Royal Air Force attaché that Germany already had 1,500 warplanes: in reality, the Luftwaffe had slightly over 800 aircraft in the spring of 1935.93 A few days later, on 15 March, the French government presented parliament with a draft law to extend compulsory military service to two years. With that, Hitler had a welcome excuse to reintroduce compulsory military service in Germany, something he had decided upon on the Obersalzberg. He informed the ambassadors of France, Britain, Italy and Poland of this measure on the afternoon of 16 March. “His voice betrayed no signs of hoarseness,” recalled François-Poncet. “He was very sure of himself and collected, earnest, pervaded by the solemnity of the hour.”94
Initially, the government and the Reichswehr had no clear idea about the desirable future strength of the German armed forces. In a memorandum of 6 March 1935, Ludwig Beck, as head of the Army Office, had set the strength of Germany’s peacetime army at twenty-three divisions, which was to be increased to thirty-six divisions within three to four years. The chief of army command, Werner von Fritsch, on the other hand, pleaded for a quicker expansion of the army.95 On 13 March, Hitler summoned his Wehrmacht adjutant, Colonel Friedrich Hossbach, to Munich and confided in him that in the days to come he would “announce the reintroduction of compulsory military service and legally set the future parameters of the army.” In response to a question by Hitler, Hossbach specified thirty-six divisions as “the ideal final future organisation of the army as desired by the army command.” This meant that Germany would maintain a peacetime army of 550,000 men, five and a half times larger than the size of the Reichswehr as set out in the Treaty of Versailles. Hitler immediately adopted the figure without consulting either War Minister von Blomberg or Foreign Secretary von Neurath. Blomberg was horrified when he was informed of Hitler’s decision on 15 March. He was afraid that the western European powers would not accept a unilateral abrogation of military agreements in the Treaty of Versailles, and especially not such a gigantic increase in the size of the German forces. He expressed his concerns “frankly and passionately” at a conference of the most important ministers that evening.96
But Hitler would not be swayed. Through the night, he himself composed a proclamation entitled “To the German people!” that would be issued on Saturday, 16 March. It stated, contrary to fact, that Germany had faithfully fulfilled its disarmament responsibilities while the victorious powers had continued to stockpile arms and boycotted all attempts to negotiate an international arms-limitation treaty. Hitler wrote: “Under these circumstances, the German government sees itself compelled to take the measures necessary to end the unworthy and dangerous, defenceless state of a great people and Reich.” The Law for the Build-Up of the Wehrmacht announced both the reintroduction of compulsory military service and the expansion of the army to include thirty-six divisions.97
Blomberg, who had tried in vain that morning to get Hitler to abandon the idea of thirty-six divisions,98 had given up his opposition in the meantime. At the cabinet meeting in the early afternoon of 16 March, Hitler’s ministers were of one mind. “The Führer laid out the situation,�
�� Goebbels noted. “Extreme solemnity. Then he read out the proclamation together with the law. Everyone was profoundly moved. Blomberg stood up and thanked the Führer. For the first time, there was the salute of ‘Heil’ in this room. Versailles has been erased by a law. A historic hour…We are once again a major power.”99
Hitler’s weekend coup caused little worry among the German people. On the contrary, Germans were generally enthusiastic. “In Berlin, people fought over the special editions of the newspapers,” François-Poncet observed. “Groups formed. People cried ‘Bravo! Finally!’ The masses assembled in front of the Chancellery and showered Hitler with ovations!”100 In bourgeois nationalist circles, 16 March 1935 represented the day, as Luise Solmitz wrote in her diary, “that we have longed for since the disgrace of 1918.” She added: “We would never have experienced Versailles if such actions had always been taken, such answers always given.”101 Hitler gained in stature even among the working classes. “All of Munich was on its feet,” an observer for the Social Democratic leadership in exile reported. “You can force a people to sing, but you cannot force a people to sing with such enthusiasm…[Hitler has] picked up extraordinary ground among the people and is loved by many.”102 On 17 March, the traditional day for mourning the war dead, which had been renamed the “Heroes’ Memorial Day,” the regime celebrated its open violation of the Treaty of Versailles with an official act of state in Berlin’s main opera house. With the last living Wilhelmine field marshal, August von Mackensen, at his side, and the current military leadership in tow, Hitler marched down Unter den Linden boulevard to the royal residence, where he inspected a military parade.103
The big question was how the Western powers would respond to Hitler’s provocation. Detractors argued that if Hitler were not opposed energetically enough, he would think that “he could get away with anything and dictate the laws of Europe.” François-Poncet wrote that he had “already been appeased far too much.”104 But Hitler’s immediate circle felt that the risks were calculable. “A daring gambit,” Goebbels admitted but then added: “You have to create a fait accompli. The others won’t declare war. If they complain, we should stuff cotton in our ears.”105 By 18 March, Goebbels believed the critical time was over: “We’re all very happy. The Führer can be proud. The worst has been overcome.” William L. Shirer, the American foreign correspondent in Berlin, concurred that “Hitler had got away with it.”106 And in fact, Britain, France and Italy did nothing more than issue some half-hearted protests. The three nations met for a conference in the town of Stresa on Lake Maggiore from 11 to 14 April, at which they condemned the German Reich’s “unilateral abrogation of treaties” and guaranteed the European status quo. Mussolini issued a threat: “All bridges with Germany have been burned. If the country wants to work towards peace in Europe all the better. If not, we will smash it since we have now put ourselves completely on the side of the Western powers.”107 But these strong words notwithstanding, the “Stresa Front” showed cracks right from the start. The three countries did not agree on any concrete steps to be taken if Hitler continued to violate agreements, and they were far from willing to intervene militarily. Thus a relieved Goebbels wrote in his diary: “Communiqué Stresa. The same old song. Condemnation of German violation of treaties. That need not interest us as long as they do not attack. Anyway, keep on rearming.”108
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If truth be told, Britain had already abandoned the mutual defensive front. In a note of protest on 18 March, the British government had also asked, to astonishment in Berlin, whether Simon and Eden’s visit might not be rescheduled for a later date. The Nazi regime happily took the hint, and on 25 March, only nine days after Germany’s crass violation of the Treaty of Versailles, the two British politicians arrived in the German capital. Paul Schmidt served for the first time as an interpreter for Hitler, and his memoirs contain a highly revealing account of the course of the talks and the behaviour of the German chancellor.
Hitler received his visitors with ostentatious cordiality and was visibly at pains to create a relaxed atmosphere. Schmidt was astonished how different Hitler was in his role as a diplomatic negotiator from the image of the “raging demagogue” he presented at many of his public appearances. “He expressed himself clearly and articulately, seemed very confident of his arguments and was easy to understand and translate into English,” Schmidt wrote.
He seemed to know exactly what he wanted to say. He had an empty notepad on the desk in front of him during the entire negotiations, but he never used it. Nor did he have any notes with him. When he paused to search for the right way to phrase something, and I did not have to take notes, I had the chance to observe him closely. He had clear, blue eyes that he fixed penetratingly on whomever he was talking to…His face was lively when he began speaking of this or that important point. His nostrils quivered slightly with agitation when he described the danger Bolshevism represented for Europe. He underscored his words with sudden, energetic motion of his right hand. Occasionally, he clenched his hand in a fist…That morning and during the entire negotiations with the Englishmen, I found him to be a man who represented his standpoint skilfully, intelligently and in keeping with the etiquette I was accustomed to in political talks. It was as if he had done nothing other than conduct such negotiations for years.
The only aspect of Hitler’s behaviour that struck Schmidt as odd was the length at which he spoke. Hitler could not suppress his tendency to hold monologues, and the first morning session was taken up by him repeatedly invoking the supposed threat represented by Bolshevik Russia. When Eden asked about the basis of his fears, Hitler answered with the evasive remark that he had begun his political career “in the moment that the Bolsheviks had struck out for the first time against Germany.” In the afternoon, the talks were more substantive. The British diplomats suggested the creation of an “eastern treaty” that would include Poland, the Soviet Union, Czechoslovakia, Finland, Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania as well as Germany. The mention of Lithuania brought a change over Hitler. “Suddenly he seemed to become someone else,” Schmidt recalled.
In the time to come I often experienced him becoming unforeseeably emotional. His anger came with almost no warning. His voice got hoarse, and he started rolling his R’s and clenching his fists, while his eyes flashed thunderbolts. “Under no circumstances will we reach agreement with a state that tramples on the German minority in the Memel region,” he declared. Then as suddenly as this storm had arisen, it disappeared. From one second to the next, Hitler was once more the calm, polite negotiator he had been before the Lithuania intermezzo.
Schmidt’s account is impressive evidence of how skilfully Hitler employed his talent as an actor in diplomatic negotiations. He could slip from one role to the next as if pressing a button.
Hitler made it clear to his British visitors that he preferred bilateral treaties to any collective agreements. For this reason, he was reluctant to accept their suggestion of creating a “Danube pact” that would preclude incorporating Austria into the Reich. He did not rule out Germany returning to the League of Nations, but he insisted on the condition that Germany be given back all of its former colonies—a demand Simon and Eden could not accept. That evening, Foreign Secretary von Neurath, who had been a silent listener at the talks, hosted a dinner in the Reich president’s palace in honour of the British diplomats. In attendance were Hitler, all of his ministers, many of their deputies and other high-ranking Nazi Party figures.
The second day of talks focused on the question of armaments. In response to the British protests against Germany’s unilateral abrogation of the Treaty of Versailles, Hitler answered with a reference to the Battle of Waterloo in 1815. “When Blücher arrived to bring help,” Hitler asked, “did Wellington first contact the Foreign Ministry to check whether Prussian troop strengths were in accordance with the applicable treaties?” This was an extremely dubious historical analogy, but it seems to have left Simon and Eden speechless. When asked about the German air fo
rce, Hitler responded after a bit of hesitation: “We have already reached parity with Great Britain.” As Schmidt recalled, “I thought I could read dismayed surprise and scepticism about the accuracy of Hitler’s statements in the faces of the British diplomats.”
Towards the end of the talks, Hitler broached the idea of a German–British naval agreement, suggesting that he would be willing to limit German naval strength to 35 per cent of Britain’s. The British diplomats did not respond to this idea, but neither did they reject it. Their unchanging friendly and relaxed demeanour had Schmidt asking himself whether Hitler’s method of presenting his discussion partners with faits accomplis did not in fact get more done than the usual Foreign Ministry method of conducting negotiations. The British visit culminated with dinner in the Chancellery on the evening of 26 March. “Hitler occasionally seemed shy without being awkward,” Schmidt recalled. “Whereas he had appeared during the day for the negotiations in a brown uniform with a red swastika armband on his left sleeve, he now wore a tuxedo, an outfit that seemed to rebel against him.”109 Although the parvenu had grown noticeably more self-confident, he still seemed hesitant in polite society.
The visit yielded no concrete results, but Hitler was satisfied. “He’s in very good spirits,” noted Goebbels on 27 March. “The Englishmen’s visit has steeled his resolve even more.”110 Still, in the coming weeks, the Nazi leadership was not entirely convinced it was out of the danger zone. In early April, Goebbels found Hitler very earnest and pensive. “Foreign policy is torturing him,” the propaganda minister noted. On 5 April, after a long talk with Hitler on a stroll around the Chancellery garden, Goebbels wrote:
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